The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly on Eastridge, turning the modest kitchen into a sweltering inferno. Marco Giordano stood over the stove, sweat trickling down his temples as he stirred the simmering tomato sauce. His worn apron, stained from years of cooking for a family that barely acknowledged his existence, clung to his lean frame.The kitchen door burst open with a violence that made the pots rattle."There you are, you pathetic leech!" Rosa Lombardi's shrill voice cut through the air like a knife. She marched toward Marco, her expensive heels clicking against the tile floor, a manila envelope clutched in her manicured fingers. "Stop pretending to be useful and look at me when I'm talking to you!"Marco didn't flinch. He'd learned long ago that reaction only fueled her fire. He turned down the heat and faced his mother-in-law, his expression carefully neutral."Sign these." Rosa thrust the envelope at his chest, forcing him to catch it. "Divorce papers. It's time you crawle

The procedure room Jessica provided was state-of-the-art—gleaming equipment, sterile surfaces, and monitoring systems that belonged in a top-tier surgical center. Signora Francesca had been carefully transferred to the adjustable medical bed in the center, her frail body dwarfed by the machinery surrounding her.Marco stood at a steel table, arranging a velvet case he'd retrieved from his jacket. Inside lay nine needles, each one different from the last—varying lengths, subtle curves in their design, tips that caught the light in peculiar ways. They looked ancient, the metal darkened with age but perfectly preserved.Jessica watched from behind the observation glass, her hands pressed against the surface. Her head of security, a mountain of a man named Derek, stood beside her. Through the intercom, her voice crackled: "Dr. Giordano, the specialists are demanding to observe. They say it's their professional obligation—""Let them watch," Marco said without looking up. "But they stay be

The Messina estate's main foyer had transformed into an impromptu receiving area. Word of Signora Francesca's recovery had spread through the mansion like wildfire, and people kept arriving—family members, business associates, even staff members who'd served the matriarch for decades—all wanting to see the miracle for themselves.Marco stood near the exit, ready to leave, but Dr. Chen blocked his path once again."Master Giordano, please reconsider." The elderly specialist's persistence bordered on desperation. "I'm not asking to learn the Nine Tiger Claw Needles—I know such techniques cannot be taught casually. But surely there are other aspects of your practice I could study? Basic principles? Diagnostic methods?""Dr. Chen—""I'll pay you. Name any price. I'll work for free—clean your clinic, organize your files, anything." Dr. Chen's voice cracked. "I've dedicated my entire life to traditional medicine, and in one afternoon, you've shown me how little I actually know. Please, don'

Chapter 7: A New BeginningThe morning was quiet.The smoky light of the city shimmered on the window panes in the winter sun.The silence in Marco Giordano's small apartment was as if the world had forgotten that anyone lived here.An old table, a few medical books spread out on it, and a small tree in the corner—its leaves trembling slightly in the sun—this was his empire.Marco sat at that table,his eyes fixed on an old notebook,where patient case notes had once been written.The pages had turned yellow,but every word was pulling him back to his past—a time when he was just a doctor,neither anyone's son-in-law, nor the target of anyone's insults.It seemed to him that the events of three days ago were stories from another life.The Messina family palace, pulling Jessica's grandmother from the brink of death,all seemed as unreal as a dream. What was real to him now was this small room, this solitude, and a new, silent desire—to find himself again. Just then there was a knock on th