I Saved an Heiress but Was Burned Alive. This Time, I Looked Away.

A woman in an expensive evening gown collapsed outside my clinic. I treated her and spent the entire night saving her life. But when her fiancé arrived, he demanded coldly, "You drugged her, didn't you?" Only then did I learn she was one of the capital's most famous heiresses. When she woke up, she spoke as if offering me charity. "Close your clinic. I own a mansion in the hills. You'll live there from now on, and I'll visit you once a week." After the initial shock, I firmly refused. Her fiancé slapped me across the face. "Still not satisfied? You think a country bumpkin like you deserves to be the Dawson heiress' husband?" I threw them out. Within a day, health inspectors and police officers came one after another. My clinic was shut down, my landlord evicted me, and the neighbors gathered around, accusing me of running an illegal clinic. I tracked the woman down and furiously demanded answers, but she merely swirled her red wine and gave a resigned smile. "The poor boy who refuses a handout? That story's old, and you're a terrible actor. Drop the act." "You saved me on purpose because you wanted to seduce me, didn't you?" She locked me in her hillside mansion and said she would take her time training me. But a late-night fire put an end to my life. When I opened my eyes again, a heavy thud came from outside my clinic. I kept my eyes on my tea, took a sip, and pretended I heard nothing. Chapter 1 In my previous life, Clara Dawson locked me in her hillside mansion. She said I was too headstrong for someone who chose to be her kept man and needed to be tamed until I learned to serve my owner. After she left, Mason Sutton barged in with a group of men. He planted his leather shoe on my face and smiled with cold malice. "A country bumpkin with a clinic, dreaming of marrying into the Dawson family? You're just a novelty to Clara. She'll have a taste, get bored, and throw you away." Gasoline ran down my face and into my nose, choking me. He turned and left. The mansion's front door was locked from outside. The entire mountain became my funeral pyre. Even as I died, I couldn't understand what I did wrong. All I did was save someone out of kindness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my familiar clinic. A heavy thud came from outside. I kept my eyes on my tea and pretended not to hear it. After a brief silence, someone began pounding urgently on the door. I stayed in my seat. It was two in the morning. I was asleep. I couldn't hear a thing. Someone would find her body early the next morning, but that was none of my business. The pounding grew faster. My lack of response clearly made her impatient. Then it happened. Crash! Someone smashed the wooden door open. I jumped to my feet and rushed downstairs. The broken lock fell to the floor. Clara stumbled inside with one hand pressed to her chest. Her face was deathly pale, and her lips were an alarming shade of blue. Fury surged through me. If she had the strength to break down my door, why couldn't she take herself to a hospital? Clara's gaze passed over the wreckage on the floor and locked onto me. Her tone allowed no refusal. "Come here. Give me treatment and prepare my medicine." I took three steps back. I picked up my phone and dialed 911. I gave my address in a clear, steady voice and hung up. Then I started recording. I aimed the camera at her. "It's two fifteen in the morning. This woman broke down my clinic's door and forced her way inside. I've already called 911. This video is evidence that I haven't touched her at any point." Clara's eyes widened sharply. She spoke through clenched teeth, her voice full of disbelief and anger. "What are you doing?" "Reporting this and recording the evidence." My voice remained calm. "If anything happens to you, it has nothing to do with me." Her chest heaved. No one probably ever treated her this way before. She was one of the capital's most prominent heiresses. Half the business community bent to her whims. "You—" She swayed and collapsed before she could finish. Chapter 2 The ambulance arrived quickly. I followed her to the emergency department. The sharp clack of dress shoes against the tiled floor came from the far end of the corridor. Mason strode up to me and swung his hand at my face. "You drugged Clara, didn't you? I've seen plenty of men like you!" I raised my hand and shoved his arm aside. "Get your facts straight. Your fiancée broke down my door and forced her way inside in the middle of the night." "If I hadn't called 911, she'd be dead." Clara's father followed close behind and looked me up and down. He eyed me like a cheap item at a flea market. "You saved my daughter. Naturally, I'll compensate you." "But remember your place. Know what you can ask for and what you have no right to expect." He sighed. "Clara is innocent by nature. She's never seen how devious men from the lower classes can be. That's how she fell into your trap." Mason grabbed my collar, pinched the side of my neck between two fingers, and yanked me sideways, raising his voice. "Clara left this, didn't she? How many times did you sleep with her? You shameless