Nathaniel “The surgery was a success,” I said gently, watching as the old woman’s eyes widened with relief. “He’ll recover well, but you’ll need to take care of him. Make sure he rests, follows the guidelines, and comes in for his check-ups.” For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Her lips trembled, her hands shaking as they clutched the edge of her shawl. Then tears spilled down her cheeks, and she stepped forward, her voice cracking. “Thank you, Doctor Nathaniel. Thank you so much! You’ve saved his life. I don’t… I don’t know how to repay you.” I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “No need to thank me,” I said softly. “It’s my duty to save lives. That’s all that matters.” She cried harder, and before I could stop her, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. For a second, I hesitated, unsure how to react, but I patted her back gently. When she finally let go, she stepped back, wiping her tears. I smiled, giving her a reassuring nod. “It's okay.
Aurora The conference hall was silent, save for the sound of my voice as it echoed through the room. Rows of doctors, nurses, and medical students sat before me, their eyes fixed on the screen behind me where I’d just pulled up the next slide. “Proper diagnosis is the backbone of medicine,” I said, gesturing toward the diagram. “If you fail at this stage, no matter how skilled you are, the entire treatment plan will crumble. This isn’t about intuition. It’s about precision. You don’t guess—you calculate.” Their eyes followed every movement, their pens scribbling furiously on notepads. But I could still hear the soft murmurs at the back, quiet but not too quiet for me not to hear. “She’s incredible,” someone whispered, their voice in awe. “We’re lucky to even be here listening to her.” “She’s not just good,” another added. “She’s brilliant. Have you seen the work she’s published? It’s leagues ahead of most people in the field.” “Yeah,” a quieter voice muttered, “but she’s al
Aurora “Are you running away from me, wife?” I froze, my entire body tensing as his words sank in. Slowly, I turned, my breath catching as I met his gaze. He was closer than I expected—much closer. His dark eyes held mine, he had a bored look on his face that sent a shiver down my spine. The heat of his presence wrapped around me, making it impossible to focus on anything else. “What… what did you just call me?” I managed to say, though my voice sounded much weaker than I’d hoped. “Wife,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a promise. “I’m not—” “Not yet,” he cut me off, stepping closer. His cologne filled the space between us, and I felt my knees threaten to buckle. I opened my mouth to speak, to argue, to say anything, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was stand there, staring at the infuriating, dangerously handsome man in front of me. And the worst part? I didn’t know if I wanted to push him away—or pull him closer. My eyes flicked d
Damien I kissed her. With all the pent-up frustration of the week. With all the tension that had been clawing at me since that night. No matter how much work I buried myself in, I couldn't get rid of her. Her scent had lingered on my bed….in my thoughts and eventually she was all I could ever think about. I couldn't get her out of my head. That night, the way she’d felt under me, her warmth, her softness—it was burned into my memory. She hadn’t just touched my bed; she’d marked it. It was as if she’d never left. And now, here she was. Her body on top of mine, her breath uneven as her chest rose and fell against me I wanted her in ways I had never wanted anyone before. I kissed her like she was the answer to everything. My hands moved to her waist, gripping her firmly, possessively, as though to remind her that she couldn’t escape me. Not now. Not ever. Not like the woman from years ago. Her lips were soft, hesitant at first, but as I deepened the kiss, she gasped
Aurora “I think we messed up… so badly.” I glanced at Felix, my six-year-old son, as we both stood side by side, staring at the painting in front of us. We had decided to paint today because Finn, Felix's twin brother, wanted to show me how well he could paint. It sounded innocent enough, and honestly, I thought it would be a fun way to spend the afternoon painting. We set everything up in the compound of the mansion—canvases, paints, brushes—and it turned into a full-blown family competition. Felix and I both decided to join Finn, each of us determined to out-paint the others. I mean, how hard could it be? I was older, wiser, and I liked to think I had some hidden artistic talent buried in me somewhere. No way could a six-year-old beat me. Or so I thought. I was so, so wrong. This wasn’t just some casual painting session. It had turned into a battlefield of creativity, and Finn… Finn wiped the floor with us. I stared at my own painting, it was a small, lopsided house that wa
Aurora The operating room was silent. The kind of silence that was heavy, where even the sound of someone breathing felt like it was too much. That’s how I liked it. Silence. Complete silence. Surgeons, nurses, assistants. All of them watching, waiting, ready to act at a moment’s notice. But no one dared to speak. They knew better than to disrupt me when I was operating. My eyes were focused entirely on the task in front of me. A beating heart lay exposed under the bright, sterile lights, its fragile rhythm holding on as I worked. Carefully, I moved my hands. There was no hesitation, or doubt. Every movement I made was deliberate, precise. One wrong move, and I’d lose him. Sweat beaded on my forehead, but I ignored it. “Doctor,” a voice said softly, and I glanced up for only a second as a nurse leaned in to dab the sweat from my brow. I nodded slightly in thanks, never taking my eyes off the exposed heart. The minutes ticked by, feeling like hours, and yet my hands never f
