The Almighty Dominance

The next morning, sunlight splashed through the cracked windows as Alex

unlocked the door to his clinic.

His eyes narrowed sharply at the sight - a battered, bloodied figure sprawled

unconscious at his doorstep.

Alex's pulse quickened as he knelt beside the man, turning him over gently, only

to stare in disbelief.

"Jaxon Creed?" Alex muttered, astonishment darkening his features. "What the

hell happened to you?"

He studied the bruised face, swollen and marred with fresh wounds.

Jaxon Creed, the top knight from Chicago - this was no ordinary beatdown.

With cautious strength, Alex hoisted Jaxon over his shoulder and carried himnoveldrama

carefully inside, laying him on the examination bed.

As Alex assessed the injuries, his trained eyes hardened - gunshot wounds,

shattered bones, nerve damage so severe it made his stomach twist.

"Whoever did this wanted Jaxon crippled for life or dead.

Alex drew a deep breath, determination steadying his hands. Healing this man

would take time, but he trusted his skills to mend even the deepest wounds.

He administered a swift injection, followed by a miracle pill.

Minutes ticked by until finally, with a groan of agony, Jaxon's eyelids fluttered

open. His gaze wandered hazily until settling on Alex.

"You're awake," Alex said gruffly. "How do you feel?"

Jaxon blinked, dazed. "I feel terrible... Did you save me?"

Alex crossed his arms. "You see anyone else here?" he replied, dryly, hiding the

relief in his eyes.

Jaxon tried to sit up, a flash of pain forcing a hiss through clenched teeth.

""Thank you," he muttered earnestly, struggling to bow his head.

"Stay put," Alex snapped firmly, pressing him back onto the bed. "You're barely

holding together."

Jaxon's eyes darkened, shame and frustration fighting across his battered face.

Alex crossed his arms, curiosity biting at him. "You're a tough. Who could've

broken you this badly?"

Jaxon stared at the ceiling, jaw tightening with silent torment. Finally, he

swallowed the humiliation and spoke quietly, each word dragged from his throat.

"I came looking for you," he admitted, voice raw with effort.

Alex raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Why?"

Jaxon drew a shaky breath. "Last night, the Chicago lords laid it all out - they're

targeting Vancouver next week. I told them no. Joining them would've made me a

coward."

Silence hung heavy between them before Jaxon locked eyes with Alex, his voice

low but firm.

"You're the strongest fighter I've ever gone up against. I want you to train me."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Do you even know who I am?" He remembered slipping

into the janitor's disguise to face Jaxon.

"I got the arena's security footage," Jaxon admitted.

"I saw you sneak into the staff bathroom and change into that janitor uniform. I

erased the files. I'm not here to expose you - I'm here because I need to learn,

and I'm hoping you'll say yes."

Alex didn't speak, the silence heavy and meaningful.

Jaxon continued bitterly, "They found out I wanted to meet you and warn you, so

they hunted me down. Nearly finished me off. Managed to lose them just long

enough to reach you."

Alex's jaw tightened, "What's their plan?"

Jaxon's words dropped heavily, chilling the air. "A nuclear strike. They'll force the

other three lords into a full-scale war with Vancouver."

Alex felt a rush of anger surge beneath his calm exterior, yet his voice stayed

level. "Rest first. We'll talk once you're healed."

Jaxon's expression crumbled, despair gripping his bruised features. "My bones,

nerves everything is wrecked. I'll never fight again."

Alex leaned forward, eyes hard with quiet conviction. "Don't worry. I'll rebuild you

stronger than ever."

Hope flashed across Jaxon's eyes, sparking fiercely in his weary gaze. He

gripped Alex's arm with desperate gratitude.

"If you do that, my life is yours. Whatever you need - anything - I won't question

it."

Alex let out a long sigh, his expression easing as he gently helped Jaxon lie back

against the bed.

"No more promises," he muttered. "This is me paying you back - for the warning

about the Chicago lords."

Jaxon nodded slowly, finally relaxing into a weary sleep, a faint smile lingering on

his lips.

Alex stood back, thoughtful eyes staring through the window, knowing the storm

on the horizon had just become far deadlier.

Next hours, he floored the accelerator, cutting swiftly through the streets toward

Kingswell branch, his mind consumed by grim thoughts.

Chicago's lords were courting death, and he needed to alert his people - fast.

But suddenly, red brake lights

flooded the road ahead, forming an

immediate jam. Alex slammed the

brakes, tires screeching sharply.

Panicked shouts echoed outside.

Something awful had clearly happened.

Alex flung open his door and stepped onto the street. Chaos surrounded him -

people screamed desperately.

"Doctor!" someone cried frantically. "Is there a doctor here?"

Alex strode quickly toward the voice. "I'm a doctor."

Relief flashed across the man's face - a large, imposing bodyguard type. "Come

quickly, our madame is hurt badly."

Without hesitating, Alex followed him through the maze of stopped cars until they

reached a horrific scene: two vehicles collided head-on.

One was a massive, armored luxury Hummer, barely damaged. The other was a

small, cheap sedan, crumpled like paper.

The bodyguard flung open the luxury car door, revealing a well-dressed woman

clutching her small bleeding head, groaning in mild discomfort.

But a desperate cry drew Alex's attention away. "Please! Somebody save my

son!"

A young couple, bloodied and weak, clawed desperately at their ruined sedan.

Inside, Alex saw a small boy,

unconscious and limp, impaled

gruesomely by a jagged piece of

metal. The parents' frantic efforts

were futile against the crushed

frame.

"He's trapped - please, help him!" the mother wailed, tears mixing with her blood.

Several bystanders rushed in, pulling and straining against the twisted metal, but

it was no use. The vehicle held firm, imprisoning the child.

"Doctor," the bodyguard barked impatiently. "Our madame's wound is urgent. Tend

to her immediately."

Alex stared coldly at the barely injured woman, her superficial cut nothing

compared to the dying child's desperate plight.

Ignoring the command, he marched decisively toward the crumpled sedan.

""I'll handle this," Alex said, gripping the mangled door handle.

With a surge of fierce strength, he wrenched it back. Metal shrieked and buckled,

the entire door tearing free with a sharp crack, astonishing everyone nearby.

Without hesitation, he forced aside the crumpled metal pinning the boy down.

Swiftly, Alex reached in and carefully unbuckled the boy, gently lifting him from the

wreckage.

Blood soaked through his clothing, deep wounds and fractured bones visible

beneath torn fabric.

The child's breathing was shallow - his survival hung by a thread.

"Ambulance is on the way" a bystander yelled, panic in their voice.

"There's no time!" Alex shot back, lowering the boy carefully onto the pavement.

"I'm a doctor - I'll handle it."

He pulled out a set of acupuncture needles, his hands moving fast and precise.

With practiced focus, he inserted them into key points, slowing the bleeding and

dulling the pain like a natural anesthetic.

But just as Alex's hands moved expertly, cold metal pressed sharply against his

temple.

The bodyguard's voice dropped, cold

and threatening. "Doctor, I warned

you. If you value your life, you'll treat

our madame first. Her life is worth

more than a million of this worthless

brat."