The doctor who had just left Raymond, his mind still whirling from the revelations he’d heard, he had barely started a conversation with Raymond when a nurse came out of Olive ward, her voice was loud enough for anyone to hear“Doctor! It’s miss Olive—her condition has worsen!”His heart plummeted. Without thinking, he spun around and sprinted after the nurse, his white coat billowing behind him like a ghost. He burst into the ward just as a shrill, piercing alarm exploded from Olive’s monitor. The steady beep that had filled the room earlier was now a high-pitched flatline. Every second felt like an eternity.“Code Blue!” a nurse shouted, already pushing the crash cart toward Olive’s bed.“Clear the area! Move! Move!” the doctor ordered, snapping into action as his team swarmed around Olive’s fragile frame.Raymond stood outside the ward, his eyes glued to the scene through the narrow glass window of the half-glass door. His hands gripped his hair tightly, and he took a step back, sh
The surgeon had barely stepped out when the nurse came in, her face drawn and serious. She didn’t speak at first—just walked up quietly and placed the clipboard on the table in front of Raymond, the pen tucked neatly on top.“Mr. Raymond,” she said softly, “we need your signature to begin.”He stared at the form like it was a ticking bomb.His fingers moved, slow and stiff, as he picked up the pen. The paper blurred in front of his eyes. Words like emergency surgery, low survival rate, and informed consent danced across the page like ghosts. His eyes paused on her name—Olive Bennett.It felt wrong, so wrong, to see her name there like that. Like a patient. Like a case file. Not the woman who lit up a room with her laughter, who argued with him when they first met, not even like some one who made him feel whole even when he swore he was broken.He tightened his grip on the pen, his knuckles going white.But instead of signing, he slammed it down.The sound snapped through the room like
Raymond’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, too loud in the stillness. His mind felt fogged, clouded by the chaos of the operating room and the fear gnawing at him. He barely registered the click of his shoes as they hit the polished floor, each step a reminder that Olive was somewhere beyond his reach, fighting for her life.His hand found the wall, and he gripped it, trying to steady himself. The cool surface didn’t provide the comfort he was hoping for. It felt like nothing could.Behind him, the soft shuffle of another pair of footsteps made him pause. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Daniel, his assistant. He could feel the weight of the man’s presence, the tension hanging between them. When the footsteps stopped, Raymond didn’t need to look. He already knew what was coming.“Sir,” Daniel’s voice broke through the silence, soft but heavy with concern. “How’s miss Olive?”Raymond’s chest tightened. He wanted to say something—anything—to reassure him, to reassure h
Raymond straightened, his jaw tight with fury as he turned toward Daniel. His eyes, darkened with an emotion that was barely contained, bore into his assistant."Stay here, Daniel," Raymond ordered coldly, his voice like ice. "Keep the perimeter guarded. No one gets into her ward, take the deatails and sights of each medical personnel ."I don't want another mistake.Daniel didn’t question it. His expression betrayed nothing, but his instincts screamed at him to go with Raymond. He didn’t. Not this time. Raymond was a man on the edge, and Daniel knew better than anyone that this was the moment when even the calmest of men could break.“Understood, Sir,” Daniel replied, his voice tight, but he stood firm. He wasn’t going anywhere. Raymond was going to face this alone.Raymond’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, a silent acknowledgment before he turned on his heel, moving swiftly down the hall. There was a calculated coldness in his steps, a force of nature that could not be ignored.“
Not long after Raymond left the hospital for the dark room, Ethan was rushed in on a stretcher.“Make way! Gunshot victim!” one of the paramedics shouted as they pushed through the emergency entrance, the automatic doors flinging open with a hiss.The wheels of the stretcher rattled against the tiled floor as chaos erupted in the brightly lit ER.Ethan was barely conscious, his head tilted to the side as he mumbled something no one could hear.Blood soaked through the makeshift bandage wrapped around his leg—dark red and frightening.Ezra ran alongside the stretcher, gripping Ethan’s hand tightly. His other hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white.“Please!” Ezra begged, looking at the nurse closest to him. “Please make sure my brother’s okay. He’s losing too much blood. He’s—he’s all I have!”“We need trauma!” someone shouted. “Page Dr. Hawkins now! We need a clamp on that artery before we lose him!”A flurry of motion followed. One nurse took Ethan’s vitals. Another unwrapped t
Ezra sat stiffly in the hospital chair close to Ethan's bed, his fingers clutching Ethan’s hand like it was a lifeline. His brother’s palm was clammy, lifeless, but warm—thank God, still warm.The fluorescent light overhead buzzed, flickering once. The machines beside the bed beeped in a slow, steady rhythm.Ezra hated the sound.He leaned forward, eyes glued to Ethan’s pale face, searching for any flicker of movement, any twitch of his brow—anything that said I’m still here, bro.But Ethan didn’t move.His chest rose and fell shallowly under the white blanket. His leg was heavily bandaged, elevated—the blood loss had almost taken him on arrival. The nurse had told Ezra as much: “He’s stable, for now. But we’re watching him closely.”Ezra couldn’t stop the shaking in his knees. His brother—the one who always acted like he didn’t care, always played the fool just to lighten the mood—was lying there like a damn ghost. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real.And then, like a slow wave