Aurora “Are you okay?” I didn’t fully understand what had just happened. My chest still felt tight, my breaths shaky, but my mind was racing with one thought: That was a memory. A memory of my past. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen it. It used to be a constant dream. That wasn’t surprising. The surprising part was that what had happened wasn’t a dream—it was a flashback. This was the first time something like this had happened to me. And that terrified me. I sighed, closing my eyes briefly as I tried to pull myself together. Something was wrong, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Deep down, I knew what it meant. Something inside me had shifted, and a part of me knew—I was going to remember everything soon. The idea filled me with both anticipation and dread. Did I even want to remember? I didn’t know whether to be happy about the possibility or scared of what I’d find. “Miss Aurora,” his voice came again, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I looked up at the brea
Aurora “Are you my daddy?” That voice? The world seemed to tilt for a moment. I turned my head sharply, my heart pounding as my gaze landed on the source of the voice. Finn stood just a few feet away, looking up at us with wide, innocent eyes. His hands were on his hips, his head tilted slightly as if he were genuinely curious about the answer. Beside him, Felix stood stiffly, his expression dark as his sharp gaze zeroed in on Alexander’s hand holding mine. And behind them stood my mother, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on her lips. I froze, my body stiffening as a wave of heat rose to my face. “Finn!” I said, my voice higher than I intended. “What are you—why would you—” “Mom?” Finn said, “He’s holding your hand. That’s what daddies do, right?” I shook my head immediately, as if I were desperately trying to prove a point to him. “No. Daddies don't do that. He is not your father. It's normal for grown-ups to hold hands.” He grinned, eyes sparkling
DamienWhat if Astrid, the woman who shattered my carefully built defenses for a single night, had never truly disappeared?I can’t help but scoff, what a stupid thought but the more I thought about it the more I found myself stumped.My men had done their research. Every report, every scrap of evidence pointed to the fact that she had burned to ashes in that accident. There wasn’t even a body left to bury. And yet, something didn’t sit right.For one, the case had been open and shut. A freak accident. They said a truck had collided with her car while she was distracted. The driver barely survived. Three days after being admitted to the hospital, he vanished. No one batted an eye. Who cared where a middle-aged man who could barely walk disappeared to? I sent Jason to find his family, but they had vanished too. Strange. I would have dug deeper if I cared.But I didn’t.I wasn’t grieving. I wasn’t haunted by loss. I was just… unsettled.Astrid had no right to do what she did to come int
Damien Spending my evening in a supermarket shopping for gifts and flowers wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured my life thirty years down the line. If someone had told me back then that I’d willingly buy a woman flowers, I’d have sent them straight to jail. Yet, there I was, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at a bouquet of roses. Trying my best to ignore Jason, who had apparently forgotten how to behave. He wasn’t shocked, just in awe, already composing the tales he’d spin for Sofia when we got home. But I was stumped. Aurora was a mystery, one I wanted to unravel piece by piece. Finding a flower she’d actually like was turning out to be more of a challenge than I’d expected. And after that heart-to-heart with my grandfather, it was becoming harder to deny that whatever I felt for her was real. Roses or Poises. Elegant or sweet. Doctor Aurora was as elegant as a rose—poised, breathtaking, impossible to ignore. But she had thrones, ones that I wasn’t sure she even knew. But I was so f
Aurora The cool, sterile air of the hospital brushed against my skin as I walked out of Nathaniel’s office. My mind was spinning. An ex-wife? That revelation sat heavy in my chest, creating more questions than answers. Why had no one ever mentioned it before? Why had he mentioned it to me? And why was my heart racing every time I thought about it? I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion. My steps echoed faintly in the hallway as I moved forward, but I couldn’t focus on where I was going. It felt like I was walking in circles. The feeling of always getting close to your goal and then being back at the beginning was frustrating. Whenever I was near the truth, something or someone always had to stop me from finding out. It was starting to annoy me. I could just stop all this trouble and ask my mother or my brothers, but I doubt they would be much help. They were hiding my past for a reason, and they wouldn't just tell me. Nathaniel asked me out for dinner, and the way he