scumbag!" I looked down. There was a red mark on my neck. A mosquito must have bitten me at some point. "That's not..." I tried to explain, but Mason suddenly seemed to think of something, and his voice turned harsh. "Have you had a vasectomy?" At that, Clara's mother's expression changed sharply. The disgust in her eyes gave way to suspicion. "You have no right to get Clara pregnant." Her voice turned cold and firm. "Don't think you can marry into our family by getting her pregnant. Even if Clara has a hundred of your children, you'll never be worthy of setting foot in the Dawson home!" She turned and ordered the bodyguards to take me for a vasectomy immediately. Mason grabbed me and started tearing at my clothes. I shoved him away. "Why are you resisting?" Jealousy burned in Mason's eyes. "You really are a scheming bastard. You think getting her pregnant will secure your place? Dream on!" He kicked me in the lower abdomen. I doubled over, my back hitting the wall. Just then, a shout came from the other end of the corridor. "Stop hitting him!" Two police officers approached. "Who called the police?" "I did." I held my stomach and braced myself against the wall as I straightened up. Mason roared in fury. "You bastard! You actually called the police?" I ignored him, took out my phone, and played the video. "This woman smashed down my clinic's door and broke in at two in the morning. I called 911 and saved her life. When her fiancé and father arrived at the hospital, they assaulted me and tried to force medication down my throat." The footage clearly showed everything, from Clara breaking down my door to her collapse and my getting her to the hospital. Mason and Clara's mother both looked grim. Mason refused to back down and sneered. "Even if that's true, you should have left after saving Clara. Why are you still hanging around? You're just using it as leverage to get into our family!" The treatment room door suddenly opened. "The patient is awake." Mason and Clara's mother turned at the same time and started to rush inside. The doctor spoke again. "The patient says she wants to see Ian Hughes." When I went in, Clara was propped against the headboard. Her face was pale, but the same look of superiority was back in her eyes. "You're very good at this." Her voice was still hoarse from her recent unconsciousness. "You deliberately opened your clinic along a route I take. Where did you find out about my congenital heart condition?" "Then, when I had an episode, you deliberately refused to open the door. You played hard to get so I'd think you were different." She sighed, as if resigned to the success of my supposed scheme. "Congratulations. You won." It was so absurd I couldn't speak, but Clara mistook my silence for shyness. "Now that you've achieved your goal, there's no need to keep the clinic open. I have a mansion in the hills. Move in, and I'll visit you once a week. Go to the hospital and get a vasectomy yourself. You're not worthy of having a child with me." "I don't like men flaunting themselves in public. From now on, you can't leave without my permission. The housekeeper will take care of your daily needs." Chapter 3 When she finished speaking, the hospital room fell silent. Clara raised an eyebrow when she didn't see the delight she expected. "What? Don't tell me you think you can become the Dawson heiress' husband." She acted as if she had my best interests at heart. "Listen to me. Marrying into the Dawson family isn't an option for you." I stared at her, speechless, then turned and called outside. "Officer." Clara's expression changed sharply, and she sat up. "Ian, you—" Before she could finish, the officer explained everything that happened. "Our investigation confirms that Mr. Hughes had nothing to do with your medical episode. You also broke his door, so you should cover the cost of replacing it." Clara's smug expression faded into something unreadable. She stared at me. She probably never imagined a man would call the police after she lowered herself to offer him such a favor. "Don't bother paying." I looked at her without hiding my disgust. "All I want is for you to stay away from me, Miss Dawson. You bring nothing but trouble." After a long pause, Clara gave a soft laugh. "This is a lot to take in. You're not thinking clearly." She slowly settled back against the pillows, her voice certain. "Of course. Any man would be overwhelmed with joy at an opportunity like this. I'll give you time to calm down." I laughed in disbelief. Without another word, I turned and left. Early the next morning, a vehicle from the health department stopped outside my clinic, and inspectors sealed the entrance. The neighbors gathered around. The inspector didn't speak loudly, but every word was clear. "Suspected use of illegal drugs, sexual harassment of patients, and disruption of medical services." The crowd erupted. "You'd never guess by looking at him..." "So, he's a criminal. Men like that disgust me!" "I got medicine here before! What if he secretly filmed me?" I didn't defend myself. In my previous life, I shouted myself hoarse and knelt on the ground, begging them to investigate properly. All I got was