"You're going to pick up the medicine?"
Josh repeated Laura's words, looking at her as she pulled out her phone while they were filming. Was Chase still relying on medication? It had been a while since he'd last seen him take anything. If that was the case, there should be plenty of it left—couldn't she pick it up later?
But Laura, unaware of Josh's thoughts, simply nodded.
"Yeah, it's about time to restock. If it's not a hassle, would you mind giving me a ride? My car has a flat tire."
She smiled apologetically. It wasn't a big deal—giving her a ride was the least he could do. But the problem was Chase. Josh could already picture him jumping to conclusions, getting jealous over the idea of him and Laura going somewhere alone.
Advertisement
Privacy Settings
Still, Josh kept his usual smile.
"How about I just go by myself instead?"
"Huh? You'd do that?"
Laura looked surprised. Josh nodded.
"I just need to pick up the medicine, right? I can handle that alone."
He also wanted to ask about adjusting Chase's dosage. He still wasn't entirely sure he trusted Dr. Steward, but for now, there wasn't much else he could do.
Laura, oblivious to his deeper thoughts, sighed and said with a hint of exasperation,
"If you do that, I'd really appreciate it…"
Josh frowned slightly, noticing the tension in her voice.
"Is this about Mr. Miller?"
Was it a scheduling issue? He took a guess, but Laura shook her head, letting out a tired sigh.
"It's a lawsuit."
Josh narrowed his eyes as she continued.
"You remember the last problem we had with Mr. Miller, right?"
Josh had to sort through his memory. There had been plenty of issues, after all. Fortunately, Laura answered before he had to ask.
"The incident where he bit another actor's tongue."
Ah. That.
"The surgery went well, but it took months for the guy to recover. In the meantime, he's been demanding further treatment or compensation. And now, he's threatening to sue us if we don't comply."
Laura rubbed her temples, clearly frustrated.
"So I reached out to Nathaniel Miller, but he said he's too busy to deal with a trial. He hung up on me."
Josh exhaled sharply. He already had a bad feeling about where this was going.
Laura sighed. "I called Grayson Miller next."
Josh knew what was coming. He leaned back, waiting.
"The lawyer refused to take the case. Said it was annoying and just told me to pay the guy off."
Figures.
"I couldn't believe it. But when I asked for the amount they were demanding, I realized it'd cost more in legal fees to keep fighting. Even so, they're acting way too nonchalant about this… And the production company was involved too, so it's a mess."
Laura sighed again. She was usually a pro at handling problems, but sometimes, reality hit too hard. Shaking her head, she muttered,
"I can't imagine what life must be like for people that rich."
Josh replied casually, "Don't worry. They have no idea what our lives are like either."
Laura blinked, then let out a short laugh. "Yeah, you're right."
Josh smirked. He watched her as the weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. After a moment, she straightened up and said,
"Then I'll leave it to you, Josh. I'll give Dr. Steward a call."
"Got it."
After a brief farewell, Josh checked the time. Seth was scheduled to be on set later in the afternoon, which meant he had time to make the trip in between.
He needed to ask about the medication.
Chase shouldn't stop taking it completely, but maybe they could lower the dosage. Given what had happened with the overdose before, it was something worth discussing.
Josh mentally went over his schedule, thinking about how to bring it up with Dr. Steward.
✤✤✤✤✤✤
s soon as the break started, Chase immediately looked around for someone. Laura, noticing his search, approached him and checked his condition before asking curiously,
"Do you need anything?"
Chase's gaze shifted to her, his furrowed brow giving her a bad feeling. Laura tensed, bracing herself.
"No, nothing."
Thankfully, Chase dismissed her concern with a toss of his words and turned his head away. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Laura quickly added,
"You're almost out of medicine, right? If you're feeling any discomfort, let me know. Josh is picking it up today."
At that, Chase's head snapped back toward her, his stare sharp and unreadable. Laura hesitated at his intense reaction.
"Why Joshua?"
She blinked at his tone. "…? Oh, well, I was supposed to go, but my car has a flat tire. I asked him for a ride, and he offered to go alone."
She hadn't needed to explain all that. The realization came too late—she'd already said more than necessary. Fortunately, Chase's expression softened slightly after hearing her explanation.
"What about the new prescription? Any issues? Should I request the same one?"
His response was frustratingly short.
"Do whatever you want."
"Oh… okay."
