Chapter 3: The Old Man Who Collapsed

Words : 1935 Updated : Sep 25th, 2025

Inside a luxury Maserati. Fabian Farrell soaked in the speed and plush silence of the car, his mood buoyant. Every so often he stuck his head out the window, and each time Bella Doyle yanked him back in. He kept staring, wide-eyed, at everything. "Hey, your car's nice and all, but it's too cramped. Not half as roomy as the tractor back home." Bella opened her mouth, swallowed the retort rising to her tongue, and shut it again. This was the man who had saved her life. She could not lose her temper. She would not. Dexter watched their back-and-forth, heat surging in his chest. He even forgot that Fabian had pulled him out of trouble earlier. He seized the opening and sneered. "Ha! You're such a hick." "You're really comparing that hunk of junk of yours to this ride that cost a couple hundred grand?" "Only you would say something like that." Fabian ignored Dexter's tone and latched onto the only part that mattered. A couple hundred grand? "What? This little car set you back several hundred thousand dollars?" "How many tractors could you buy with that?" His brows knit tight as he did the math. Bella's lips curved despite herself. She had seen too many preening rich boys in the city. Fabian's plainspoken honesty was a breath of fresh air. Silently, she made up her mind. He had saved her. She would look after him. Fabian, of course, had no clue what ran through her head. As the car slipped through Haltoria's streets, he gawked at the skyscrapers spearing the sky, the rivers of traffic, the people in every kind of dress, like a small-town kid seeing Times Square for the first time. Seeing his wonder, Bella could not help herself. "Fabian, don't worry. I'll take care of you. I won't let anyone push you around." He turned, met that radiant face, and felt something stir. This girl was something. Stunning, and kind on top of it. "I'm a man," he said solemnly. "I don't need a woman to look after me. But you're a decent person, and you're easy on the eyes. So if you ever run into trouble, I'll be there." Color rose across Bella's cheeks. She had heard her share of sugary lines. This sort of guileless promise went straight to the heart. Dexter, meanwhile, ground his teeth, his hands clenched on the steering wheel until it creaked. He seethed with envy, but he did not dare explode. Who was Bella? The heiress of one of the three great families of Haltoria. In this city, she was treated like a princess. And here she was, born with a silver spoon and raised behind castle walls, being this warm to a rough-around-the-edges country boy? Had he saved the entire galaxy in a past life? What really ate at Dexter was that Fabian did not even seem grateful. He just sat there, full of hot air, putting on a big act. Dexter's handsome mouth twitched; he rolled his eyes. "From today on, we're friends," Bella said earnestly to Fabian, catching Dexter by surprise. "You'd better keep your word." Screech! The sudden squeal of brakes set Bella lurching toward the seatback ahead. Fabian threw an arm in front of her to stop her, his eyes snapped to the road ahead. Bella pressed a hand to her chest and let out a breath. She stared out the window, shaken. "Not sure what happened up there," Dexter muttered, sheepish. "Traffic just jammed up. I zoned out and missed it. My bad." "You're spacing out while driving? What are you, a plant sent by those killers?" Bella breathed hard, face a shade pale. "Let's get out and take a look," Fabian said, curiosity already tugging him toward the door. "Okay." Bella nodded. All three unbuckled, pushed the doors open, and stepped into the jammed-up street. "Somebody, help!" "Please, our old gentleman just fainted. Is anyone here a doctor?" "Call 911, quick!" They had barely hit the asphalt when a middle-aged man's desperate shouts reached them. Beside a black Mercedes lay an old man, pushing sixty, sprawled on the pavement. His lips were tinged blue; a purplish cast shadowed his eyes. He did not move. A lanky driver in his forties cradled the old man's head and called out in panic. "Hugo Ferguson?" "What happened to Hugo?" Bella froze when she saw who it was. She had not expected the one on the ground to be her grandfather's old friend, the patriarch of the Ferguson Group. She dropped into a crouch at Hugo's side, her voice tight with worry. The middle-aged driver looked up, recognized Bella, and spoke in a rush. "Mr. Ferguson was on his way to visit an old friend. But he collapsed before we got there." "At this time of day, we're still a long way from Haltoria Hospital. With this traffic, if I try to push through, I'm afraid Mr. Ferguson won't make it. So I pulled over right here." "I've already told someone to call 911." "I just pray there's a doctor who can stabilize him for the moment." "That looks like the Ferguson family's old master. Their influence is enormous. If something happens to him, it'll shake the whole city." "Too bad. Judging by his color, Hugo might not make it." The crowd swelled. Whispers rippled as more people recognized the fallen elder. "I'm a doctor!" The murmurs had barely begun when a middle-aged voice rose from the onlookers. A man in his fifties stepped out, a neat goatee on his chin. Urgency flickered in his eyes, but steadiness outweighed it, the calm of someone who had everything in hand. There was a gravitas to him that settled nerves at a glance. Several assistants trailed behind him, lending him a commanding air. "Isn't that Doctor Stephen?" "It's him, I saw him on TV." "He's one of the top doctors in Haltoria. A real Miracle Doctor." "With him here, the old gentleman should be fine." At his appearance, the crowd erupted in excited chatter. Stephen frowned and dropped to one knee at the old man's side. He pressed two fingers to the pulse, then lifted an eyelid. "Quick. Bring my silver needles," he snapped to an assistant. The assistant flipped open a case and handed over several fine needles. Stephen took them and pierced in swift succession at the crown, the chest over the heart, and the wrists. After a few deft pricks, color began to creep back into the old man's face. The lanky driver let out a long breath. "No wonder Dr. Stephen's the best of the best. Just a few needles and the old man's lips have color again." "That's a Miracle Doctor, all right!" The onlookers buzzed, thrilled by the visible improvement. Fabian, however, stood aside with a slight frown. "This old man's about to die," he said, voice cool. "What?" Bella turned to him. "Isn't Hugo getting better? Look, the color's back." She saw he was not joking and furrowed her brow. Stephen's mouth tightened. He shot Fabian an unhappy glance. One of Stephen's assistants gave Fabian a once-over and snorted. "Who the hell are you to question Dr. Stephen?"

Chapter 3: The Old Man Who Collapsed

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