In the hospital entrance, the staff had gathered, buzzing with anticipation and excitement. They were all there to welcome Eamon Rodge, the enigmatic philanthropist whose donations had significantly improved the hospital's facilities.
Unbeknownst to them, Eamon and his secretary had already entered the hospital through a side entrance, avoiding the fanfare.
As they walked through the quiet corridors, Eamon's secretary, a tall, efficient man named Harris, spoke in low tones.
"The 12-year-old girl of the Blackwood's family with a hole in her heart is in critical condition," Harris said, glancing at the notes on his clipboard. "The heart in our possession totally matches. If the transplant is successful, it could save her life."
Eamon nodded, his expression serious. "It would definitely be successful. The Blackwoods must be indebted to us and this procedure must go flawlessly."
Harris continued, "Our team is ready, and the necessary plans have been put in place. We're just waiting on their first move before proceeding."
Suddenly, Eamon stopped in his tracks, right in front of ward 203. He inhaled sharply, his head turning slightly as if he were catching a scent in the air.
"What's wrong, Boss?" Harris asked, noticing his employer's sudden stillness.
Eamon's face, usually so composed, showed a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps even emotion. "I can smell her scent," he murmured, almost to himself. "Heather."
Harris looked around, confused. "Ms Heather? The same Ms Heather from last night? The one who came to your house?"
Eamon shot a glare at him, his brow furrowing. "Are there any others you know?"
Without another word, Eamon turned and began walking towards the nearby corridor with a sense of urgency. Harris followed, perplexed but accustomed to Eamon's unusual intuition.
Eamon's steps were purposeful as he moved through the hospital, guided by some invisible thread. The familiar scent, a delicate mix of fear and determination, grew stronger. He was close.
As they approached the area near the changing rooms and back exit, Eamon stopped again, his expression unreadable behind his dark lenses.
"She was here recently," he said, his voice firm. "Find out where she went."
Harris nodded, immediately stepping away to make inquiries with the hospital staff. Eamon stood still, a mixture of concern and curiosity tugging at his thoughts.
Heather had run from him early that morning, and now she was here, in the very place he had not expected to find her.
He knew he had to find her before she could slip away again. This was not a coincidence; their paths crossing again meant something, and he needed to understand what.
As Heather moved quickly towards the back hidden exit of the hospital, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Just as she turned a corner, she nearly collided with Eamon.
Startled, she took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What do you want from me, Mr. Eamon?" Heather demanded, her voice steady despite the fear coursing through her veins.
Eamon regarded her with an almost amused expression. "What are you doing here?" he countered.
"That doesn't answer my question," Heather shot back, her eyes narrowing.
Eamon's demeanor darkened, his voice taking on a demonic edge. "What do you take me for, Heather Daniels?"
Heather swallowed hard, her courage faltering. "I... I..."
Eamon's gaze flicked to the name tag on her uniform, which read "Mia." He smirked, clearly aware of the deception. "Heather, do you think you can save your life from me in a hospital?" he teased.
"Well, if... if you're a disease," Heather retorted, trying to regain some semblance of control.
Eamon chuckled softly, a chilling sound. "Sure I am. A terminal one."
Heather took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "Anyway, Mr. Eamon, sorry for taking things the wrong way this morning. Perhaps you thought I was mocking your blindness by saying you changed me," she said sincerely.
"Oh?" Eamon's eyebrows arched in mild surprise.
"Sorry, again," Heather added, her voice softer now.
"It's alright," Eamon replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I saw everything though."
Heather blinked in confusion. "Huh? But... you're blind. How can you see everything like you claimed?"
Eamon's smile widened, and he leaned in slightly. "Let me tell you a secret then, Ms Heather," he said, removing his dark lenses to reveal a set of green eyes.
Heather's breath hitched as she saw what appeared to be living yellow cells moving within them. It was both mesmerizing and terrifying.
"You have a fading tattoo 'A & H' on your left waist and a tiny black dotty mole underneath your right breast," Eamon said, his voice low and intimate.
Heather's mind reeled, a mix of shock and disbelief rendering her speechless. "...."
Eamon's eyes bore into hers, a predatory glint in them. "You can't hide from me, Heather. Not in a hospital, not anywhere."
Heather felt a shiver run down her spine. She was caught in a dangerous game with a man who seemed to know everything about her.
The realization that Eamon had not only changed her dress, saw her bare - naked but had taken his time to study, getting detailed knowledge of her body made her feel exposed and vulnerable.
She took a step back, her mind racing. "What do you want from me?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
Eamon's smile softened, but his eyes remained cold and calculating.
"For now, just your cooperation," he said, his tone deceptively gentle. "There are things you need to understand, Heather. I own your life now, that was the deal. And don't you dare think of running away."
Heather nodded slowly, realizing that escaping Eamon's grasp would be far more difficult than she had ever imagined.
She needed to be smart, to find a way to navigate this perilous situation without losing herself in the process.
"See you whenever we meet again, Ms Heather," Eamon said hallowedly, stepping aside, allowing her a clear path to the exit.
Heather swallowed hard, her throat dry and her mind racing. She was shaken to the core. He even knew she was planning to run away.
She struggled to maintain her composure, forcing herself to remain silent as she turned and began to walk away.
Each step felt heavy, her movements robotic as she counted her steps in an attempt to calm herself. One, two, three...
