"What stops you from seeking treatment?" Rachel Foster asked, still puzzled. "With all your wealth, can't you persuade that doctor to treat you?"
"It's not about the money."
"Then what is it...?"
Kingsly Scott turned away and placed his wine glass on the table, a faint smile on his lips. "That doctor and I have a history. She'd probably revel in seeing me suffer."
Rachel took a small sip of her wine and chuckled softly, "Well, with your arrogance and disregard for others, it's no surprise you've made a few noble enemies."
Kingsly's laughter echoed around them.
His mood seemed unusually buoyant, utterly unaffected by the legal battles looming over him.
She studied him, noticing the faint dimples beside his eyes when he laughed, just as they had.
It was a moment of vulnerability that quickly hardened again. She placed her glass down, her voice steady, "If you acknowledge your actions are pathological and wrong, why continue down this path?"