Laura hesitated, caught off guard by his indifference. Normally, during a 30-minute break, Chase would check his makeup and outfits for the next scene. But today, with more time to spare, he seemed lost in thought.
He sat down in a chair, pulled out a cigarette, and placed it between his lips. The slow drag of smoke was mesmerizing, making Laura's heart momentarily stop. No matter how many sharp words she endured from him, moments like these made her forget everything and simply stare.
Chase exhaled a long stream of smoke. His pale cheeks were almost devoid of color, and his gaze, fixed on something distant, looked so empty—like he could vanish at any moment.
Laura had always wondered why Chase Miller's eyes seemed so hollow. He had everything—wealth, fame, good looks. So why did he always look so lost?
As always, there was no answer. Just as she was about to give up thinking about it, Chase spoke.
"Call the security team leader. I need to talk to him."
"Got it."
Laura quickly turned to make the call. Just then, she noticed Naomi walking toward them. As the line connected, Laura hurriedly passed on the message.
"Chase, can I have a cigarette?"
Naomi asked, stopping beside him. Without a word, Chase pulled out a sleek metal case from inside his suit jacket and handed it to her.
"Thanks. What's wrong?"
Naomi flashed a brief smile, took a cigarette, placed it between her lips, and returned the case.
"What are you worrying about?"
Chase lifted his head at her words, frowning slightly. Naomi smiled knowingly.
"You look like something's on your mind."
"None of your business."
"I'd love to ignore it, but if you're not in good condition, it affects me too. So, I guess I should be relieved if it's nothing serious."
Chase remained silent. Naomi, watching him, took a slow drag before pressing again.
"Is this about what I said last time? About sleeping with someone while having a partner?"
Chase's head snapped up. His expression betrayed him—he was caught off guard. But instead of denying it, he simply stared at her, his pale face giving nothing away.
Naomi felt a slight shiver under his piercing gaze but masked it by casually biting down on her cigarette.
"It wasn't a hard guess, was it?"
She smirked as if enjoying the moment. Chase, however, turned his head away without a word. Naomi watched him, her expression turning more serious as she exhaled smoke.
"Is she a married woman?"
Chase's grip on his cigarette tightened.
"Shut up."
"It looks like it."
"…"
Chase took a slow, tense drag of his cigarette before exhaling sharply.
"They have a child, but they're not married… maybe."
The last word was added with uncertainty. Naomi watched as he ran a nervous hand through his hair, a strange feeling stirring inside her.
Even though they were brothers, Grayson and Chase were so different. Unlike Grayson, who always wore an easygoing smile—whether real or not—Chase at least seemed human.
Grayson's smiles, in contrast, always felt rehearsed.
Naomi took another drag of her cigarette, frowning slightly. From her angle, she could see Chase's head clearly. It wasn't often she had to look up at a man over six feet tall. His thick, slightly tousled hair looked oddly… cute.
Oh, I must be losing it.
Shaking off the thought, Naomi suddenly blurted out,
"You should propose to her."
Chase's head snapped up. Naomi shrugged, trying to act casual.
"So, what happened? You know, is she actually married or not?"
She blinked innocently as if she weren't prying. Her mind was already spinning, processing the situation. Then, with a sly smile, she added,
"If she really loves you, she'll get a divorce. Right now, she's probably stuck between choices. But if you propose, it'll make it easier for her to decide. You get what I'm saying?"
Chase said nothing. He simply stared ahead, cigarette smoldering between his fingers, lost in thought. Naomi smirked, watching his reaction with interest.
Just then, a group of bodyguards approached. Laura was with them.
"Mr. Miller, is something wrong?"
Mark's voice cut through the moment. Chase glanced up. Unfortunately, it was time to go.
Naomi took that as her cue to leave, pretending not to care. But as she glanced back, she saw Chase talking to Mark with a serious expression.
Curiosity burned inside her.
Who was this married woman that could make Chase Miller act like this?
✤✤✤✤✤✤
"What?"
Mark blinked in surprise. He had no idea why Chase had called him over just to ask something like this. But Chase wasn't backing down.
"Is it true that Joshua has a child?"
There was no mistaking his serious tone. Mark hesitated before nodding. Instantly, the color drained from Chase's face. He raised a shaking hand and took a deep drag from his cigarette. Smoke curled from his lips as he exhaled shakily.
Then, after a moment, he spoke again.
"…So, is he married?"
