Unveiling.

Fiona's POV

The drive to the Brooks residence which was situated in Chelsea, was a long one, probably an hour. The building was magnificent, likely the most impressive I'd ever seen. It had a sculpture in the middle with water pouring into it from a fountain. The statue was of Harry Brooks, Jordan's father.

The security guards stopped me from entering, asking for an invitation card or letter. "I'm sorry, I was sent by City Hospital to treat Mr. Brooks."

One lanky guard signaled to let me in.

I stepped into the building, my eyes feasting on the luxurious surroundings. As I moved further, a man approached me. "Come with me," he said, leading me into the living room.

"Wow!" I blurted out, taking in the opulent decor. I stared with a mixture of fury and surprise; they seemed to live well. An enormous artwork caught my attention, but my thoughts were interrupted when a lady in a black dress approached me.

"You must be Miss Campbell," she said, smiling brightly.

"Yes, I am," I responded quickly, showing my ID card. "I was assigned as the personal physician to Mr. Brooks."

She nodded and extended her hand. "Please follow me."

I obeyed, following closely behind her. We walked up a steep set of stairs, the golden railings reflecting my image, making me wonder how much this place cost.

We entered a closed room, and she locked the door behind us.

A man sat across from me with his legs crossed. In front of him were two pieces of paper, which he quickly slid over to me.

"I'm Lucas Kim, the legal adviser to Mr. Jordan Brooks. I'm glad to see you, but before you can meet Mr. Brooks, you'll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement."

I read through the document.

"That means," he continued, "whatever you see or hear in this house during the treatment of Mr. Brooks stays in this house. Any deviation from this will result in severe penalties."

So this was how the elite operated? I thought to myself as I picked up the pen he handed me and signed.

He quickly collected the paper, putting it into his briefcase. "Thank you. You may keep the other copy."

The woman led me out of the room and into another part of the house. She stopped at a door and knocked softly. "May I come in, sir?"

I was more nervous than when I took my medical exams.

This was my dream, meeting the man who destroyed my life face to face.

The door opened, and there he was, Jordan Brooks. Pale, weak, but still exuding an air of arrogance. He looked up, and our eyes met.

"Ah, Miss Campbell," he said, his voice weak but his tone still condescending. "I hope you're ready for me."

I smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "More than you know, Mr. Brooks."

As I walked into the room, I knew this was my chance. Every moment I spent here would be a step closer to my ultimate goal. I'll make sure he feels every bit of the pain he caused me, masked perfectly behind my professional facade.

*******

"Mr. Brooks, I'll administer some medication. You'll be fine," I concluded the session with a reassuring tone, gently removing the blood pressure cuff from his arm.

He smiled warmly. "You're one polite lady."

Every time I looked into his eyes, I saw the same fire that consumed my parents eighteen years ago. My hands trembled at the memory of that cold, fateful night.

"Miss Campbell? Miss Campbell?" The woman in black called repeatedly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Can you show me the way to the restroom?" I smiled again, picking up my purse and turning to Jordan. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Brooks."

He nodded, coughing lightly. "Jennifer, show her to the restroom," he said, putting on his glasses and picking up a newspaper.

I followed Jennifer as she led me down a narrow passage. "Go down those stairs. The restroom is on the left."

"I might get lost. What about those stairs?" I pointed to a larger staircase nearby, curiosity piqued. "Where do they lead?"

She hesitated, as if debating whether to answer.

"Don't worry, I'll find my way," I said, trying to stop her from following me. "I feel uncomfortable. Do you want to come into the restroom with me?"

"No, Miss Campbell, I'll just wait here."

I walked down the stairs, glancing over my shoulder to see if she was still there. When she disappeared, I swiftly took the other stairs, wondering why she hadn't replied. Were they hiding something valuable?

The lobby I found myself in was narrow and less grand, with only one door on its side. I walked to the door, turned the knob, and froze at the sight of a man dressed unmistakably as a servant.

Clutching my purse tightly, I moved closer and deliberately bumped into him. "I'm sorry," I murmured, bowing slightly before looking up into his eyes. He didn’t budge.

"Where are you going, ma'am?" he inquired, stepping back.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quickly.

He stared at me, confused. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm Fiona Campbell, Mr. Brooks' physician. I got lost on my way to the restroom. This house is so big, even a lion could lose its way," I said, attempting a light tone.

He eyed me for a moment, suspicion lingering. "It's the other way," he muttered and walked off.

I nodded and continued down the stairs, biting my nails furiously. Why was that room so secluded? Jordan Brooks was definitely hiding something, and I was determined to find out what it was.

*************************************

The sun dipped below the horizon as I entered the hotel room, no longer the usual Fiona.

I wore a crop top, bum shorts, and heels—a stark contrast to my typical attire. In reality, being Fiona was the disguise.

The hotel room was modest and functional, with beige walls and a queen-sized bed covered in crisp white linens. A small wooden desk with a flat-screen TV above it sat across from the bed. A single armchair in the corner and a floor lamp added a touch of coziness. The carpet was a worn dark gray, and heavy curtains framed a large window overlooking the city street. The compact bathroom had standard fixtures. Davis lounged on the bed, cigarette in hand, adding an air of disarray to the otherwise tidy space.

I tossed my glasses aside and sat next to him.

Davis wasn't a friend; we were kindred spirits, having grown up in the same orphanage.

I glared at him. "Can you stop smoking?"

"Care for some?" he offered.

"You know I hate smoking," I snapped, slapping the cigarette from his mouth.

He retrieved it, walked to the bin, and discarded it. "What do you want, Gabriella?"

I approached him. "Didn't I tell you not to call me that?"

He smirked. "What? Already used to Fiona? I heard Alexander is back. Mister told me."

"Yes," I replied, bouncing on the bed and lying flat. Davis climbed up, pulling me close.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I heard they are one awful family," he whispered, playing with my hair.

I pushed him away. "Go find someone else to bother."

He laughed. "You never change. What? Because you want to be the daughter-in-law of a rich family?"

"Who said I'll be marrying him? He's just the means to stay close to the family," I turned to him. "What about what I asked for?"

Davis walked to a shelf in the corner of the room. "There’s going to be a party, a closed one—just friends and family."

"So, he's the social type."

He opened a drawer. "Lora, one of those wealthy airheads..."

"Oh, the gullible one. So you're still draining her?"

Davis raised his hands in mock salute. "Until she's dry."

"Psycho."

"Lora gave me access to her email, and an invitation was sent. Interesting, right?"

"No way. You have access to her account?"

"She even gave me her bank password, satisfied with the sex."

I laughed, jumping off the bed. "So you'll be at the party as her boyfriend?"

"And you'll be at the party as Fiona Campbell, Jordan Brooks' physician."

"There was a room that stood out, the only one in a narrow lobby. I guess that's Jordan's room. I have to get in."

"Mister said no dangerous games. Just seduce Alexander."

I walked up to him, pulling him close. "What if there's something valuable in there? Wouldn't you go? I feel there's something important."

Davis sighed, pulling away. "If we're caught, everything we've planned is over."

I took a step closer. "Do you think I came this far to get caught? They live well, eat well, sleep well—they have everything, and look at us..."

Davis was easy to sway when money was involved.

"Fine," he conceded.

"Then tomorrow it is," I said, grabbing my glasses from the bed. "Bring that girlfriend of yours. It'll be fun."

As I left the room, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. "I'm coming for you, Alexander Brooks.