I Play Hard to Get, Trap Billionaire

The first time I met Julian Blackwell, he swaggered into my holistic clinic and demanded by name that I treat him. I had never seen someone so unbelievably arrogant. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a cynical smirk played on his lips as he drawled lazily, "You must be Dr. Sullivan." It wasn't a question, but a statement of fact. I strongly suspected he was here just to pick a fight. Jotting notes in his chart, I glanced at his crossed arms, which appeared completely unharmed. I blinked at him, offering a questioning look. He teased, "Is Dr. Sullivan making eyes at me?" In an instant, my gaze shifted to his head. Scanning from his temples to his eyes, I asked, "Where exactly are you feeling discomfort, sir?" The smile on his lips deepened as he tapped his head and replied, "Right here." My guess was spot on; there really was something wrong with his head. At seventeen, I had dropped out of school to become an apprentice in medicine, eventually following my mentor to Meridia. In my seven years of practice, this was the first time I had encountered a patient who was incredibly handsome but clearly unhinged. Wetting my dry lips, I asked gently, "May I have your name, sir? How should I address you?" He answered succinctly, "Blackwell." I took it in stride, responding, "Mr. Blackwell, how long have you been experiencing these headaches?" Leaning back, he crossed his legs and folded his arms, staring at me in a way that left me entirely baffled. "Seven years," he said. I was overly sensitive to the number seven, so when he casually mentioned that timeframe, my hand suddenly stopped mid-word. Pursing my lips, I looked up at him with a faint smile and said, "You bear a striking resemblance to someone I used to know, Mr. Blackwell." A barely perceptible frown touched his brow. Grabbing the back of the chair, he stood up abruptly and cast me a look of sheer disgust. Then, he left. He had arrived full of arrogance and departed in an inexplicable fury, though he did leave behind a business card. Julian, the Crown Prince of Meridia and heir to an elite family, was someone who existed in a completely different world from mine. But as fate would have it, our paths crossed again when his family summoned me during one of his severe migraine attacks. The next time I saw Julian, he was lying in bed, pale as a ghost. The moment he saw me, he ordered me out. His parents exchanged an awkward glance with me. Mrs. Blackwell, in particular, looked deeply apologetic as she explained, "I am so sorry, Dr. Sullivan. My son has quite the temper when his condition acts up." I figured his reaction was relatively tame; at least he wasn't yelling at his own mother to get lost. "Get out! Tell her to get the hell out!" he suddenly roared. Julian was rapidly approaching the edge of a violent outburst. His voice was so loud it left a ringing in my ears. My attempt at self-deception had failed. Staring at his furious face, the urge to turn around and flee started bubbling up again, but a stronger conviction overrode it. I was going to cure him. It was the only thought left in my mind. I asked his parents to help hold him down so I could perform acupuncture. As I inserted the needles, I kept studying Julian's furious, wide-eyed expression. Looking at him from every angle, I was deeply bewildered. Were there really two identical people in this world? Could they be twin brothers?