Vincent.
Even after all these years, I would know that sound anywhere. I turned away from the window. “Let’s focus on your inspection, Doctor. I have patients waiting.”
He smirked. “Of course.”
The arrogance in his tone grated, but I let him wander through the small infirmary. My assistant handed him the medical records, which he flipped through with theatrical disdain.
“Outdated techniques, poor sanitation and no proper equipment.” He clicked his tongue. “And yet your files claim a ninety-two percent recovery rate. Impossible.”
I met his gaze. “Then call it luck.”
“Luck doesn’t operate on a scalpel.”
“Neither does your ego,” I said sharply.
He wasn’t used to being challenged and the silence that followed confirmed it.
His nostrils flared. “You think the Alpha King will protect y