He tried to steady his voice, but the slight tremble gave him away. Mark, sensing his unease, answered carefully.
"Uh, no. As far as I know, he only has a child. The mother left them a few years ago, I think…"
Silence.
"Mr. Miller?"
Mark cautiously called his name, but Chase simply lifted a hand, cigarette still between his lips.
Left alone, he wordlessly flicked his half-smoked cigarette away and reached for another one. He pulled one out, but his hand—unsteady—fumbled, and the cigarette slipped to the ground.
The metallic snap of his cigarette case echoed in the air as another fell onto the dirt.
A few steps away, Laura's secretary noticed and quickly moved to clean up. Chase, however, remained still, watching in silence.
Proposal.
Naomi's voice replayed in his head, laced with the same teasing, knowing tone. It clung to his thoughts like a siren's call.
✤✤✤✤✤✤
The drive from the set to the hospital was eerily quiet.
Josh gripped the wheel tighter, his mood souring as memories of a recent attack on the road flooded back.
His thoughts soon drifted to Chase. He had wanted to talk to him, to hear the story firsthand, but there had been no time with filming taking priority.
Advertisement
Privacy Settings
Instead, he had to rely on what Laura had told him—there was no major issue, so Chase could continue with the same medication. So far, the new prescription didn't seem to have any side effects, though it was still too soon to say for sure.
Josh knew Chase hadn't been taking his medicine consistently lately. But oddly enough, his condition seemed to have stabilized.
Still… something didn't sit right.
And then, there was the doctor.
Josh had never trusted Steward completely. The way the man had smiled—that strange, unsettling expression—made his gut twist.
There's definitely something off about him.
But the police investigation had been thorough. Their conclusion? Steward was innocent.
That left Josh with nothing to act on. No reason to keep pushing.
"Damn it."
He cursed under his breath and pressed harder on the accelerator.
Even though the case was officially closed, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine.
With his frustration mounting, he sped toward the hospital.
✤✤✤✤✤✤
"Come on, you were Chase's bodyguard? What's your name?"
Like last time, Steward sat alone in his office, where there was no access to the web. His friendly voice and demeanor made him seem like a kind doctor, no matter how Josh looked at him. But Josh remained on guard as he replied.
"Bailey. I'm here to pick up Mr. Miller's medication."
Instead of giving his first name, he only offered his last. Then, without waiting for a response, he got straight to the point.
"There's no issue with the new medication. I'd like you to prescribe the same one again."
"Oh? Is it working that well?"
Steward asked casually as he got to his feet.
"Then, let's head to the consultation room. I handle prescriptions there."
Josh glanced around. It was odd—there wasn't even a basic writing instrument on the desk. Moving between buildings for something as simple as a prescription seemed inefficient.
Frowning slightly, he followed Steward through the large courtyard. Without hesitation, Steward cut through the garden and entered another building—the same one where Josh had once been offered those suspicious chocolates.
"Hello."
The receptionist greeted them with a polished smile. Josh immediately noticed she was different from the last one. In fact, none of the previous employees were around.
He considered asking about them but ultimately decided against it. Digging into things like that never sat right with him, and he already had a bad feeling about the answer.
"Mr. Steward, you have an appointment in 30 minutes."
The receptionist informed him as he headed toward his office. Steward glanced back and replied with a smile.
"Can I go in now?"
"Yes, sir."
The receptionist offered another polite smile, this time at Josh. He returned a brief nod before following Steward inside.
Josh hadn't realized it before, since Isaac had accompanied him last time, but now, walking through the halls behind Steward, he felt a strange sense of tension and unease.
The corridor was eerily plain. No windows, no artwork—just blank walls stretching endlessly. The only sound was their footsteps echoing through the silence.
If someone had claustrophobia, they'd have a full-blown panic attack here.
Steward kept walking. Josh had no idea how far they had gone, but the deeper they went, the dustier everything became.
Just staying here might give someone a mental illness.
Then, finally, Steward stopped. When he opened the door, bright sunlight flooded the room.
Josh exhaled, feeling the tension in his chest loosen just slightly.
Steward stepped inside first, drawing the curtains open fully before turning back.
"Would you like some tea or a snack?"
"No, thanks."
He didn't want to eat a single thing in this place.
At his firm refusal, Steward tilted his head, chuckling lightly.
"Such a shame. I like having something to snack on while I work."
