David stared at the picture on the nurse's phone, surprised. He saw a group of doctors walking out of the operating room while talking to each other. Although there were many people, he immediately saw that the focus of the photo was the two people in the center of the crowd. He thought that this was Dr. Morgan and...Emma. Dr. Morgan was just as he thought, a middle-aged woman, serious, calm, and very professional. As for Emma... Seeing Emma leaning close to Dr. Morgan, saying something with a smile on her face, David couldn’t help but frown. Emma seemed to be the same as before, always wanting to stand in the center to attract the attention of others. In such a serious occasion, how could she, an intern, walk in front of everyone and stand with Dr. Morgan? She was still laughing and not serious at all. Emma… again. Why does she keep showing up everywhere I turn? David thought. His mind was spinning as he looked back at the woman standing next to Emma. The middle-aged woman seemed
The moment their eyes met, Emma's expression flickered, betraying a storm of emotions—anger, betrayal, and a flash of something far more vulnerable, something that cut deeper than she wanted to admit. For that short moment, she looked exposed, like the walls she had built around herself had cracked. But then, just as quickly, she pulled herself together. Her face hardened, and she sat up straighter, looking calm and in control again. Remembering the photo of Dr. Morgan and Emma he'd just seen earlier, David quickly pieces all the information - it seemed that Emma was Dr. Morgan's student or assistant. Seeing Emma sitting on the chair with no intention of getting up, as if she was the owner of the chair, David sighed helplessly and said, “Emma, now is not the time to play role-playing games, can you please stand up and go find Dr. Morgan, I really have something important to talk to her about!” Realizing that David thought she probably dressed like this on purpose; he had alread
David stood frozen, his mind struggling to keep up. Emma. Emma Morgan. Now that he thought about it, It all made sense now—Morgan, Emma's late mother’s surname. Of course. And If there was anyone capable of helping Emma disappear completely and building her career, of creating a new identity so seamlessly that even the best private investigators he'd hired in the past had failed to track her, it had to be his grandfather. His influence, his resources—there was no doubt in David’s mind that his grandfather had orchestrated everything. Afterall, he was the same person who had used every means to make David sign the divorce papers, even to the point of threatening to disown him. And Emma? She had done more than just disappear. She had rebuilt herself from nothing, becoming someone remarkable…becoming Dr. Morgan. Yet, as David stood there, staring at her in stunned silence. A smirk spread across her lips as Emma tilted her head. "Why do you look so surprised, David? Shouldn’t you b
David stood frozen, his mind struggling to process Emma’s words. "I won’t be operating on Henry." The relief he had felt moments ago turned into something heavy and unbearable. He had expected anger, maybe even some resistance, but outright refusal? No. Not from Emma—not when she had admitted that Henry’s condition, though delicate, wasn’t impossible to treat. His chest tightened. He couldn’t understand. His voice came out uneven, disbelieving. "You— You’re refusing? Why?" She did hate Alison and David, and she did hope that they would not have an easy life, but Henry was innocent. How could she tell them that the probability of Henry surviving and recovering was very low? How could she say such cruel words? "I don’t owe you an explanation, David," she said. "I have the right to refuse any case, and I’m exercising that right now." David’s breath hitched. "The right to refuse?" He let out a dry, humorless laugh, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "You mean to tell me that after eve
Emma sat at her desk long after David had stormed out, her fingers still curled into the armrests of her chair. “I refuse to believe you'll just sit there and watch Henry die, Emma. Hell, This is not the Emma I know! When did you become like this?” David’s words echoed in her head, and she hated how much they affected her. She wasn’t heartless. She wasn’t cruel…but why did she feel so unsettled? Her jaw tightened as she suddenly felt angry. She had done nothing wrong. Henry’s condition was complex, and her decision was based on medical reasoning. She wasn’t obligated to explain herself to David. And yet… Why was she feeling bothered? She had believed she had moved on. That the past no longer held power over her. But in just a few minutes, with only a handful of words, David had unsettled her in ways she never expected. Had she really made the right decision? The thought disturbed her. By the time she left the hospital that evening, a deep frown had settled on her face. She
In the middle of the night, Emma's phone rang sharply, jolting her awake. She reached for the phone, blinking against the darkness. "Dr. Morgan speaking," she answered, voice hoarse from sleep. "Dr. Morgan, this is Dr. Allen from New York City Hospital. I’m sorry for the late call, but—" The voice on the other end was tense, rushed. "It’s about Henry Lawson." Emma sat up, fully awake now. Her fingers tightened around the phone as she heard his name. Henry… He continued. "His condition suddenly worsened. We’re doing everything we can, but he’s not responding as expected. We need a second opinion, and we were hoping—" Dr. Allen hesitated. "If you would be willing to consult on this." Emma was silent, not knowing what to say at this point. After a brief moment, she responded. “I'll think about it,” and hung up. She closed her eyes, feeling conflicted. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t get involved. That this wasn’t her fight. That she had already made her decision. But
