Chapter 41 CHAPTER 41
Dr. Kai was in his office that moment, going through a stack of client medical reports, when the door suddenly burst open and his secretary rushed in without warning.
The abrupt intrusion snapped his attention upward.
He frowned immediately, irritation flashing across his face.
“Where are your manners?” he demanded sharply.
The secretary, visibly unsettled, bowed at once.
“I’m very, very sorry, sir,” he said quickly. “I know I should have knocked. I know I should have followed due process. But something just happened, something I believe you need to see immediately.”
Dr. Kai leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing.
“What could possibly be so important,” he said coldly, “that it made you forget to knock and barge into my office like this?”
The secretary swallowed nervously, then stepped closer.
“You just have to see it, sir.”
Without wasting another second, he stretched the tablet out toward him.
“Please,” he said, his voice tense. “You need to see what the hell is going on.”
Dr. Kai took the iPad from his hand and looked down at the screen.
A video was already open.
He pressed play.
The moment the footage began, his expression changed.
It was the scene from the restaurant, that same restaurant.
That same terrible incident, the woman collapsing, the confusion, the crowd.
And right there in the video was the exact moment he had failed to save her—followed by the part where Megan stepped in and gave the woman the water she had received from the traditional healer.
His jaw tightened.
What made it worse was the narrative spreading alongside the video: that he, Dr. Kai, had been unable to diagnose what was wrong with the woman, while some mysterious stranger had succeeded where he had failed.
His own face was clearly visible in the footage.
But Megan’s face, for some strange reason, had been partially obscured.
That only made him angrier.
His grip on the tablet tightened.
“So that little bastard actually posted this?” he spat. “Who posted it?”
The secretary shook his head.
“That’s the problem, sir,” he said. “The post came from an anonymous account. It was uploaded anonymously, and I’ve been trying to track it for some time now, but I haven’t been able to get to the root of it.”
Dr. Kai was still holding the iPad so tightly that it seemed as though he might crack the screen with the force of his grip alone.
His face had darkened completely, every line in it sharpened by outrage. His breathing had changed too slow, controlled, but dangerously so, the kind of calm that usually came just before an explosion.
Then, in a voice thick with restrained fury, he said, “I think I know who did this.”
The secretary, who had been standing stiffly in front of the desk, immediately leaned forward.
“Who?” he asked at once. “Who did this, sir?”
But Dr. Kai did not answer right away.
He kept staring at the video, replaying the details in his head, his mind moving through every frame with brutal precision. The angle of the camera. The timing. The selective visibility. The way his own face had been made clear enough to be recognized, while Megan’s had somehow been obscured just enough to avoid scrutiny.
It was too deliberate, too convenient, too calculated.
Seeing that Dr. Kai was still silent, the secretary pressed on, his own panic beginning to rise.
“Sir, this is bad,” he said. “Very bad. You need to see the comments under the video. The reaction is getting out of hand.”
He pointed urgently at the tablet.
“And have you seen how many views it has already gathered? It’s almost at five million. Five million, sir.”
His voice dropped with dread.
“If this isn’t handled immediately if this is allowed to spread unchecked the public narrative is going to change overnight. People are already making up their minds.”
He swallowed and added, “Please, sir. Look at the comments.”
For a moment, Dr. Kai said nothing.
Then, with stiff fingers, he tapped the screen and opened the comment section.
At once, the screen flooded with an endless stream of reactions.
The first comment hit like a punch.
“It seems Dr. Kai doesn’t actually know what he’s doing.”
Another followed.
“He only treats rich people with expensive machines and luxury equipment. Take all that away, and he can’t even identify a basic condition.”
Another.
“Just imagine—simple dehydration, and he couldn’t diagnose it. Yet he calls himself one of the best doctors in the city? What a joke.”
Dr. Kai’s eyes darkened further as he kept scrolling.
“What exactly is wrong with him?”
“No wonder he sticks to high-profile patients and politicians. That way his incompetence never gets exposed.”
“So all this time, was it the equipment doing the work and not him?”
“Could it be that Dr. Kai isn’t actually brilliant?”
“Maybe his reputation was just hype.”
“Could it be that we all overestimated him?”
“What if he’s not good at all?”
Each new line was worse than the last.
Every word chipped away at the image he had spent years building.
Dr. Kai was not merely another physician in the city. He was a name people recognized instantly, a man associated with excellence, confidence, and results. His opinion was sought by powerful families. His decisions carried influence. His skill had become part of his identity.
And now, in the space of a few hours, faceless strangers sitting behind glowing screens were reducing him to a fraud.
His jaw tightened so hard that it started to twitch.
Then his hand began to shake.
Then the other.
The secretary noticed it immediately but said nothing.
With a sudden, angry movement, Dr. Kai exited the comment section. He lowered the tablet just enough to stare past it, his eyes blazing with a rage that had now gone beyond ordinary anger.
“I know who did this,” he said again, this time with absolute certainty. “It was Megan.”
The name came out like poison.
“That good-for-nothing bastard,” he spat. “She made sure her face wasn’t fully shown. She was careful. Too careful. That alone tells me everything I need to know.”
Then he rose halfway from his chair, too agitated to remain still.
“She probably arranged all of this from the beginning. It was a setup. A complete setup.”
He began pacing now, the iPad still in his hand, his thoughts spiraling faster and faster.
“Who knows?” he said bitterly. “Maybe that pregnant woman was never even seriously ill. Maybe she wasn’t sick at all. Maybe the whole thing was staged just to humiliate me and drag my name through the mud.”