Rise of the Worthless Son in law

12

Her eyes, with a hint of hope, filled her face. “What do you mean? The doctor said there’s no cure, Damon. What could possibly help now?”

Damon hesitated. He knew how far-fetched it sounded, but he couldn’t keep the idea to himself. “There’s a treatment… or rather, an experimental therapy. It’s not something most doctors would suggest because it’s still in its trial stages, but I’ve heard of cases where it worked.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What kind of treatment? And why wouldn’t the doctor mention it?”

“Because it’s not mainstream,” Damon admitted. “It is an experimental medicine. A mix of targeted immunotherapy and some… unconventional techniques. There’s a doctor I’ve heard about—Dr. Nathan Steele. He’s known for taking on cases like your dad’s. He doesn’t play by the usual rules, but he’s made miracles happen.”

Vivian’s heart raced at the prospect of a miracle. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” she demanded with frustration and hope as she stood to her feet.

“I… I… It just occurred to me now.”

Vivian’s mind raced at what Damon had just said. She paced around the room in anxiety. “Do you think he’ll take my dad’s case? Do you think he’ll help us?”

Damon ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. “Dr. Steele is a very busy man, Vivian. He’s practically impossible to book at this time of year. From what I’ve heard, his schedule is packed months in advance, especially now with all the cases he’s been working on. But...” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“But what?” Vivian pressed, her voice trembling with equal parts desperation and hope.

“But I know him well enough to try,” Damon replied, his tone soft but firm. “Years ago, when I was... in a different line of work, I crossed paths with Dr. Steele. I helped him out of a situation that could have ended his career. It wasn’t exactly under normal circumstances, but let’s just say he owes me one.”

Vivian stared at him, her eyes widening in surprise. “You’re saying you have a personal connection with this miracle-working doctor? And you think he’d listen to you?”

Damon nodded. “I’ll make sure he does. I don’t know if he’ll be able to take your dad’s case before the year ends, but I promise you this—I’ll do everything in my power to get him to take a look. If there’s even a chance he can help, I’ll make it happen.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Do you really think he can save him? After everything we’ve tried… is there even a chance?”

Damon stepped closer, his eyes locked onto hers. “Vivian, I wouldn’t suggest this if I didn’t believe it was possible. I know it feels like a long shot, but if anyone can pull off a miracle, it’s Steele.”

There was a hint of hope in Vivian’s eyes. She clutched her hands together in a shallow way. “Then let’s do it. Let’s try. Whatever it takes.”

Damon gave her a reassuring nod. “I’ll reach out to him tonight. But for now, you need to stay strong—for your dad. I’ll handle this.”

“Thank you, Damon. Let me go with you,” she said as she looked into Damon’s eyes.

“I don’t think that would help anything, Vivian. Leave it to me,” he said as he gave Vivian a reassuring and comforting look while standing up.

“I have to go now. Stay here with your dad; he will need you when he wakes up,” he uttered.

“Thank you.”

He barely waited for Vivian to appreciate him before storming out of the building. Before he headed for Nathan's office, he adjusted his outfit. The place was as unconventional as the man himself—part laboratory, part sanctuary, with an air of exclusivity that seemed to repel most visitors. Damon wasn’t most visitors.

As soon as Damon walked in, the receptionist barely glanced up before saying, “Dr. Steele isn’t taking appointments.”

“I don’t have an appointment,” Damon replied, his voice calm but firm. “Tell him Damon Bennett is here.”

The receptionist’s brow furrowed as he looked at Damon from head to toe, assessing him. “Dr. Steele’s schedule is—”

“I’m a friend,” Damon interrupted, leaning forward. “He knows me.”

The receptionist looked at Damon skeptically before she stood up and went into Nathan's room.

She knocked on the door before she strode inside Nathan's office. The door clicked shut behind the receptionist as she stepped into Dr. Nathan Steele’s office, a room filled with a mix of cutting-edge equipment and organized chaos.

Dr. Steele sat hunched over a stack of papers, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. Without looking up, he muttered, “I told you, no interruptions today. I’m not seeing anyone.”

The receptionist hesitated before speaking. “It’s… Damon Bennett. He says you know him, sir.”

Nathan froze as soon as he heard the name, the pen he was using to write stilled mid-air. Slowly, he set it down and removed his glasses. His gaze shifted to the door as he leaned back in his chair with an unreadable expression.

“Damon Bennett,” he repeated with an amazed smirk on his face. “I never thought I’d hear that name again. Send him in.”

The receptionist bowed slightly before walking out.

Moments later, Damon walked through the door with measured confidence. The years had done little to dull the tension between the two men, though Damon wore a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As soon as Nathan sighted Damon, he stood up stiffly as they sized each other up.

“Well, Damon, I never thought I would see you again.”

“Neither did I,” Damon admitted as he stepped into the office.

Steele crossed his arms. “I assume you didn’t come here for pleasantries. What do you want?”

“I need your help,” Damon said simply. “There’s someone who needs your expertise—a man with late-stage cancer. His daughter, Vivian, is desperate. You’re his last chance.”

Steele snorted. “Desperation. That’s usually when people remember my name.” He walked to a desk cluttered with papers and experimental vials and folded his arms.

“They aren’t ordinary people, Nathan. They are the Whitmores. Klaus Whitmore is in his last stage of cancer. The doctors have no cure for him.”

Nathan chuckled. “The Whitmores? Look, Damon! I know they are powerful people in society, but I need you to understand that I am booked, and I am a very busy man. I have operated on three VIP patients today, and I still have two more later before the day runs out. One of which is the President of Italy. I am so choked up, Damon.”

Damon nodded, his expression unflinching. “I know, Nathan. I know you’re busy. But this isn’t just about power or connections. It’s about saving a man’s life and giving his daughter a chance to hold on to the only family she has left. You’re the only one who can do this.”

Nathan leaned back against his desk, his eyes narrowing. “And why should I care? Don’t get me wrong, Damon. I appreciate your knack for dramatics, but the world’s full of desperate families. What makes this case special? Why should I drop everything for the Whitmores?”

Damon took a step closer, his voice lowering. “Because you owe me, Nathan. You remember Madrid? The scandal with that research trial that could’ve ended your career? Who buried that story? Who made sure you kept your license?”

Nathan’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. “I didn’t ask for your help back then.”

“No,” Damon countered, “but you took it. And you’ve had a successful career ever since. I never called in that favor, Nathan. Until now.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the air crackling with unspoken history. Finally, Nathan sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re really putting me in a corner here, Damon.”

Damon crossed his arms, his voice steady but firm. “It’s not about corners. It’s about doing what you do best—making miracles happen. Klaus Whitmore doesn’t have time, Nathan. He needs you, and so does his daughter.”

Nathan let out a sharp exhale, pacing the room. After a moment, he stopped and turned to Damon. “Fine. I’ll look at his case. But I’m not making any promises. If there’s nothing I can do—”

“You’ll do something,” Damon interrupted. “You always do. That’s why I came to you.”

Nathan shook his head with a wry smile. “You’re as infuriating as ever, Damon. Alright, have Vivian send me her father’s medical records. I’ll review them tonight. But don’t expect miracles overnight.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Damon replied, extending a hand.

Nathan hesitated before shaking it. “