Chapter 225

“Let’s not talk here. Upstairs,” she said.
Marcus hesitated for a moment. For someone with her abilities, what was there to hide?
But with his leg on his mind, he didn’t press the issue. He followed her up the stairs without another word.
Once they were alone, Marcus could barely contain himself. “Everything you said was right! Ever since I stopped carrying that sachet, I’ve felt like a different person!”
At first, he’d thought Anastasia was just messing with him. When she insisted he get rid of the sachet, he figured she was just trying to prove a point. He hadn’t taken it seriously.
But over the last couple of days, he’d noticed the change. The constant sleepiness and fatigue were gone. He actually felt awake for once-alert and full of energy, ready to take on anything.
If it weren’t for his immobile legs, he could almost believe he hadn’t been sick at all.
The transformation had crept up on him so gradually, he barely noticed-until his staff started commenting on how much better he looked. That finally snapped him out of his daze, and he’d called Anastasia without a second thought.
He had been wrong about her. She wasn’t just making things up. She was a miracle worker.
“Anastasia, you spotted the problem with that sachet right away. So, my leg
He gripped the arms of his wheelchair, staring up at Anastasia with desperate hope in his eyes.
Anastasia gave a faint, easy smile, her tone almost casual as she dropped a line that felt more like a dream than reality.
“It can be cured.”
The words were so light, Marcus thought he must have misheard.
“What-what did you say?”
“Say that again… please?”
Anastasia crossed her arms, chin tilted up with cool confidence. “I said I can cure it. Is that a problem?”
A choked sound escaped Marcus as his eyes went red. He looked like an overgrown puppy, so overwhelmed he nearly threw his arms around her.
Anastasia’s expression shifted instantly; she shoved him firmly back into the wheelchair and held him at bay. “Show some respect! Do I look like someone you can just hug?”
Her voice was a strange mix of annoyance and seriousness.
Marcus nodded furiously, sniffling. “I was wrong before, Anastasia. If you heal my leg, I’ll owe you my life-I’ll be your biggest fan, I swear!”
“Alright.” Anastasia agreed with a lightness that made it seem like the easiest thing in the world.
Watching Marcus-so hopeful, so pitiful-she felt a mischievous urge to dig up that screenshot of his nasty message, where he’d called her a fraud and threatened to post some stupid video if she was right. But she held back, deciding
it would be more satisfying to show him after she cured him.
Let’s see if the infamous Mr. Jackson of Riverton really keeps his word.
A sly, chilly smile played on Anastasia’s lips.
“Before we start your treatment, there’s something you need to know-your legs are paralyzed because you were poisoned. This isn’t some genetic disorder.”
-Poisoned?!
The revelation hit Marcus like a brick.
Someone had done this to him.
And to poison him so discreetly, it had to be someone close. Someone he trusted.
Marcus’s mind spun-he thought of the toxin in his legs, of the sachet from his fiancée, and a wave of bitterness, exhaustion, and anger crashed over him.
Then, suddenly, another memory surfaced a text from an unknown number, mentioning his legs had been poisoned.
Not only had he ignored it, he’d cursed the sender out and blocked the number.
Now he felt a flush of embarrassment. Glancing at Anastasia, he was suddenly grateful she was the one helping him. If he’d had to go crawling back to that other doctor, they’d have probably buried him alive.
Marcus looked at Anastasia with complete trust. “Anastasia, I’m counting on you.” Thɪs chapter is updated by