8. Justice For A Valencia
1427 Words
Emily let out a breath when she finally left the Valencia household. Nicholas was panting, sweat dripping down his forehead. Emily kept glancing at him, a bad feeling rising in her chest. She had just left her own engagement party with her fiancé s younger brother. If any of the reporters obsessed with the Valencia brothers spotted her, it would turn into a full-blown disaster.
She kept driving until she reached a small clinic and pulled into the parking lot before helping the groaning Nicholas inside.
It seemed to be a quiet clinic, almost empty. An elderly man in a lab coat stood up the moment Emily pushed the door open.
“Dr. Lawrence, help me—my friend has been stabbed, and I need you to treat him.”
Dr. Lawrence hurried toward her. “Emily, what trouble have you gotten yourself into?” His voice trailed off when he saw Nicholas. His eyes widened. “I guess this really is trouble. Lay him on the bed.”
He grabbed his medical kit and examined the wound, peeling Nicholas’s hand away. “This area was already infected and stabbed again,” the doctor muttered. “You didn’t get treated for the first injury, but you still had the strength to reopen it.”
Emily stepped back as Dr. Lawrence began working. Nicholas groaned with every touch of disinfectant.
After a few minutes, Dr. Lawrence reached for a syringe. Nicholas immediately tensed, panic flashing in his eyes. Emily walked closer.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “That thing isn’t getting anywhere near me.”
Emily let out a small chuckle. “You’re scared of needles?”
Dr. Lawrence sighed, “He needs a tetanus vaccine. It’s important.”
Emily leaned in close. “I need you to stay still.”
“I’m fine,” Nicholas muttered, but he started to pull away.
Before he could, Emily grabbed his chin and pressed her lips against his. The world seemed to vanish. For a heartbeat, there was only the warmth of his mouth, the faint tremble in his breath, and her fingers sliding up through his hair. Their lips moved in perfect sync—until she broke away, breathless.
“Sister-in-law,” Nicholas murmured, dazed.
Dr. Lawrence stared at them in shock, the syringe still in his hand.
Emily, equally stunned by her own actions, turned away. “I need air,” she muttered and rushed out of the room.
She stopped at the parking lot, clutching her chest.
What was happening to her?
Her mind flashed back to the moment at the clinic bed — the warmth of his lips, the way the world had gone still. She had only wanted to calm him, to reassure him that everything would be fine. But kissing him? That was her first kiss, and she’d handed it to almost a stranger — the Valencia family’s notorious playboy.
The clinic door creaked open. Dr. Lawrence stepped out, pulling off his gloves. Emily straightened, giving him a sheepish look.
He didn’t smile. “Young lady,” he said sternly, “we need to talk.”
Emily followed him back inside. Nicholas lay on the bed, eyes closed, his breathing steady.
“He’ll be fine,” Dr. Lawrence said, pushing open the door to his small office. “I can’t say the same for you, though.”
He sat behind his desk. Emily took a seat opposite him. “How are you doing, Dr. Lawrence?” she tried.
He removed his glasses and gave her a hard look. “I haven’t seen you in three years, and you show up with the Valencia heir stabbed half to death? Who should be asking how you are?”
“It’s not that bad, Dr. Lawrence.”
He raised a brow. “Not that bad? He called you sister-in-law. Are you married? Or are you the rumored Valencia bride-to-be who just kissed her fiancé’s brother?”
Emily’s cheeks flamed. “It was a mistake.”
He leaned back, unimpressed. “That wasn’t a mistake. That was bottled-up desire that finally escaped.”
“No.” Emily snapped, “I just wanted him to take the injection, that’s all.”
“I hope so, Emily Duke,” he said quietly. “For your sake, I really hope so.”
Emily looked around the small office. The walls were lined with old photos — snapshots from her childhood, her mother smiling beside Dr. Lawrence. Memories she tried to bury.
“Nothing’s changed here,” she murmured.
“I didn’t want to change it,” he said softly. “I always wanted you to come by, but I thought... maybe I reminded you too much of your mother.”
Emily smiled faintly. “Today’s actually my engagement party. To Noah Valencia. It’s supposed to save Kevin’s life, but... I don’t want to go back there.”
“You don’t love him?”
She shook her head. “And he can’t even stand me.”
Dr. Lawrence sighed. “You’re making a great sacrifice for your brother. The world has a way of repaying kindness, Emily.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Does it? Because so far, the world’s been cruel. First my mom died, then my dad remarried and treated Kevin and me like burdens. I swore I’d make him proud — make him see I was worth loving — but he died before I could. And now Kevin’s sick, and I’m marrying a stranger with his head in the clouds just to save him.”
She wiped at her tears. “Tell me, Doctor... where’s the reward in that?”
“Emily…”
She stood abruptly. “I should go. When he wakes up… tell him to go home.”
Minutes later, Dr. Lawrence returned to the clinic after making sure Emily had entered a cab.
“Can you stop pretending to be asleep?” he said.
At his words, Nicholas sat upright with a small frown on his face.
“You knew I wasn’t asleep,” Nicholas asked.
Dr. Lawrence didn’t say a word.
“Are you embarrassed after being kissed by your sister-in-law?” he asked.
Nicholas coughed, turning away. “How do you know her? I didn’t know she married my brother because of her brother’s medical fees.”
Dr. Lawrence sighed. “Her mother, Vivian, was my best friend. Emily is my goddaughter. She’s already in a big mess, and I don’t want her getting mesmerized by someone who drawls the word sister-in-law.”
Nicholas smiled softly. “I just wanted to tease her. She seems quite angry when I call her that.”
“If you have no interest in her, allow her to marry your brother in peace. Don’t make her heart wage a war against her. Emily is a soft child, always has been. She doesn’t get hurt easily—but when she does, it’s always too deep and too heartbreaking.”
Nicholas nodded and pulled his wallet out. “How much for my treatment?”
“Don’t worry about payment. Let’s take this as an agreement—you will leave my goddaughter alone.”
Nicholas smiled sheepishly and pulled out several bills, then grabbed Dr. Lawrence’s hand and forcefully stuffed the money into it. “Don’t make me make promises I can’t keep, Doctor.”
Dr. Lawrence froze, but Nicholas simply picked up his bloodied shirt and left.
He got into his car but didn’t return to the Valencia household; instead he ended at a closed-down warehouse. He got out and went inside. The place was neatly arranged with a bed and a chair, but on the wall several photos were pasted: photos of his parents, his brother, his uncle and a few other faces. On top someone had written, MURDER OF LUKE AND MARGARET VALENCIA.
He took a marker and crossed off one face, then pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and his phone. He dialed a number and it connected almost immediately.
“I want you to find out who was the last person my father called before leaving the hotel. I think it’s connected to their murder.”
“Of course, Nicholas. Is that all?”
“Ye—” He paused. “I want to transfer money to someone’s account. Make it seem like a donation.”
“Okay. Send me the information.”
“Thanks, Lucas.” He dropped the phone, then looked at his parents’ picture. “Mom, Dad. I’m close to getting you justice.”
- Writer
