The doctor continued, “Right, Dr. Jean isn’t on our hospital staff, but she’s a genius. We refer every unsolvable case to her. She’s done surgeries with success rates under 5%—never lost a patient. She’s a legend in medicine, our hero.”

The doctor was clearly a huge fan of Shermaine, his face flushing with excitement as he talked.

Hearing how talented this Dr. Jean was, Jameson didn’t immediately link her to Shermaine. “That’s perfect. Can you contact her to perform my surgery?”

“Her fee is 300 thousand dollars.” Shermaine discounted fees for those in need, but the reduced rates were known only to patients and their families.

“I can cover that,” Jameson said.

Though he didn’t have 300 thousand dollars, he could sell more shares. Plus, he’d given Jason 4.5 million dollars recently. He could demand it back.

At the thought of Jason, he was desperate to do a paternity test to confirm if the boy was his son.

The doctor said, “I’ll put in a hospital request, but I can’t promise she’ll accept.”

“Fair enough.”

That night, Jameson took his prescribed meds and checked out. Instead of going home, he booked a hotel room.

He needed to find out who sent the document and if someone was plotting to split him and Natalie. He had to verify the truth before confronting her.

His critical health issues had to be Natalie’s doing. After all, he rarely cheated, and the drug must have killed his attraction to other women.

‘What a ruthless woman, using narcotics against me,’ he thought.

Jameson spent the whole night unable to go home, haunted by his critical health diagnosis. He’d only live three years without surgery. Sleeplessness gripped him.

Meanwhile, Shermaine, the very Dr. Jean he was counting on, slept soundly. After breakfast with Joshua, she headed to the airport.

Joshua saw her off, helped check her luggage, and was playfully waved away.

“Be careful there,” he said.

“Got it,” Shermaine replied softly.

“Call me every day.”

“Mm.”

Joshua kissed her forehead before leaving.

The professor, already at the airport, waved to Shermaine as they approached security.

After clearing it, they reached the boarding area, only to run into Roy.

Roy wore a white hoodie, baggy track pants, and JK–style sneakers, a casual look. His trendy long pink hair stood out.

His features were boyishly handsome–more striking than the average “pretty boy”–with deep–set eyes and naturally pink lips, giving him the classic manipulative heartthrob look.

“Milady, you’re going to Ustrana, too?” he asked.

“Yes,” Shermaine replied.

Roy beamed. “Which part?”

“I’m going to Loang.”

“Same.” Roy grinned eagerly and asked, “So, what are you going to do there?”

“I’m attending a math conference.” Shermaine introduced the professor beside her. “This is Professor Brown from Basterel University’s math department.”

Dustin Brown, vice president of the Wallington Mathematical Society, renowned figure in Wallington’s academic circle, having made significant contributions.

Roy courteously greeted Dustin, a heavyweight in the math community. Dustin was typically tight–lipped, but Roy had a talent for winning over elders, at least when he wasn’t misjudging them.

Despite being a math novice, Roy managed to chat animatedly with Dustin, even managing to upgrade their business–class tickets during the conversation.

It was worth noting that Roy’s esports team was competing in the same district as Shermaine’s group, and their hotels were just a street apart.

After a dozen–hour flight, they landed in Loang. The hotel they’d booked, one of Ustrana’s premier stays, provided a private car service.

Knowing the hotel car was already waiting outside, Shermaine led Dustin toward the exit.

“Milady, how about we ride together? I just canceled my hotel room and booked yours. Want to grab dinner tonight?” Roy said.

Shermaine first asked Dustin if he had evening plans. When he said no, she turned to Roy. “Where do you want to eat?”

“You know Ustrana better. You pick.”

“Got it.”

As they reached the airport exit, a stretch limousine stood out like a sore thumb.

Even Roy, a trust–fund kid, couldn’t help double–taking. There was probably only one such car in all of Ustrana.

Shermaine frowned at the sight.

The door swung open, and Roy caught a glimpse of shapely legs in stilettos.

‘Damn. The passenger’s a woman,’ he thought.

Molly stepped out.

Her shapely legs and hourglass figure wrapped in a black bodycon dress were straight out of a supermodel shoot. Her sizzling outfit drew everyone’s attention.

She rocked a sleek pixie cut yet still oozed sex appeal. There was a bossy edge to her–like a billionaire female CEO straight out of a movie.

But it was her grayish eyes that gave away her mixed heritage.

Molly held a slim lady’s cigarette, a butterfly tattoo peeking out above her ankle.

The second she climbed out of the car, she stalked straight toward Shermaine and, without a word, threw a punch.

Roy had never seen a woman in a skin–tight dress and 3–inch heels fight with such effortless swagger.

‘Why the hell is she attacking Milady on sight?’ he wondered.

Shermaine raised an eyebrow. After a few blocked blows, she stepped back, snatched a hair tie, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. "Molly, long time no see. Got an itch you need to scratch?”

Molly smirked, flicking her cigarette to the ground. “You know in Ustrana, only you have the guts to mouth off to me. Call it restlessness."

Shermaine pinned her wrist and pressed an arm to her neck. When Molly went limp, she released her, only for Molly to grab her waist like a hoodlum, eyeing her chest in disbelief. “Wait, your boobs are bigger than mine now? After a year?”

No matter how she measured up to Shermaine, she always came in second, except for her boobs, which she’d always bragged were bigger.

Shermaine gave an exasperated sigh.