Chapter 463

Alexander Hamilton's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel as it landed on Gregory Wilson.

Gregory met his gaze with a faint, knowing smirk.

The air between them turned glacial.

Evelyn Carter felt a cold sweat prickle down her spine.

"Dr. Wilson," Lydia Laurent tilted her head, "isn't anesthesia only for surgeries?"

"It's just a metaphor."

"Oh, I see."

Gregory adjusted his glasses. "Mr. Hamilton, shall we begin the examination?"

Alexander scoffed and slumped onto the couch, his long legs dangling awkwardly over the edge.

"Go ahead, Doctor. Call me when you need the anesthesia."

"Very well."

Gregory took a seat opposite him with practiced ease.

"Evelyn..." Lydia tugged lightly at Evelyn's sleeve.

Taking a steadying breath, Evelyn knelt beside the couch. "Where exactly does it hurt?"

"My stomach," Alexander replied without opening his eyes.

"Can you pinpoint the location? Left or right side?"

His eyes snapped open, burning with intensity. "The entire thing hurts."

Evelyn rolled up her sleeves. "Loosen your tie and take off your jacket."

Lydia twisted her fingers anxiously. "Is Alexander seriously ill?"

"I need to perform a physical exam to diagnose the issue."

With one hand, Alexander undid his vest buttons, revealing a crisp white shirt beneath.

"Should I unbutton the shirt too?"

"No. Just lie flat."

"I can't."

"...Fine. Stay like this, then."

Her fingertips pressed lightly against his abdomen. "Does this hurt?"

"Yes."

She moved to another spot. "Here?"

"Painful."

The heat of his skin seeped through the fabric, scorching her fingertips.

Gregory spoke up suddenly. "Any findings?"

"Elevated body temperature, but the cause is unclear." Evelyn withdrew her hand. "The pain is too widespread to localize."

Alexander sneered. "And this is expert-level diagnosis?"

"You claim every spot hurts—how am I supposed to determine anything?"

"It all hurts!"

Evelyn grabbed a tissue to wipe her hands. "If your liver and stomach are both in agony, I suggest calling an ambulance."

"Are you sure it's not your skills that are rusty? Too much time in OB-GYN, forgotten how to do a basic exam?"

Evelyn yanked her sleeves higher. "Fine. Let's try again."

Alexander closed his eyes, the picture of resignation.

"Here?"

"Pain."

"Here?"

"Easy! That hurts!"

Evelyn nodded. "Fallopian tube and uterine region. Possible ovarian cyst rupture or uterine prolapse."

"..."

"Should I book you a gynecology consult?"

Alexander's face darkened. "Is this how you treat patients?"

"Uncooperative patients make diagnosis difficult."

He gritted his teeth. "Fine. I'll cooperate."

"Lie flat. Legs up."

With visible reluctance, he adjusted his position.

"Focus this time. Tell me where it hurts most."

"...Hurry up."

Gregory stood. "Need assistance?"

"Not necessary," Alexander bit out.

Evelyn shook her head. "He’s got enough energy to argue. He’ll live."

Gregory sat back down.

Evelyn resumed the exam. "Here?"

Alexander sucked in a sharp breath. "Very painful."

"Certain?"

"Press elsewhere for comparison."

"..."

"How else will I know which spot hurts more?"

"Fine."

She increased the pressure.

Alexander paled. "Trying to kill me?"

"So it’s excruciating?"

"Yes."

Evelyn stood. "Gastritis flare-up. Lydia, what did he eat today?"

Lydia shook her head. "He only drank at the business dinner. Didn’t touch his food."

Alexander massaged his temples. "There was an emergency in Europe. I handled it and came straight back."

Evelyn frowned. "So you’ve gone two days and a night without eating—just alcohol?"