The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Dr Mystral

The morning after her dinner with Xan, Elera woke up with a new kind of purpose humming under her skin. It was not the quiet, secret purpose of her hidden lives, but a sharp and immediate one. She had a patient. A real, complicated, and terrifyingly important patient. She did her morning jog, her mind not on Xan or her father, but on cellular regeneration and genetic markers. The park around her was just a blur of green as she mentally reviewed the data from Drakonius’s file.

When she got back home, she did not bother with the pretense Chapter 6 His Perfect Doll

“Elera. I haven’t heard from you. How was your little outing today?”

She closed her eyes, summoning the breathy, vacant tone. “It was fine, Daddy. I just went shopping. I needed a new dress for my dinner with Xan tonight.”

“Good, good. Don’t be late. And remember what I said.”

“Of course, Daddy. I remember.” Smile, be sweet, and let him take the lead.

She hung up, the familiar resentment a cold stone in her stomach. But it was different now. The stone was being forged into a weapon.

She left the lab, the problems of Drakonius’s DNA and her father’s expectations swirling in her mind. At home, she transformed once more into the version of Elera that Xan expected. She chose a dress of pale lavender silk, simple and elegant, and left her hair down in soft waves. She looked in the mirror and practiced a smile, letting it reach her eyes just enough to be convincing, but not enough to be intelligent.

Xan arrived exactly on time. He looked devastatingly handsome in a dark blue suit, his green eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at her.

“You look beautiful, Elera,” he said, handing her a single, perfect white orchid. The gesture was so good, so designed to portray refined taste and romance, that she almost laughed.

“Thank you, Xan. It’s lovely.” She tucked it into her hair, playing her part.

Dinner was at a restaurant so exclusive it didn’t have a name on the door. The food was exquisite, the wine was older than she was, and Xan was the perfect date. He listened to her talk about the romance novel she “was “reading,” he complimented her delicate taste, and he made her feel like the only woman in the world.

He was building her a gilded cage, polishing the bars with every charming smile.

“So, the yacht this weekend,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand. His skin was warm, his grip firm. “I’m really looking forward to it. Just the two of us, the open sea…”

“It sounds like a dream,” she breathed, her eyes wide with feigned excitement. Inside, her mind was cold and clear. She knew what he planned for that yacht. Isolated, vulnerable, with a crew loyal only to him. It was the perfect place to begin the process of breaking her spirit, of collecting the “evidence” he needed.

“I promise you, Elera,” he said, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur. “I’m going to make you the happiest woman in the world.”

You have no idea, she thought, that my happiness is a fortress you will never breach.

He drove her home and walked her to the door. This time, his kiss was less hesitant, more possessive. It was a brand, a claim. She allowed it, her lips soft and pliant under his, her mind a million miles away, already in her lab, already working on the problem of Drakonius Vex.

When she was finally alone in her room, she wiped the faint trace of his lipstick from her mouth. She opened her laptop, not to hack Xan’s emails, but to begin a new file.

Patient: Drakonius Vex. Condition: Degenerative Genomic Instability. Proposed Treatment: Chimera Protocol.

She typed late into the night, the city sleeping around her. She was no longer just playing defense against Xan’s plot. She was now on the offensive, with a new, infinitely more complex mission: to cheat death itself.

of a long, leisurely breakfast. She showered, pulled on a simple pair of trousers and a soft cashmere sweater, and headed straight for her secret lab. The world above thought Elyrian Nethys was probably still asleep, or maybe planning her next shopping trip. Down here, three levels below the earth, Dr. Mystral was going to war. She texted Drakonius where she was.

At exactly ten o’clock, a soft chime echoed through the lab, a signal from the private garage elevator. Her heart did a funny little skip, not of fear, but of anticipation. This was it.

He moved toward the chair, and she did not miss the slight hesitation in his step, the way he subtly used the back of the chair for support as he sat down. It was a small thing, but it spoke volumes about the pain he lived with every day, pain he was so good at hiding from the world.

He looked up at her, and for a moment, she saw not the powerful billionaire, but a man facing a terrifying unknown. “I understand.”

She started with the blood draw. His arm was corded with muscle, but the skin was cool. She found a vein easily, her movements efficient and gentle. He watched her, his gaze intense.

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