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Taming The Sinner: The Doctor's Cold Game

Chapter 5 No.5

Word Count: 475    |    Released on: 13/01/2026

se. He dabbed sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, glancing

e today..." he began

er. "She's insane." "Look at her." "Is tha

bumping into his best man. He let out a loud, exa

nd. He pulled a silver flask from his jack

, turned a shade of purple that looked dangerou

iquid dribble down his chin. He wiped i

t Helena. "My beautiful bride! She looks like she just murd

oom's side of the aisle-his fra

l. Her father, Mr. Lawrence

of alcohol was overpowering. "You disgust me," he sl

he really looked at him

rfectly to the light. He wasn't swaying when he wasn't ta

She grabbed the lapels of his tuxedo j

surprised by

whispered into his ear. "You have no

ightly, looking hi

ur. That's apple juice

f a second, the drunken haze vanished,

ck. He stumbled again, overacting the pa

tood up. "Enough! Proce

, straightening his ja

hrough the ceremony

d. "As long as she doesn'

lau

u, Hel

lectern. She pulled it off the stand. T

her, wary. "Wha

d. She looked at the hund

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Taming The Sinner: The Doctor’s Cold Game
Taming The Sinner: The Doctor's Cold Game
“I stood before the double doors of the master suite, my hand hovering inches from the polished brass. As a surgeon, I was trained to steady my heart before a cut, but the silence in the Alexander estate felt like the heavy, oppressive pause that always preceded a scream. I pushed the mahogany door open to find my fiancé, Authur, tangled in Egyptian cotton sheets with a woman named Jasmine. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and a floral perfume that wasn't mine-a brutal reality check just twenty-four hours before the merger meant to save my family from total ruin. Authur didn't look guilty; he looked amused, coldly telling me to close the door because I was letting in a draft. When his parents unexpectedly arrived, I was forced to hide his mistress and pretend our "intensity" had ruined the room, donning his discarded shirt to look disheveled just to protect the Lawrence family stock price. The humiliation only deepened on our wedding morning when Authur issued a sadistic ultimatum over the phone. "Wear your scrubs to the altar-the ones covered in blood-or I'll watch your father's company go belly up by lunch." He wanted to turn our wedding at St. Patrick's Cathedral into a public execution of my dignity. I walked down the aisle in shapeless navy cotton and crimson stains, enduring the horrified gasps of the elite who labeled me an "insane gold digger." Authur stood at the altar, reeking of whiskey and malice, certain he had finally broken me and turned my professional oath into a circus act. But as the priest began the vows, I looked at the man who thought he owned me and realized I wasn't his victim-I was his surgeon. I had the footage of his debauchery ready to play for the world, and as we shared a punishing, hateful kiss for the cameras, I knew the real war had only just begun.”