The next day, Emma called Christian and invited him over for dinner. She wanted to talk to him about something important, and she felt she needed to see him in person. By evening, Emma busied herself in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal. Cooking had always been therapeutic for her, a way to ground herself when her thoughts became overwhelming. Tonight, she needed that sense of normalcy. As she placed the dishes on the counter, a soft knock echoed through the apartment. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Christian stood there, his familiar, easygoing smile on his face, dressed in a dark sweater and jeans. His presence was a welcome comfort, but as his gaze swept over her face, his smile faded, and a more serious expression settled in its place. "You look like you’ve made a big decision," he observed, stepping inside and glancing around. Emma gave a small nod, closing the door behind him. "I have." Christian walked into the dinin
The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Allison sat beside Henry’s hospital bed, her fingers gently wrapped around his small, fragile hand. His skin was cold—too cold. Every shallow breath he took sent a shiver of fear down her spine. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, that Henry would wake up and smile at her again. But fear clawed at her chest, whispering dark thoughts she couldn't ignore as she watched her weak and pale son lying helpless on the hospital bed. What if he didn’t make it? What if she lost him? And—though she hated herself for even thinking it—but what if losing Henry meant losing everything else? For years, the world had seen her as Mrs. Lawson. Even though David had never married her, she had been the mother of his son, the woman always by his side at events, the one reporters called his partner. That alone had secured her place by his side, made her important, made her somebody. But without Henry, what
One week later…“Sweetheart, try to eat a little more,” Emma urged softly.Claire lazily pushed the food around her plate, barely nibbling on her toast. “But I’m already satisfied.”Emma brushed a strand of hair from her face, her voice gentle. “I know, honey. Just a few more bites for me, okay?”Claire sighed but nodded, slowly picking up her fork and chewing a few more peas.Just then, a knock came at the front door.Claire’s eyes brightened instantly. “Is it Uncle Chris?” she squealed.Emma raised an eyebrow, surprised at how fast her daughter’s mood changed. Sure enough, Christian stood there, dressed casually but holding a small paper bag, a soft smile spreading across his face.“Hey,” he said as soon as the door opened. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”Claire waved from the dining table. “Uncle Chris!” she chirped.Christian walked in and placed the paper bag on the table. “I brought some fruit candies for you, Captain.” He looked over at Claire's plate, noticing she hadn't fin
Allison lay on her bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The ticking sound from the clock was the only noise in the quiet room, and it felt like it was making her more nervous with each tick. Her mind kept thinking about the same scary thought again and again.Would Christian really send that DNA report to David?She squeezed her eyes shut, her chest tight with panic. Christian's voice from the previous day still echoed in her head, cold and sharp: "Twenty-four hours, Allison.”But the hours were slipping away too fast. She had given it a thought to just apologize and get it over with, but the fear of humiliation had held her back.Now, her nerves were on the verge of snapping.Finally, Allison forced herself out of bed. She washed her face, dressed up, and made her way to the hospital. She felt so exhausted after she got home from the hospital last night and now, she was heading back there.The moment she stepped out of the elevator and turned the corner toward Henry's room, sh
Allison smiled, thinking that her manipulation had worked on Christian. The moment she saw the falter in his steps, she knew the hook had sunk in deep. Gathering her courage, she stepped closer, her voice sweet and calm."Listen, maybe we could cooperate," she suggested, her lips curling into an almost innocent smile. "We both want something, Christian. You want Emma, and I want David. Why don’t we help each other? That way, it’s a win-win for both of us."She paused for a moment, waiting to see any sign of agreement from him. When he didn’t respond, she leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice to a soft, tempting tone."I even have a way of helping you. A way to ensure Emma completely belongs to you."Allison felt pleased with herself, thinking the game was already in her hands. Christian had always been sharp, but even the sharpest men fell for the right kind of persuasion — and she thought she had found the perfect bait.But in the next second, her confidence shattered.Chris
