Chapter 2 There May Be Functional Irregularities Present

The consultation room dropped into a suffocating hush.

Aydan snapped his head around, fury blazing in his eyes as he fixed Ximena with a hard stare.

Ximena returned the look with steady composure, her gaze cool and clinical, as though silently prompting him to answer.

After an agonizing stretch of silence, Aydan forced out the strained words, "I haven't had any."

"Really?" Ximena's voice lifted just a notch, carrying a flicker of curiosity.

As she made notes in the chart, she continued, "Extended periods of abstinence or intense psychological pressure can sometimes trigger functional complications. That said, Mr. Dixon, judging from today's assessment, your physical condition is outstanding, so there's no cause for unnecessary concern."

Aydan was rendered mute.

Outstanding... physical... condition?

Did this woman have any idea what she was saying?

Ximena finally pulled her hand away, peeled off her gloves, and dropped them neatly into the disposal bin.

"Alright, Mr. Dixon, the examination is finished. You may get dressed now." She pivoted back to her desk, picked up her pen, and began filling out the file with brisk precision.

That cool professionalism stung Aydan far more than any outright insult could have.

He hopped off the examination bed and dressed with unprecedented speed.

Once his clothes were in place, Aydan slipped back into his usual detached facade, though the tight set of his jaw and the gloom in his eyes exposed just how wretched he felt.

He told himself this ridiculous ordeal was finally at an end.

All he needed was that cursed report to placate Hugh, and then he could wipe this entire day-and the very existence of a doctor named Hayes-from his mind.

But Ximena's next statement dragged him straight back into misery.

"Mr. Dixon, your preliminary physical evaluation is complete." She paused, and then added, "However, based on palpation results and your subtle physiological responses, I suggest checking your serum testosterone levels and conducting a nerve conduction test."

Aydan's brows knitted tightly, impatience flaring. "What exactly are you implying?"

"In simpler terms," Ximena answered evenly, "there may be functional irregularities present."

"No way." Aydan shot back almost on reflex.

He had always carried unshakable confidence, whether in the boardroom or... elsewhere.

A lack of interest in women did not equate to an inability to perform sexually.

Ximena appeared to expect his reaction and chose not to debate him.

Instead, she slid a blank test request across the desk. "In the end, results speak louder than assumptions. Mr. Dixon, do you place your faith in intuition, or in empirical evidence?"

Aydan locked eyes with her unnervingly calm face, searching for the slightest crack in her certainty.

There was none.

Her expression remained firm, impartial, and clinical.

Aydan suddenly remembered the intermittent back aches and persistent fatigue he had brushed off as overwork...

Was it possible something was actually wrong?

After a brief struggle with himself, he seized the form and left the consultation room without a word.

Outside, Colby took one look at his boss's grim expression and felt a chill crawl up his spine, yet he still stepped forward. "Mr. Dixon, how did it go? Did everything proceed smoothly?"

Aydan flicked him a frigid glance, offered no reply, and marched straight toward the laboratory.

Colby watched his rigid, purposeful figure disappear down the corridor, his pulse racing.

That did not look like the aftermath of good news.

The following hour dragged on longer than any Aydan had ever endured.

Blood was drawn, time crawled by in the waiting area, and eventually the report was handed to him.

When he returned to Ximena's office with the results, his entire presence radiated icy restraint.

The room was empty of other patients.

Ximena appeared to be expecting him; her desk was immaculate save for his file.

Aydan slammed the report down, the motion charged with barely contained rage.

Ximena picked it up and reviewed it with meticulous focus.

Seconds slipped past.

Aydan studied her relentlessly, alert to every minute shift in her expression.

At last, Ximena placed the report aside and met his gaze. "As anticipated, Mr. Dixon, the findings indicate mild neurogenic erectile dysfunction."

Neurogenic... erectile dysfunction?

Despite bracing himself for bad news, the official diagnosis left Aydan's thoughts ringing hollow.

"The underlying factors are multifaceted-likely prolonged stress and excessive workload disrupting the neural pathways responsible for erectile function. The good news is that it's been identified early and remains mild, meaning it can be completely resolved through structured medication and physiotherapy."

With a grave look, Aydan asked hoarsely, "What's the treatment plan?"

"I'll prepare a comprehensive diagnostic summary along with a tailored treatment regimen." Ximena spoke while typing, the printer soon humming to life. "Dr. Barnes will supervise your follow-up care personally. He's a leading specialist in this area, so you can be confident in the outcome."