Josh didn't respond. His mind was too preoccupied with figuring out how to handle this man—someone whose expressions and motives were unreadable.
Ignoring Josh's silence, Steward moved behind his desk and opened a book. Without glancing at any previous records, he picked up a pen and began writing the prescription.
Josh, feeling uneasy, finally spoke up.
"Shouldn't you check the patient's records first?"
Steward glanced up, then tapped his temple with his index finger, smiling.
"It's all stored up here."
Josh clenched his jaw but said nothing more. Instead, he just watched as Steward continued writing.
After a moment, Steward spoke again.
"Why don't you take a seat? This will take a little while. As you know, Mr. Miller is on quite a few medications."
Josh hesitated before taking the opportunity to ask,
"Is there any way to reduce them?"
Without pausing, Steward answered in a flat tone.
"If he stops taking his medication, he won't be able to handle it. He's too sensitive—it could trigger seizures."
Josh waited a beat before replying.
"He hasn't taken his medication in the past few days… and he's doing fine."
For the first time, Steward's pen stopped. The smile vanished from his face. Slowly, he lifted his head, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
"Mr. Miller… hasn't been taking his medication?"
"That's right."
Josh nodded, keeping his expression neutral.
"He's skipped his sleeping pills and missed doses a few times. But there haven't been any seizures. No serious side effects either."
Steward blinked.
"…Oh."
It was just a single syllable, barely more than a sigh.
Josh pressed on.
"So, wouldn't it make sense to start lowering the dose?"
"Hmm…"
Steward looked thoughtful, his expression unreadable. Josh watched him closely, still wary of the man but also acknowledging his professional expertise.
Finally, Steward seemed to reach a decision.
"Here's what we'll do," he said. "I'll continue prescribing the medication as usual, but don't adjust the dosage on your own. Have him take it as directed. In the meantime, schedule an appointment as soon as possible. Once he comes in for a proper examination, I'll determine if we can lower his dose safely. Abrupt withdrawal can cause serious side effects."
Josh considered the response carefully before nodding.
"Alright… that sounds fair. Thank you."
It wasn't a bad conclusion, anyway. When Josh absentmindedly thanked him, Steward tilted his head with an ambiguous expression. Josh quickly realized his thanks had been unnecessary—but he didn't bother correcting himself. Instead, he acted as if nothing had happened.
Steward, however, gave him a peculiar smile.
"But how did you find out? Chase has been filtering his pills."
"Just by chance," Josh replied smoothly. "Over time, I noticed some of the pills piling up."
At Josh's quick thinking, Steward narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Sleeping pills?"
"Yeah."
The more you say, the easier it is to slip up. Keeping his response short, Josh clamped his mouth shut.
For a moment, Steward simply watched him. Josh, unfazed, met his gaze in silence. A cool tension filled the air.
He knew better than to break first. The one who cracked under pressure always lost. And it wasn't going to be him.
After a long pause, Steward suddenly shrugged, as if he'd lost interest. Then, just like that, he turned his attention back to the prescription.
"Well, if he's doing better, that's a good thing. Even a dominant alpha could face serious side effects from taking so many medications."
Josh felt a strange unease at those words. he heard that Steward was worried about Chase. As he turned his gaze silently, he added insignificantly.
"I was wondering if he should stop getting the injections now. He has too many medicines to eat, but he can also take pheromone by injection. I can't help it because he can't have sex, but if he only rely on injections, his arm will rot someday. If you cut his arm, I can't help it. Wouldn't he be in trouble?"
"…Yeah?
It seemed like he had heard something weird, and Josh inadvertently asked. Steward continued to write down the prescription, and he said:
"Well, it's not that I don't understand, but he's in his own delusion with something that doesn't exist, and that's why he's so self-educational. That's really bad."
At first he didn't realize know what that meant. It was a few seconds later that Josh figured out what it meant.
"What is that? No way, then…"
It was when Josh, who stuttered in embarrassment, swallowed dry saliva. Suddenly, a cool voice came from behind.
"Are you going to tell the patient's secrets, is that okay doctor?"
With a familiar voice, Josh looked back without knowing himself. Steward also stood up from his seat with a surprised expression. An unexpected man opened the door of the consultation room and stood. there.
"Grayson"
The voice of Steward, exceptionally significant in the calm, has been ringing in his ears. Josh's income statement recalled the words of the receptionist staff, reservations are held.
In an unexpected situation, he was just standing with a blink of an eye.