The Real Heiress Rules the World (Sloane Rivers) novel Chapter 441

Chapter 441 Bloodlines in the Desert

Inside the medical tent, Sloane worked in total concentration, her hands steady as she cleaned and stitched Lucas’s wounds. Beth stood silently beside her, watching the young woman’s face under the dim light. She didn’t understand why–but as she watched, tears suddenly began to fall.

When the surgery was over, Sloane pulled off her gloves and turned, only to find Beth quietly crying. Their eyes met, neither speaking.

Beth quickly turned away, wiping her face with her sleeve. “The surgery… was it successful?”

“Lucas is stable for now,” Sloane said tiredly, removing her mask. “But the desert’s no place for recovery. The air’s too dry, too harsh.”

“I’ll arrange a helicopter to take you all to Teshar’s best hospital immediately,” Beth said, already starting toward the exit.

“Wait.”

Sloane’s voice stopped her. She bit her lip, hesitating. “Why are you being so kind to us? Is it… because I look like you?”

Beth froze.

Taking a deep breath, Sloane went on softly, “The truth is… I came to Mirevia because I suspected I might be your daughter.”

Beth spun around, shock and disbelief flashing in her eyes.

“But Jeffrey told me…” Sloane gave a faint, bitter smile. “He said it was impossible. He said the child you lost over twenty years ago was confirmed by a paternity test–your real flesh and blood.”

“I know.” Beth’s voice cracked, trembling with emotion. “I remember that report… I remember that baby. But still…”

Still–she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t stop wanting to protect this girl. When she’d seen Sloane bleeding on the altar, it had felt like someone was tearing her heart apart with a knife.

Sloane lowered her gaze. “Maybe it’s just coincidence,” she murmured.

She didn’t want the Oliver family to think she was using her resemblance for gain, so she had to make things clear.

Before either of them could say another word, Shawn burst into the tent.

“Aunt Beth, something’s wrong!” he said urgently. “Jack’s men said Uncle Tony’s fever won’t break–they think it’s bad.”

Beth’s face drained of color. Without a second thought, she turned to run out, but Sloane caught her arm. “Wait! I’m coming with you!”

“But he…” Beth hesitated, glancing toward Lucas lying unconscious on the cot.

“He’s stable now. Shawn can stay with him,” Sloane said quickly, grabbing her medical kit. “And Mr. Tony might need someone with real medical training.”

Beth had been in such a rush to rescue Shawn and the others that she’d left Tony in Jack’s care.

When they arrived, Tony’s skin was flushed deep red, his breathing ragged, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Sloane knelt beside him, placing three fingers against his wrist. Her brow furrowed. “His fever’s turned inward–his body’s in heat collapse.”

Without hesitation, she pulled a worn leather needle case from her belt, selecting a thin, three- inch silver needle. Her fingers moved quickly and precisely, disinfecting it before piercing the first point.

Beth could only watch, transfixed.

Sloane didn’t even lift her head as she worked. One needle, then another–swift, exact. She released pressure points, drew out the heat, and finally pressed her palm over his solar plexus to restore balance.

By the time she finished, Tony’s body was covered with fine silver needles–and his breathing had already begun to steady.

Beth exhaled shakily, relief softening her features. Seeing Sloane’s face glistening with sweat, she hurried to hand her a towel.

“Thank you.” Sloane wiped her brow. “He’ll need herbal treatment to stabilize his recovery, but the worst is over.”