The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Ian held his breath as he stared at the barricaded restroom door, cold sweat drenching his back.

At this moment, Justin's eyes were full of tears, his gaze unfocused and his consciousness slipping away.

If no one was here to protect him during his withdrawal, he would be nothing more than a sacrificial lamb, waiting to be slaughtered.

Ian's eyes turned bloodshot. He clenched his teeth, grabbed a mop, and stepped toward the door. "Who is it?!"

"Ian, it's me—Arnold." A deep, steady voice came from the other side.

"Dr. Larson!"

The mop clattered to the ground. Ian's tears spilled over uncontrollably.

"Don't panic. I'm alone." Arnold paused before continuing, his voice low and urgent. "Justin is having a withdrawal episode, isn't he? Let me in."

hastily and scrambled to

frame inside and swiftly relocked

please... Please save Mr. Salvador! No one else

breath and walked

wrists with his own tie and stuffed another tie into his mouth to prevent

before him, his pale lips trembling, tears welling in his

eyes pleaded as his body convulsed uncontrollably. He could not stop trembling, nor could he

die." Arnold immediately pulled a black cloth pouch from his coat. Unfolding it, he revealed a set of acupuncture needles and several

needle and pierced it into Justin's temple, his voice firm

friend-you are also my patient. If I can't cure you, then that is my failure as a doctor. If anything happens to you,

they have a close relationship, isn't this going too far?! If something happened to Arnold, what would become of Asher? And if something happened to

Arnold had already inserted needles into various acupoints along Justin's

subsided. Although he was still unconscious and his face remained deathly pale, he looked

long has he been like this?" Arnold asked as