“I’m so sorry! My fault—should we head to the hospital?” Sophia asked, genuinely concerned.
Scott Livinus shot her a look, then turned and strode to the locker room without saying a word.
Two minutes later, he re-emerged. Liam, smirking, called over, “No need to worry, Dr. Smith. Mr. Livinus is fine—just a little bruised around the leg.”
“Really, Livinus, should I take you to the hospital so a doctor can take care of it?” Sophia offered again, taking responsibility.
Liam was snickering, and everyone else struggled to keep a straight face.
Livinus glanced at them with a piercing look that silenced everyone. Finally, he gritted his teeth and said, “You’re coming with me. Now.”
The car ride home was stiflingly tense. Sophia knew him well enough by now to sense his seething irritation, and she felt mortified for causing this whole situation. She was a trained doctor, a scholar of traditional medicine—yet here she was, consistently making ridiculous mistakes around him. Maybe their personalities were simply incompatible, she thought. Maybe she was better off keeping her distance.
“Not going to the hospital?” she asked hesitantly.
Livinus raised his injured leg slightly, leaning back in his seat with obvious displeasure. “You want the world to know about this?”
Sophia paused. As CEO of the Scott Group, He was fiercely private. Rumors about such a high-profile bachelor—especially one who had recently returned from overseas—were common. And with the recent scandal involving Olivia and Henry, paparazzi were constantly on the lookout for Scott’s family news. If he were to visit the hospital, there was no telling what story might emerge.
The media could turn a simple leg injury into a scandal, twisting it into something absurdly sensational—like speculating about impotence.
Sophia understood but tried to reason, “Still, nothing’s more important than your health, and, well… given the location of the injury… it might be better if a male doctor takes a look.”
Livinus, visibly unimpressed, leaned back, squinting at her. After a moment, he replied, “Sophia, you really are… something.”
“…I can’t even tell if that’s a compliment,” she murmured.
When they arrived home, Scott leaned heavily against the staircase railing, struggling to make his way up with one leg.
Sophia, feeling more and more guilty, offered, “Let me help you.”
“I don’t think you can handle it,” he replied icily.
She could only stand there, mildly stunned by his usual deadpan sarcasm. Classic Scott.
Once he reached his room, Sophia followed him inside for the first time. His bedroom had minimalist, moderned-inspired decor. It was simplistic yet luxurious—each item spoke of refinement, carefully L
As Livinus finally reclined on a chair, Sophia could see he was straining to mask the pain, though his silence made her respect him all the more for his endurance.
“Alright,” she offered, “I’ll whip up some ointment. It’s usually quick to relieve this kind of injury.”
He didn’t respond, barely glancing her way.
Sophia hurried to the back storage room, gathering a few herbs. The remedy she was concocting was derived from an ancient palace recipe she had adapted herself, known for its effectiveness on soft-tissue injuries. She hadn’t seen Livinus ’s actual injury, but from Liam’s description, she gathered it wasn’t severe, so it shouldn’t need too much treatment.
She worked quickly, preparing the herbs and creating a paste. But there was a hitch: she didn’t have adhesive plasters. Searching around, she found a generic patch, though she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as effective as the one she’d prepared. Still, she applied her mixture to the patch and pressed it together for reinforcement.
Livinus raised an eyebrow at her makeshift remedy, the faintest trace of a sneer on his face. “Are you sure that’ll work?”
Sophia’s voice deepened with conviction. “It was my mistake, and you’re free to question my athletic skills, but not my medical expertise. If this doesn’t work, then I’m not fit to be a doctor.”
Scott’s expression was unreadable. After a long pause, he narrowed his eyes and remarked, “Do you plan to stick around and watch me put it on?”
“…I’ll leave,” she muttered, and retreated.
Sophia’s patch was designed to be left on for an hour. When the time was up, she returned to his room.
“It’s ready to be removed,” she said, stepping back.
Five minutes later, Livinus’s door flew open. He stood there, his expression a storm of irritation. It was almost admirable how he could appear so composed while clearly on the verge of frustration. He was, by all accounts, a picture of quiet anger.
“Sophia,” he ground out, “where did you get this plaster?”
“The storage room… why?”
Scott took a deep breath, his face shadowed with barely contained fury. He tapped his fingers against the door frame, then bit out, “What on earth did you make this with? It’s practically cemented on. I feel like one of those bogus medical commercials.”
