The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 827

Clive's voice trailed off into a mumble, his fingers unconsciously picking at the edge of his blanket.

"Besides, I didn't say I was going to stop taking the pills."

Zeus stared at him for a few seconds before the tight, furious lines around his mouth finally relaxed.

"You're fighting HIV. Of course you're going to feel terrible."

"Think about it. You have a lethal virus. Did you really think suppressing it wouldn't come with a price? Not even a miracle drug could pull that off without some heavy side effects."

He picked up a pill bottle from the table, pointing to the English label on the front.

Not that Clive could read a word of it.

"Plus, I didn't get these through standard medical channels. The efficacy is highly potent, which naturally means the side effects are amplified. Weakness, nausea, dizziness—those are all standard clinical reactions. Once the virus load stabilizes and we taper you off, those symptoms will disappear."

His tone was soothing now, though it still carried a subtle, heavy undertone of coercion.

"Think about it. If you rush off to some random hospital and a doctor misdiagnoses you, they might pump you full of the wrong drugs. It could interfere with this entire regimen and destroy all our progress."

"If that happens, can you afford the consequences?"

Clive, who was already on the verge of an emotional breakdown from the lecture, was left half-convinced and deeply conflicted. He opened his mouth to argue, but ultimately swallowed his words.

He sneaked a glance at Zeus's stern face, and his lingering doubts were instantly crushed by fear.

Mostly, he was terrified of pissing his brother off and losing his only lifeline.

If Zeus abandoned him, who else could he turn to?

In the end, he caved.

He lowered his head, his voice muffled.

"I know, Zeus... I'll listen to you."

"I won't go to the hospital."

Satisfied, Zeus nodded. He reached out and patted Clive's shoulder, his voice returning to its usual gentle cadence.

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