Ezra had caught a glimpse of Daniel, so he approached him with the hope of finding Raymond.“Hello,” Ezra greeted, his voice steady but cautious.Daniel didn’t acknowledge him right away, keeping his attention firmly fixed on Olive’s door, like it was the only thing worth focusing on at that moment. His stance was rigid, almost like a soldier guarding an important post. Every muscle in his body seemed wound tight—a simmering tension that Ezra could almost feel from where he stood.Nurses were moving about hurriedly, attending to one patient or another. But none of them dared approach Daniel. They respected the silent authority he carried—one that demanded you either obey or keep your distance.Ezra shifted his weight, clearing his throat. "I’m Ezra," he said again, though there was still no reaction. "Ethan's brother."Daniel barely spared him a glance. His jaw tightened, eyes never wavering from the door. Ezra hesitated, unsure whether he should press on or let the silence stretch.“
"Don't look for my boss; this is not a warning, but the truth. With his state of mind right now, he might kill you, and he definitely does not care about the consequences,” Daniel coldly said.Ezra didn’t flinch. He didn’t acknowledge the threat, the coldness in Daniel’s voice, or the dangerous warning behind it. Instead, he simply kept walking, his footsteps echoing off the sterile hospital walls. He was numb, his mind a whirlwind of confusion, guilt, and frustration. His brain couldn’t even begin to process everything that had just happened, the gravity of what was unfolding around him.As he reached the parking lot, Ezra could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, a constant reminder of the mess he was now in. He opened the door to his car and slid inside, slamming it shut behind him with a soft thud. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he started the engine, the low hum of the car grounding him for a moment.He drove off, not knowing where he was go
The person that just came down was Frank.Ezra stood still, his hand resting lightly on the curtain. The streetlight outside wasn’t too bright, but it gave enough glow to make out the tall, dark figure leaning on the car. There was no mistaking that face. The jawline, the hair, the posture—it was undeniably Frank.Ezra’s brows tightened. “What the hell is this clown doing here?” he muttered under his breath.He just stared.Frank? After everything? After what happened at the warehouse? Ezra had pulled him out with his own hands. Dragged him out. And now he was here? Following?Ezra slowly released the curtain and stepped back from the window. He rubbed his forehead with both palms, exhaling quietly. The day had already been messy. Too messy. And now this?He wasn’t scared. Just... fed up. Tired.He turned away from the window, running a hand over his head. His muscles were tight, jaw clenched. He pushed his damp curls back, then rubbed the back of his neck as if that could ease the ti
"Don't look for my boss; this is not a warning, but the truth. With his state of mind right now, he might kill you, and he definitely does not care about the consequences,” Daniel coldly said.Ezra didn’t flinch. He didn’t acknowledge the threat, the coldness in Daniel’s voice, or the dangerous warning behind it. Instead, he simply kept walking, his footsteps echoing off the sterile hospital walls. He was numb, his mind a whirlwind of confusion, guilt, and frustration. His brain couldn’t even begin to process everything that had just happened, the gravity of what was unfolding around him.As he reached the parking lot, Ezra could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, a constant reminder of the mess he was now in. He opened the door to his car and slid inside, slamming it shut behind him with a soft thud. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he started the engine, the low hum of the car grounding him for a moment.He drove off, not knowing where he was go
Ezra had caught a glimpse of Daniel, so he approached him with the hope of finding Raymond.“Hello,” Ezra greeted, his voice steady but cautious.Daniel didn’t acknowledge him right away, keeping his attention firmly fixed on Olive’s door, like it was the only thing worth focusing on at that moment. His stance was rigid, almost like a soldier guarding an important post. Every muscle in his body seemed wound tight—a simmering tension that Ezra could almost feel from where he stood.Nurses were moving about hurriedly, attending to one patient or another. But none of them dared approach Daniel. They respected the silent authority he carried—one that demanded you either obey or keep your distance.Ezra shifted his weight, clearing his throat. "I’m Ezra," he said again, though there was still no reaction. "Ethan's brother."Daniel barely spared him a glance. His jaw tightened, eyes never wavering from the door. Ezra hesitated, unsure whether he should press on or let the silence stretch.“
