The morning sun barely cut through the atmosphere of the Grefo estate when Jannah finished tying her boots. It was the weekend, a brief window of survival where the scheduled two-hour daily healing session wasn’t required, giving her the perfect opportunity to escape the luxurious cage of the estate and return to the familiar dirt of 3rd Street in the slums.

Downstairs in the formal dining room, the air was thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and high-district delicacies. Jannah sat at the long table, forcing herself to swallow her breakfast across from Mr. Guron Grefo. The older Alpha was carefully scanning a digital datapad, his eyes evaluating the estate’s morning metrics.

Gathering her composure, Jannah set her porcelain teacup down with a soft click. "Mr. Guron, since it is the weekend and there are no scheduled procedures today, I will be visiting my home in the lower sector to check on my grandfather’s old herbal records."

Guron looked up from his screen, his expression neutral as he gave a slight, authoritative nod. "No problem, Jannah. A brief return to handle your affairs is perfectly acceptable, provided you return before tomorrow’s dusk."

Before Jannah could even breathe a sigh of relief, heavy, commanding footsteps echoed down the grand marble staircase. Dorrent strode into the dining hall, his broad-shouldered frame dressed in a tailored casual shirt that did nothing to hide the lethal muscle beneath. He didn’t even look at the breakfast spread as his eyes locked directly onto Jannah’s pale face, a dangerous, hidden amusement flashing in their depths.

"I’m heading out toward the lower border anyway, Father," Dorrent cut into the conversation, his deep voice instantly shattering the morning peace. "I’d like to give her a direct ride there myself."

Jannah’s heart violently skipped a beat, the terrifying memory of the micro-camera button and his bruising grip on her waist from the night before flashing through her mind. "I am perfectly okay, Alpha Grefo," she said quickly, her voice tight as she tried to maintain a professional distance. "I can easily secure a public transport line or a commercial vehicle at the district gates. There is absolutely no need to trouble your schedule."

Guron, however, waved his hand dismissively, completely overriding her objection. "Nonsense, Jannah. It is an excellent idea for you to be taken by Dorrent. It saves you the unnecessary credits of hoarding a cab, and it ensures you arrive safely in the ghetto. Dorrent, see to it that she arrives safely."

Jannah clenched her fingers into tight fists beneath the tablecloth, forcing her jaw to remain shut. She argued no more. She knew that any further resistance, any sudden panic over a simple car ride, would immediately cause a highly calculating man like Guron to suspect her behavior and dig into the dark friction between his son and the physician.

Guron set his datapad down on the polished wood, a sudden, satisfied smile breaking across his stern, high-born features as he looked directly at Jannah. "Speaking of your duties, Jannah... I read through your daily neurological report this morning before breakfast. I must say, I thoroughly like what I’ve seen in these metrics."

Jannah’s throat went entirely dry. The fraudulent daily report she had been forced to forge to hide their violent confrontation detailed that Dorrent’s dead biological frequency was finally showing signs of life—stating that the S-tier Alpha was now capable of achieving a solid erection for a brief period before his manhood slumped back into a dormant state after a while.

"The structural nerve pathways are slowly adapting to the localized stimulation," Jannah forced out, her voice a flawless, fabricated lie as she played the role of the dedicated healer.

"You deserve immense credit," Guron complimented her, his golden eyes shining with a predatory satisfaction. "A fifty percent increase in baseline neural retention is more than the high-district medical boards achieved in half a decade. You are proving to be worth every single credit of your contract."

Dorrent slowly pulled out his chair, sitting down next to Jannah so closely that his cold, winter-frost pheromones completely engulfed her senses, a silent, mocking reminder of the sheer power he held over her freedom. He looked across the table at Jannah, his lips curling into a sharp, venomous smirk that made her blood run to solid ice.

"It is all entirely thanks to Jannah being such a brilliant, exceptionally dedicated herbalist, Father," Dorrent murmured, his voice dripping with a terrifying, double meaning that only Jannah could fully decode. "She knows exactly how to handle my anatomy, and she works tirelessly through the day to ensure my system responds. With her unique, aggressive methods... I am highly confident I might fully recover much sooner than we anticipated."

Guron let out a loud, rare chuckle of pure corporate triumph, leaning back in his chair. "That is exceptional news, Dorrent. And it couldn’t come at a better time. Joanne is still patiently waiting for the exact day your system is restored so you can finally step forward and officially ask for her hand in marriage to finally give me grandchildren. Your father Guron expects nothing less than a grand union."

The exact millisecond the name ’Joanne’ left the older man’s mouth, Dorrent’s entire frame went completely, aggressively silent.

The dangerous, mocking amusement vanished from his features, his silver eyes darkening into a freezing, storm-like void as his jaw clenched with such immense pressure that a sharp muscle twitched against his cheek. The reminder of his legal, high-born corporate obligation—and the fact that his body was completely dead to her touch while it fiercely thrived only on the pale slum rat sitting beside him—visibly struck a raw, agonizing nerve deep within his S-tier pride.

The tension in the dining hall became so suffocating that the estate servants stopped moving, terrified of triggering the Alpha’s wrath. But within a fraction of a second, Dorrent forced his corporate mask back into place, dismissing the dark rage with a smooth, completely deceptive smile that didn’t reach his freezing eyes.

"Of course, Father," Dorrent replied loosely, his voice a flat, calculated monotone as he adjusted his cuffs. "I am looking forward to that day as well. Joanne will make a highly suitable wife for the Grefo lineage."

They ate the remainder of the meal in an absolute, crushing silence, the only sound being the ticking of the clock against the wall. Jannah could feel the raw, volatile waves of irritation rolling off Dorrent’s body, knowing that the mention of his legal fiancé had only made the beast beside her far more dangerous.

Suddenly, Dorrent pushed his plate away and stood up to his imposing height, his shadow eclipsing Jannah’s tiny form as he looked down at her with a look of pure, unyielding dominance.

"Grab your things, little physician," Dorrent commanded, his voice dropping into a vibration that echoed like a threat against her ears. "It’s time to visit the slums."