Allison stormed back and forth across the hospital room angrily. The more she thought about it, the more furious she became. Her mind replayed David’s voice over and over — the way he’d spoken to her, like she was the villain in all of this.“How dare he?” she hissed under her breath. “After everything I’ve done for him! After everything I’ve given up to be with him! He thinks he can threaten me — scare me into apologizing to Emma? To that woman and her brat?”Isabel sat quietly on the chair as she watched her daughter paced around in anger.“Allison…” Isabel finally spoke. “Trust me, it wouldn’t hurt to just —”But before Isabel could even finish talking, Allison cut her off. “Apologize?” she asked. “You too, Mom? So now you’re siding with them? When I need you the most, when I need my own mother to stand by me — you’re here telling me to apologize?”Isabel opened her mouth to speak, but the words faltered under the weight of her daughter’s bitter glare.“I don’t need your advice i
Isabel nodded slowly. “You heard me. First, he gave Claire 5% of the company shares, and now he’s planning to hand over the manor too. Can't you see the handwriting on the wall?”Allison’s throat tightened. Her hands curled into fists on her lap. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. How could this be happening? How could Emma, after all these years, still manage to take everything away from her? And now her daughter too was being pushed right into the place Allison had tried to hold onto for herself and for Henry.It wasn’t fair. None of it was.The jealousy twisted painfully inside her. "Emma always takes everything," Allison muttered bitterly. "She always does.”Isabel’s gaze lingered on her daughter, as if she were staring at a reflection of her own past. She could see it all written across Allison’s face — the sharp glint of hatred, and that silent burn of anger… Isabel knew that feeling all too well.When she married Mathew, stepping into the life Emma’s mother had lef
Allison was busy going through her phone in the hospital ward, trying to kill the boredom surrounding her, when she suddenly heard the door open. She looked up, and her eyes met her mother’s. Isabel stepped inside with her usual calm expression, closing the door gently behind her.For a second, neither of them spoke. Isabel walked over and placed her handbag on the chair before sitting down beside her daughter.“Mother,” Allison greeted, putting her phone aside and straightening up a little.Isabel returned her greeting with a soft nod, her sharp eyes scanning her daughter’s face, as though trying to read her emotions. After a short silence, Isabel spoke first.“How’s Henry doing?” she asked in a quiet tone.Allison sighed, her face pulling into a tired frown. “The doctor said his heart was a bit weak from too much running around. That’s what made him collapse, but... they assured me he’s getting better.”Isabel gave a small nod, her fingers lightly tapping against the armrest. “That
Emma?David stepped onto the terrace, his eyes immediately drawn to a figure curled up in the corner.Emma sat there, her back against the wall, knees drawn to her chest, and her face buried in her arms. Her shoulders trembled with each silent sob. The sight of her like this tugged at David's heart.He approached slowly, careful not to startle her. Without saying a word, he sat down beside her, leaving a respectful distance. The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Emma didn’t lift her head right away. She stayed still for a long moment, her face hidden behind her arms, as the tears quietly soaked her sleeves. She could feel David’s presence sitting beside her without saying a word. He didn’t rush her or ask questions. He simply waited.Finally, after what felt like forever, Emma slowly raised her head. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, met his. There was no need for words between them. The moment their eyes locked, without a second thought, he reached out and
David stood by the door, watching quietly as Emma spoke in hushed tones with the doctor treating Claire.He couldn’t hear what was being said, but his eyes stayed fixed on the two of them—on Emma gently rubbing Claire’s back, brushing a few strands of hair from her daughter’s forehead, and then wrapping her in a soft hug. Claire clung to her for a moment before Emma leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.There was something in the way Emma lingered for just a second longer—like she didn’t want to let go for a second.And then, she walked away through the opposite side of the hospital room.David remained where he was, unsure for a moment whether to stay or leave. But something in his chest tugged him forward. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was concern. Maybe it was something he didn’t even want to name.He slowly stepped into the room.Claire was sitting up on the hospital bed, her small fingers toying with the edge of the blanket covering her. She looked up when she heard his footst
David stepped out of Henry’s room, the door clicking softly shut behind him. His hands were stuffed deep into his pockets, his brows knit tightly in thought. He hadn’t even taken more than a few steps before he spotted Emma walking briskly down the hallway toward him, her posture rigid, her expression unreadable. He paused when he saw her. Emma's father had been the one to call him and had told him about the sudden collapse, about how Emma had performed CPR on Henry, and how it was thanks to her that Henry was still alive at all.But Mathew hadn’t told him everything.He hadn’t told him how Allison had managed to pin the blame on Claire and accused the little girl of being responsible.The mere idea felt absurd. Claire? The gentle, sweet, innocent child he'd met? No. That couldn’t be.As Emma neared him, she showed no sign of stopping. She looked straight ahead as if he wasn’t even there. David saw the slight tension in her jaw, the determination in her eyes. She was angry…rightful