Ezra sat stiffly in the hospital chair close to Ethan's bed, his fingers clutching Ethan’s hand like it was a lifeline. His brother’s palm was clammy, lifeless, but warm—thank God, still warm.The fluorescent light overhead buzzed, flickering once. The machines beside the bed beeped in a slow, steady rhythm.Ezra hated the sound.He leaned forward, eyes glued to Ethan’s pale face, searching for any flicker of movement, any twitch of his brow—anything that said I’m still here, bro.But Ethan didn’t move.His chest rose and fell shallowly under the white blanket. His leg was heavily bandaged, elevated—the blood loss had almost taken him on arrival. The nurse had told Ezra as much: “He’s stable, for now. But we’re watching him closely.”Ezra couldn’t stop the shaking in his knees. His brother—the one who always acted like he didn’t care, always played the fool just to lighten the mood—was lying there like a damn ghost. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real.And then, like a slow wave
Not long after Raymond left the hospital for the dark room, Ethan was rushed in on a stretcher.“Make way! Gunshot victim!” one of the paramedics shouted as they pushed through the emergency entrance, the automatic doors flinging open with a hiss.The wheels of the stretcher rattled against the tiled floor as chaos erupted in the brightly lit ER.Ethan was barely conscious, his head tilted to the side as he mumbled something no one could hear.Blood soaked through the makeshift bandage wrapped around his leg—dark red and frightening.Ezra ran alongside the stretcher, gripping Ethan’s hand tightly. His other hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white.“Please!” Ezra begged, looking at the nurse closest to him. “Please make sure my brother’s okay. He’s losing too much blood. He’s—he’s all I have!”“We need trauma!” someone shouted. “Page Dr. Hawkins now! We need a clamp on that artery before we lose him!”A flurry of motion followed. One nurse took Ethan’s vitals. Another unwrapped t
Raymond straightened, his jaw tight with fury as he turned toward Daniel. His eyes, darkened with an emotion that was barely contained, bore into his assistant."Stay here, Daniel," Raymond ordered coldly, his voice like ice. "Keep the perimeter guarded. No one gets into her ward, take the deatails and sights of each medical personnel ."I don't want another mistake.Daniel didn’t question it. His expression betrayed nothing, but his instincts screamed at him to go with Raymond. He didn’t. Not this time. Raymond was a man on the edge, and Daniel knew better than anyone that this was the moment when even the calmest of men could break.“Understood, Sir,” Daniel replied, his voice tight, but he stood firm. He wasn’t going anywhere. Raymond was going to face this alone.Raymond’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, a silent acknowledgment before he turned on his heel, moving swiftly down the hall. There was a calculated coldness in his steps, a force of nature that could not be ignored.“
Raymond’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, too loud in the stillness. His mind felt fogged, clouded by the chaos of the operating room and the fear gnawing at him. He barely registered the click of his shoes as they hit the polished floor, each step a reminder that Olive was somewhere beyond his reach, fighting for her life.His hand found the wall, and he gripped it, trying to steady himself. The cool surface didn’t provide the comfort he was hoping for. It felt like nothing could.Behind him, the soft shuffle of another pair of footsteps made him pause. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Daniel, his assistant. He could feel the weight of the man’s presence, the tension hanging between them. When the footsteps stopped, Raymond didn’t need to look. He already knew what was coming.“Sir,” Daniel’s voice broke through the silence, soft but heavy with concern. “How’s miss Olive?”Raymond’s chest tightened. He wanted to say something—anything—to reassure him, to reassure h
The surgeon had barely stepped out when the nurse came in, her face drawn and serious. She didn’t speak at first—just walked up quietly and placed the clipboard on the table in front of Raymond, the pen tucked neatly on top.“Mr. Raymond,” she said softly, “we need your signature to begin.”He stared at the form like it was a ticking bomb.His fingers moved, slow and stiff, as he picked up the pen. The paper blurred in front of his eyes. Words like emergency surgery, low survival rate, and informed consent danced across the page like ghosts. His eyes paused on her name—Olive Bennett.It felt wrong, so wrong, to see her name there like that. Like a patient. Like a case file. Not the woman who lit up a room with her laughter, who argued with him when they first met, not even like some one who made him feel whole even when he swore he was broken.He tightened his grip on the pen, his knuckles going white.But instead of signing, he slammed it down.The sound snapped through the room like
The doctor who had just left Raymond, his mind still whirling from the revelations he’d heard, he had barely started a conversation with Raymond when a nurse came out of Olive ward, her voice was loud enough for anyone to hear“Doctor! It’s miss Olive—her condition has worsen!”His heart plummeted. Without thinking, he spun around and sprinted after the nurse, his white coat billowing behind him like a ghost. He burst into the ward just as a shrill, piercing alarm exploded from Olive’s monitor. The steady beep that had filled the room earlier was now a high-pitched flatline. Every second felt like an eternity.“Code Blue!” a nurse shouted, already pushing the crash cart toward Olive’s bed.“Clear the area! Move! Move!” the doctor ordered, snapping into action as his team swarmed around Olive’s fragile frame.Raymond stood outside the ward, his eyes glued to the scene through the narrow glass window of the half-glass door. His hands gripped his hair tightly, and he took a step back, sh