louder ridicule and a lease termination notice my landlord threw in my face. I took down the clinic sign my family had passed down for three generations, wrapped it in an old sheet, and locked up. Back home, I found a business card at the bottom of a drawer and dialed the number on it. "I'll attend tomorrow's medical conference." That was all I said. An excited gasp came from the other end. After I hung up, an unknown number sent me a location. Two words followed. "Come here." There was no explanation, but I could guess who sent it. I stared at those two words, sneered, and blocked the number without hesitation. An hour later, someone knocked on my front door. Several men dressed in black crowded the doorway. "Mr. Hughes, Miss Dawson would like you to come with us." I gave a two-word answer. "Not going." One of the men shoved me aside and barged in. His gaze landed on the green-glazed porcelain urn on the table. He casually smashed it on the floor. Porcelain shards flew, and pale gray powder scattered everywhere. "Sorry about that." He grinned. "We're just hired muscle. We don't know any better. If you won't cooperate, Mr. Hughes, more things might get broken by accident." My whole body tensed. Those were my mother's ashes. I kept them with me for ten years. I took a deep breath. "I'll go with you." When we reached the private dining room, a glass of red wine hit me in the face before I could even see who was inside. Mason held the empty glass and turned to laugh with the men and women around the table. "See? I told you! Once he knew Clara was here, he'd come running!" Everyone at the table laughed and looked me over like something on the menu. "This is him? He's nothing special." "A country bumpkin like him is just a novelty. She'd get bored after a few days." Mason grabbed my collar. "Everyone gets a punch. Anyone who refuses is disrespecting me." Chapter 4 Clara lounged in the middle of the couch and sighed. "Mason is upset. Just put up with it. He's my future husband, after all. There'll be plenty more days like this. You need to get used to it." I took a deep breath. "Did you ever ask whether I wanted this?" I looked Clara in the eye and spoke slowly and firmly. "I already told you. I want nothing to do with you, and I certainly don't want to be your kept man." Clara shook her head with a resigned expression. "Playing hard to get once or twice is enough. Keep it up, and women just get sick of you." Her tone turned admonishing. "What you need to learn now is how to please me." I shoved Mason away. As he screamed at me, I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and smashed it at his feet. For a moment, everything went quiet. Then a woman called out. "He's kind of hot." I pushed open the door and left without breaking stride. The next day arrived. The city's largest conference center was packed for a medical symposium organized by the Clifford International Medical Association. I sat in the front row. As I looked down at the rankings sheet, a pair of high heels came into view. Clara's voice came from above me. "Didn't I tell you I don't like men showing off in public?" I looked up into her visibly displeased eyes. "And you chose an event this big." A woman in a red evening gown leaned over beside her. "Clara, what's wrong?" Clara spoke casually. "Nothing. My man isn't behaving. He just needs to be taught a lesson." The woman followed Clara's gaze to me. She froze, then immediately straightened up. Her tone became so respectful it bordered on reverence. "Mr. Hughes, you're here! You declined so many of our invitations. To have you here today is such..." She trailed off. Clara's expression changed. She finally noticed the name card on my seat. [Special Guest — Ian Hughes] She fell silent for a few seconds, then gave a soft laugh. "I'll give you this." She bent down. "You have plenty of tricks. Playing the poor boy determined to make it on his own wasn't enough. Now you're deliberately showing me what you're capable of so I'll think you're different from other men. Is that it?" Her smile widened, but her eyes stayed cold. "Unfortunately for you..." "You don't realize this symposium is organized by Clifford, and the Dawson family has very close ties to them." She straightened up and beckoned. The event organizer hurried over. Clara pointed at me. "Remove this man from the guest list and blacklist him." The organizer didn't move. Neither did I. Clara's expression shifted. "What are you waiting for?" She noticed the people gathered around her were slowly moving away. They left a ten-foot gap around her. I smiled. "Do you know why this international organization is called Clifford?" I finally spoke, meeting her startled, uncertain gaze. "Because my grandfather's name is Clifford Hughes." Someone suddenly pushed open a side door. An elderly man with a full head of white hair hurried in, a badge identifying him as Clifford's president pinned to his suit. Clara's mother followed him, looking equally disheveled, her face ashen. "Mr. Hughes!" The elderly man hurried up to me and bowed slightly. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Clara’s mother bent forward in a full ninety-degree bow.