Aurora “Doctor Aurora?” Nathaniel stared at me in surprise, his eyes carefully studying my face as if he was trying to see if I was really the one sitting in front of him. I met his gaze with no particular emotion. I planned for this. I played out so many different versions of how this meeting would go. How I would act. What I would say. What I would ask. But now? Now I was just… staring at this man. This man who felt familiar and yet a complete stranger all at once. Nathaniel’s eyes darted to my body, as if trying to make sure I was okay. Then, much to my surprise, he sighed heavily, leaning forward and placing his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Doctor Aurora,” I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden apology. “Sorry? Why are you apologizing?” He looked up at me, his expression open and honest. “It’s my fault. You came to my hospital, and you almost got hurt. You were dragged into something dangerous.” I tilted my head slightly. Was he serious? Did he actually mean it
Aurora I stared at him in disbelief. What just happened? Did he just catch the knife with his bare hands? Did he just save me from getting killed? At the moment when the knife was about to make contact with my body, I thought about a lot of things. A lot of people that meant so much to me—people I couldn't leave behind. But unexpectedly, he saved me. Nathaniel saved me from being killed. Blood dripped from his palm onto the floor, but he didn’t even flinch. Why? Why would Nathaniel do that? "Who the hell are you?" The man shouted, bringing me back to the present. Nathaniel straightened, his bloody hand still clutching the knife, and pushed me behind him. He stood tall, his presence commanding the room as he looked the man directly in the eyes. "I am Doctor Nathaniel. I don’t believe we’ve met, but I was the surgeon who performed your daughter’s operation." The man’s eyes widened, his face twisting with rage. "You bastard! You're the person that killed my Juliet." he shouted, y
Aurora I stared up at the massive hospital in front of me, The building was both inviting and intimidating. It was slightly larger than my brother’s hospital, which was not surprising, given its history. This place had been around for decades, building its reputation as not just a place of healing but also one of hope. Known for its work with patients who couldn’t afford treatment, it stood out in a world where healthcare was often ruled by greed. But, more than anything, this hospital was known for him. Dr. Nathaniel Davis. The surgeon everyone adored. The media’s golden boy. The man who seemed to embody perfection every time he appeared on TV or in interviews, his kind smile and composed personality made people swoon. A family man, a husband material and the perfect father. Trust me, I could say more, after all I had done my research. I ran a hand through my blonde hair, letting out a quiet sigh. We agreed to meet after that day and I was the one who set the time and th
X The photos spread out before me were like pieces of a puzzle I’d been working on for years. I picked up the one on top, running my thumb over her face. A stepping into the hospital, carrying herself with grace. Such a confident woman. But then, there was the other one. Her on the road, clutching her chest in panic. Vulnerable. Weak. A side of her the world rarely saw. I chuckled, the sound low and dark as it echoed in the empty room. Spinning lazily in my chair, I plucked another photo from the desk. This one was different—her holding her kids. That smile of hers, soft and full of love. How quaint. How perfectly motherly. But then there were the others. Damien, standing beside her. I scoffed, tossing that photo back onto the desk. Then there was Alexander, all charm and smiles, looking at her like she was the center of the goddamn universe. That one? I crumpled it, tossing it without a second thought. “Fools,” I muttered, shaking my head. “They don’t deserve her.” I leaned
Damien I stepped into my grandfather’s room, the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea filling the air. He sat beside the window, gazing out at the hospital grounds below. Patients and their families walked back and forth, some chatting, others lost in their thoughts. From this view, you could see it all—life continuing in its chaotic rhythm. "Don't you think that was too much?" my grandfather said without turning around. “You're too hard on the poor girl. She was waiting for you all this time.” I waved my hand dismissively, walking over to the chair next to him. “She waited for nothing,” I said indifferently, settling into the seat. He glanced at me briefly before setting his cup of tea down on the small table beside him. Without a word, I reached for the teapot and poured another cup, sliding it toward him. He nodded his thanks, and for a moment, the room was silent except for the faint clinking of porcelain and the muffled sounds from outside the window. I stared at the cup of tea
Damien The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, then began to close again when no one stepped inside. I leaned back against the wall, hands tucked into my pockets, watching the numbers tick down on the screen. Another stop. The doors opened, revealing a group of people standing outside, murmuring amongst themselves. But no one moved to enter. They avoided my gaze. Some shuffled awkwardly to the side, while others stared intently at their shoes, pretending not to notice me. They’d wait for the next one, just like everyone else. The elevator felt ten times colder, but it wasn’t the temperature—it was me. I clenched my jaw, my composure slipping as I ran a hand through my hair, attempting to calm the rage threatening to destroy everything in my path. The soft act I’d put on in her office—the restraint, the civility had shattered the moment I stepped out. I was back to who I truly was: cold, ruthless, and distant. But this time, there was something different. An