The Ultimate Dominance

Chapter 5

Margaret’s jaw tightened. “Impossible,” she breathed.

Dr. Selwyn’s face went pale. “That… that’s… how could you…?”

Cain’s voice was calm, almost casual. “Observation. Understanding. Knowing where to look."

He continued. "The hands are obviously slummed, the neck is swollen and the eyes are reddish showing a failed filtration system!"

Anger flashed through the doctor's eyes. And Aria lets out a sigh of relief. She wasn't wrong about the young man.

Margaret’s hands shook slightly. “This isn’t real… he… he could be guessing…”

"He definitely guessed the answer, there's no other way in this life that he could have gotten it right"

Cain didn’t answer. He simply handed the photograph back. Every eye in the room followed him, tension crackling like electricity.

Margaret drew close to Cain, the vines on her neck firmly popped.

"Tell me right this instant, where did you get the answers from!"

"That wasn't part of the test!" Cain responded, shaking her off easily and calmly.

Dr. Selwyn regained his instantly composure and glared.

"So what if you passed the test?"

Dr. Selwyn leaned forward, dark eyes sharp. “Even if you guessed right, it’s irrelevant. This is not the patient in question. You cannot treat the elderly based on an image!”

Aria Hart, her expression calm but eyes intense, cut through the tension. “He passed the test. Let him proceed. No arguments

Margaret’s hand shot out. “No! I will not allow—”

Aria’s gaze, cold and unwavering, silenced her instantly. "As I said earlier, no argument.

What do you think the outside world would see us as if we can't even keep our word?" Margaret was quickly sent choking in her words and her eyes filled with disdain while the crowd murdered still not convinced.

Cain nodded once, expression unreadable. He moved toward Ezekiel Hart’s side, silver needles already in his hands.

Every step was deliberate, measured. Servants and advisors exchanged anxious glances. Dr. Selwyn muttered under his breath, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, convinced the man would fail spectacularly.

Cain placed each of the needles into Mr. Hart's pressure points, each step harder than the next, he was sweating but nothing was happening, the old man remained almost lifeless on the bed.

“You’ll see,” Margaret hissed, stepping closer, “this will end badly. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Cain crouched near Ezekiel, methodically preparing the treatment. Every motion was precise, deliberate, almost hypnotic in its calm efficiency. Aria watched silently, intrigue sparking in her dark eyes. Liora, leaning against the wall, folded her arms, expression unreadable but clearly attentive.

For a few tense moments, nothing happened. The room held its collective breath. Then it came.

Ezekiel coughed. A small, wet sound. Then another. His face contorted violently. Blood poured from his mouth, dark and fast. He gasped, eyes widening in terror. His skin turned pale gray, then mottled black and purple.

The patriarch collapsed, lifeless. Silence fell like a hammer.

Margaret screamed, rushing forward. “You—You killed him! Cain! You cursed my father!” Her hands gripped Cain’s neck, shaking him with fury. “You’ll pay for this!”

Dr. Selwyn froze for a moment, then let out a quiet, contemptuous snicker, as if the chaos before him were some darkly amusing lesson.

Aria’s eyes were wide, shock flashing across her composed face. She took a cautious step forward, unable to hide the disbelief in her voice. “Impossible…” she whispered.

The room erupted in chaos—servants screaming, advisors stammering, Margaret still clutching Cain’s collar, Dr. Selwyn smirking like a professor observing a failed experiment, and Aria standing frozen, trying to reconcile what she had just witnessed.

"You killed my father." She yelled once again, this time a strand of tear escaping from her eyes.