American Medicine: I survived the death knell thanks to the devil.

Chapter 83 Why Stay Tonight?

The Hellcat drove into the underground garage of the Park Avenue apartment building, the roar of its engine echoing between the concrete walls, finally coming to an abrupt halt with a sharp screech of brakes.

The entire journey was speechless.

Victoria pulled the car key out a little too hard, and the key ring hit the steering column with a crisp sound.

The two stepped into the retro-style elevator with its brass carvings.

In the cramped carriage, Lynn leaned against the armrest, her gaze sweeping over Victoria's profile.

Her carotid artery pulse rate was significantly higher than normal, indicating that her sympathetic nervous system was in a highly tense and excited state.

"bite"

The elevator doors had barely opened a crack when Victoria quickly stepped out.

She took out her keys and opened the door hastily, turning the lock three times in a row.

Upon entering, she didn't even bother to take off her high heels, heading straight for the living room and grabbing the heavy velvet curtains of the iconic pre-war carved arched window.

"Splash—"

—

The curtains were suddenly drawn shut, not even a sliver of Manhattan nightlight could see in.

After doing all this, she regained her breathing rhythm, her chest heaving violently, and turned to look at Lynn.

"Please sit wherever you like."

Her voice was a little hoarse.

Lynn took off her coat and sat down on the sofa.

He knew, of course, what she was afraid of, but he didn't intend to point it out immediately.

"Go change your clothes. Today we're filming a medical anatomy-based workout focusing on the core muscles and gluteus maximus."

Lynn took out her phone and opened the notes app.

Victoria nodded stiffly and went into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she came out.

She wore tight-fitting Lululemon yoga pants on the bottom and a sports bra on the top.

"Your account has passed the novice stage. Relying solely on medical fitness and body image displays will soon lead to a peak in conversion rates."

Lynn turned her phone screen around.

"On the internet, to generate sustained willingness among fans to pay, you need to offer an extreme contrast in emotional value."

"Simply put, we previously cultivated an image of a professional medical blogger; that's your divinity."

"What we need to do is, in front of the camera, maintain your professionalism and pride, but at the same time demonstrate absolute obedience to the director behind the camera, even when you're at your physical limits."

"Unlike the previous instructional videos, this time the focus is on you pushing yourself to exhaustion, sweating, and panting under my instructions."

Lynn emphasized "My Instructions," just as it differed from her previous fitness series.

"This sense of immorality—the feeling of pulling authority down from its pedestal and being completely controlled on a physical level—is the key to generating traffic."

Victoria paused for a moment, seemingly intrigued by the theory, and nodded: "Okay, I'll give it a try."

Lynn raised her phone and adjusted it to a slightly upward-looking angle that felt somewhat oppressive.

"Action."

First try.

Victoria picked up the dumbbells and started doing Bulgarian split squats.

The lower fibers of the gluteus maximus connect to the iliotibial tract.

Just as she opened her mouth, the central air conditioning vents suddenly emitted a slight "humming" sound.

Victoria's shoulders jerked, and the dumbbell in her hand nearly hit the instep.

"Card."

Lynn frowned. "Focus."

Second attempt.

"Keep going, squat down, feel the eccentric contraction of your hamstrings," Lynn gave a low command from behind the camera.

Victoria gritted her teeth and squatted down, but her breathing became completely erratic.

That wasn't the panting after exhaustion from exercise, but the panic caused by the loss of control of the sympathetic nervous system.

"Cut. Your gaze is too unfocused, start over."

The third attempt.

Victoria couldn't even perform the movements correctly anymore; she was simply too exhausted.

He could only stand there holding the dumbbells, his face pale, and his forehead covered in a fine layer of cold sweat. He looked like a bow stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any moment.

"Smack."

Lynn locked her phone and tossed it onto the coffee table.

The crisp sound was particularly jarring in the quiet living room, startling Victoria and making her tremble.

Lynn stood up and walked towards her step by step.

Having witnessed countless life-and-death situations in the underworld recently, Lynn has unknowingly acquired a bit of ferocity.

With the system slightly enhancing his physical strength and continuous fitness training, his shoulders seemed broader, and his muscle lines were faintly visible under his shirt.

As he approached with a stern face, the oppressive aura of a predator instantly enveloped Victoria.

Strangely, Victoria's deep-seated fear was suppressed when faced with such a dangerous Lynn.

Because of Lynn's powerful, even somewhat brutal, control, she felt a sense of security she had never experienced before.

It was as if the pervert hiding in the shadows outside the window seemed insignificant as long as this man stood in front of them.

"What exactly have you been doing today?" Lynn looked down at her.

"I—I'm not feeling well."

Victoria forced herself to take a half-step back, trying to maintain the composure of an attending physician.

"Dr. Vanderbilt, I'm here to make money; my time is very valuable."

"If you can't even control your emotions and maintain the most basic professional ethics, then our cooperation ends here."

After saying that, Lynn picked up her coat from the sofa, turned around and walked towards the door.

This statement precisely pierced Victoria's last psychological defenses.

Termination of cooperation?

On this terrifying night, being followed by a pervert, will she be left alone in this empty apartment?

"stop!"

Victoria turned around abruptly, her voice becoming somewhat shrill.

Lynn stopped walking, but did not turn around.

A series of hurried footsteps came from behind.

The next second, a cold, slightly trembling hand gripped Lynn's sleeve tightly.

Lynn turned her head away.

Victoria stood behind him, her exquisite and proud face filled with struggle.

She gripped Lynn's shirt fabric tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, but her tone was as hard as if she were giving a doctor's order.

"I won't let you leave."

She took a deep breath, trying to use self-interest to mask her weakness.

"You're my partner—if you stay tonight, I can give you all of this month's commission."

Name your price and help me solve a problem.

Lynn turned around and just looked at her.

Ten seconds later.

The Vanderbilt family's pride finally succumbed to the fear of reality.

Her family had fallen on hard times, and she no longer had the connections and resources to quietly handle such dirty business.

Calling the police would only ruin everything she's worked so hard to maintain.

The stubbornness in Victoria's eyes faded little by little, and her shoulders slumped down.

This was the first time in her life that she had taken the initiative to ask a man for help.

"Someone is following me—"

She frantically pulled her phone out of her pocket, pulled up the screenshot of the private message from last night, and handed it to Lynn.

"He knows where I live, he knocked on my window, he knows the security guard's schedule—I dare not call the police, if the hospital finds out—"

Victoria looked up, her grey-blue eyes filled with an unusual helplessness, and her voice softened, carrying a barely perceptible plea.

"Lynn—do you have any good ideas?"

Seeing her completely let her guard down and show vulnerability, Lynn suddenly said, "Why do you think I stayed tonight?"