The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 181

Chapter 181

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with a warm smile, Charles crossed his arms and spoke to fasmine in a voice as soft and sweet as honey.

“I don’t have time to play games with you, sis. But if you ever realize that your greed has led you astray–if God spares you and you decide to hand back what’s rightfully mine, then come find me. Return the throne of Vancouver to its true king.

He turned sharply on his heel, tossing a final jab over his shoulder. “I hope you figure out the right path instead of chasing demons. But I won’t hold my breath.”

Jasmine stood there, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Their father had once assured her that Vancouver would belong to her, while Charles got Los Angeles.

How could Charles now claim that he was in the right–and she was the one in the wrong?

Alex placed a comforting hand on Jasmine’s arm.

“You know how it is when someone sets their desire and ambition on something. They’ll rationalize anything to get it destroy whomever they need to, all under the guise of good intentions.”

The road to hell is always paved with good intentions. 1

Jasmine’s voice trembled. “Did I make a mistake, Alex? Should I just give everything to Charles and end this ridiculous family feud?”

“I can’t say,” Alex replied with a small shrug.

“But I believe your father had his reasons for giving Vancouver to you. Maybe you should ask him directly.”

Jasmine let out a long sigh and nodded.

“Fine. I’ll do that. And… thanks for helping us get out of Vermont and back here to Vancouver.”

“No problem,” Alex said, though a puzzled look crossed his face. “But how exactly did we end up here?”

“You get us into Vancouver, and Kelly called her friends. They’re the ones who got us the rest of the way, Jasmine said.

She kissed Alex on the cheek, then turned and walked away.

As soon as Jasmine was gone, Alex slipped into the hospital ward- only to be stopped by Florence, her eyes burning with fury.

“What do you think you’re doing here, Alex?” she snapped.

He offered a subdued nod. “I heard Granddad’s sick. I came to see how he’s doing.”

Her lip curled in disgust. “Don’t pretend you care. You’re no longer my son–in–law; we don’t want you here! I suppose you sniffed out that my father’s not got long, and you’re hoping to sink your claws into the family fortune?”

From the other end of the hallway, Sophia rushed over, looking alarmed. “Mom, calm down, What‘ oing on?”

“What’s going on? This bastard is trying to worm his way back in,” Florence spat.

“He’s acting concerned, but I bet he wants a piece of your grandfather’s inheritance.”

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Chapter 181

Sophia squared her shoulders, stepping between them.

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Mom, please. Let him in. Grandpa always treated Alex like his own grandson.” She shot Alex a wary glance. “Just … behave yourself, okay?”

Florence looked ready to protest again but forced her lips into a thin line and stepped aside begrudgingly.

“Fine. But I’m warning you: keep your distance, and don’t you dare make trouble.”

Alex hurried into the room.

Abraham Lancaster looked ghastly pale, his breathing shallow.

One glance told Alex something was terribly wrong; when he laid a hand on the old man’s wrist, he discovered signs of poisoning–an artificial toxin, far more complex than any common ailment.

Who on earth would poison Abraham?

Alex wondered, his mind already racing with possible antidotes.

Human–synthesized poisons were treacherous, often showing hot–and–cold symptoms that confounded doctors.

“Sophia,” Alex said in a low, urgent tone, “go get me some hot water–now.”

She folded her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Excuse me? Why on earth would you need that? Since when did you become some kind of medical genius?”

“Because if we wait any longer, it’ll be too late,” Alex replied. He took a breath, forcing himself to remain calm.” Please just trust me.”

Florance let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Oh, please. You’re going to save him? Do you even hear yourself right now?”

She glanced around, as though seeking confirmation that everyone else found Alex equally ridiculous. “You’re not a doctor. You’re not even certified to give someone a band–aid.”

Alex’s eyes hardened and looked at Sophia. “I’ve told you before–I’m known as ‘God’s Hands.‘ It’s not a joke.”

“God’s Hands?” Jack echoed mockingly, eyebrows shooting up. “You really never get tired of tooting your own horn, do you? Next, you’ll be telling me you can bring back the dead.”

Sophia looked at Alex’s serious face and sighed. She tried to trust him and went to fetch the water.

Moments later, she reappeared with a bowl of steaming water, only for Florence to slap it out of her hands.

The bowl shattered against the floor, water splashing everywhere.

Florence stepped in next, glaring at Alex with the force of a thunderstorm. “So this is your latest stunt?” she demanded. “Risk my father’s life with your self–important grandstanding?”

“Yeah,” another family member chimed in, voice thick with disgust. “As if he isn’t suffering enough. You want to play hero and make it all worse?”

Alex clenched his jaw, suppressing the urge to snap back. “I’m not playing at anything–I’m trying to help.”

“Help,” Florence repeated with a cold sneer. “From a guy who can’t even hold down a stable job, never mind a medical license. You think you can fix what professional doctors can’t? Will you take responsibility when it all

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Chapter 181

goes to hell?”

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Someone else scoffed in the background. “You’re nothing more than a washed–up ex–soldier. Stop pretending to be something you’re not.”

Alex’s frustration was painfully clear. “I’m telling you, I can help! You have to believe me!”

But Florence stood firm, glaring daggers at him.

“We’re not letting you experiment on him! This is Abraham Lancaster’s life we’re talking about, you arrogant fool.”

Alex forced himself to remain composed. “So who’s going to save him, then?”

Florence’s voice dripped with condescension. “Dr. Vincent Foster is on his way. He can save Abraham. Not you.”

At that moment, Charles arrived with a tall, bespectacled man in a crisp white coat. The man walked in wearing an air of superiority so thick you could almost taste it.

“Dr. Foster,” Charles introduced him proudly, “thank you for coming on such short notice.”

A chorus of flattery and praise followed as everyone tried to impress the renowned apprentice of Dr. Jonathan Owens, the country’s legendary physician.

Dr. Foster gazed around with a smug smirk as though the entire world existed to applaud him.

He barely inclined his head. “I only came out of respect for Mr. Charles‘ request. Normally, I’m far too busy treating high–level officials or VIPs to bother with house calls.”

He stepped over to Abraham’s bed. “Now, let’s see this so–called mysterious illness.”

While he took the old man’s pulse, Alex stood by, bristling with impatience. He’d already recognized the cause. He could stop the poison, if only they’d let him.

Dr. Foster hummed thoughtfully, then straightened his white coat.

“Hm. Cold and hot fever, yes? Some rare variation, I see. In that case, a special mixture of herbs and heat treatments will do. It’ll be a touch challenging, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Flores and Charles all but beamed. “So you can cure him?”

“Of course I can,” Dr. Foster declared. “Though it won’t be cheap.

“That’s fine!” Florence exclaimed, excited. “Anything, as long as he’s saved.”

Alex’s patience snapped. “You’re mistaken,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “What Granddad has isn’t some hot–and–cold fever. He’s been deliberately poisoned with a synthesized toxin. Your herbal bowl might worsen his condition.”

Dr. Foster whipped around, eyes flaring. “What did you just say?”

Alex took a step forward, jaw tight. “I’m saying that if you treat a poison like a mere fever, you’ll kill him. So maybe you should swallow that pride and let someone who knows the difference step in.”

Stunned silence flooded the room, broken only by the outraged scoffs of Florence and Charles. Dr. Foster’s face grew red with anger, and he pushed his glasses up his nose.

“How dare you question me, boy? Who the hell do you think you are?”