The corridor seemed endless, and with every step, she felt Eamon's piercing gaze on her back. Her footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, each sound amplifying her anxiety.
Her steps had paled, her legs trembling slightly with the effort to keep moving. She could feel her hair standing on end, a primal reaction to the danger she sensed from Eamon.
The cold, clinical environment of the hospital seemed suddenly oppressive, the air thick with tension at that moment.
As she reached the end of the hallway, Heather dared a glance over her shoulder. Eamon stood there, still watching her with that unnerving intensity. He didn't move, but the smirk on his face sent another shiver down her spine.
Turning back, she quickened her pace, almost breaking into a run as she pushed through.
As Heather hurried out of the hospital vicinity, she remembered she had left her car at Mia's place.She hailed a cab, and as she settled into the back seat, her mind began to drift. Memories of Arthur, her brother, flooded back. She thought about why she had come to this city, leaving City M just a month ago.Her brother, Arthur, had been the one to insist she come here if he didn't return home within a week or two.Arthur had always been protective and forward-thinking. He had meticulously prepared everything for her in this new city: he bought her a car, signed the deeds of their fashion store in her name, and even arranged for a spacious house.Their fashion store had a branch here, which she hadn't visited yet, and there was a contact, Mr. Craig, whose number Arthur had given her.---"Heather, you have to promise me
Heather clenched her fists, feeling the weight of her helplessness. She pulled out her phone and dialed Arthur's number, a number she had been trying since a month ago. Yet she dialed it even though she knew it was futile.The call went straight to voicemail, and she left a message, her voice filled with emotion."Arthur, I don't know where you are, but I need you. They've taken everything. Please, if you can hear this, help me."She hung up, tears streaming down her face. Heather knew she had to be strong, to find a way to put an end to this charade. She really hated conflict and it made her weak. She was a peaceful, sweet person compared to Arthur who did all the violent work."Don't be a thief, Marcus. Mr. Craig, why did you hand over my hard work and sweat to him?" Heather demanded, her voice of mess.Marcus's smile widened. "Heather, there's no easy way to say th
"It wasn't yours to begin with," Marcus said coldly. "If you want it, you'll have to marry me."Heather's anger boiled over. She stepped out of the car, her voice trembling with fury. "I promise you, Marcus, I will have my revenge somehow."She tossed the keys at his feet and walked away, her heart heavy with a low charged determination.She hailed a cab and directed the driver to Camille's apartment. Camille, the sweet girl who had taken her in a month ago, had no idea of the turmoil Heather was facing.As she sat in the back of the cab, Heather vowed to find a way to reclaim what was rightfully hers and honor Arthur's memory. The fight wasn't over, and she wouldn't give up without a battle.Heather pushed open the door to her small, cozy apartment, stepping into the warm embrace of familiarity.The living room was decorated w
[R-16+ Ahead]Arriving at the insurance company, Heather took a deep breath before stepping inside. The office was bustling with activity, caring less she approached the reception desk, clutching the documents tightly."Good morning. How can I help you?" the receptionist asked with a polite smile."Good morning," Heather replied, trying to sound confident. "I need to speak with someone about these insurance policies. They're under the names Heather Daniels and Arthur Daniels."The receptionist nodded and directed her to a waiting area. Heather sat down, her nerves starting to settle. After a few minutes, an agent called her name and led her to a small office."Hello, Ms. Daniels. I'm Mr. Luke. How can I assist you today?" the agent asked as they settled into their chairs.Heather handed over the documents. "I need to understand wha
Harris handed Eamon a thick file as the car drove out from the insurance company and into the bustling city streets."Sir, I've gathered all the information about Ms. Heather. Everything is in this file," he said, his voice professional and composed. "Also, your mother called. She said you should come home today."Eamon took the file, his expression unreadable behind his dark glasses. "Thank you, Harris," he replied, flipping open the file and skimming through its contents. "I'll deal with this later."He glanced out the window, watching people going around with their daily lives, though his mind was occupied with no other than Heather. "Make sure our men are all over and watching her without her knowledge.""Yes, sir," Harris replied.Eamon leaned back in his seat, removing his glasses. His green eyes, with their mysterious, swirling patterns, scanned t
After the incident at the insurance company, Heather stepped out of Eamon's car, her heart racing and her cheeks still flushed from the encounter with Eamon.She hailed a cab and quickly slipped into the back seat, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts."Where to, miss?" the cab driver asked."Take me to 23 Francis Borough Street, please," she replied, giving him the address she shared with Camille.As the cab began to move, Heather couldn't help but replay her short, almost erotic moment with Eamon in her mind. She muttered words to herself, barely aware of what she was saying."Those eyes... God, those eyes," she whispered, staring out the window but seeing nothing. "How can someone have such intense eyes? It's like they see right through me."She shook her head, trying to clear the image of Eamon's piercing gaze from her thoughts which was abs
Immediately after entering the study, Heather kept her head down, the door behind her closing with a decisive thud.The sound echoed in the room, reinforcing the feeling that there was no escape. She was alone with the wealthy Adonis known as Eamon Rodge.Or perhaps it wasn't just her mindset—maybe Harris, who had closed the door, intended for her to feel that way.She took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Eamon's gaze.He was sitting behind an enormous mahogany desk, his piercing green eyes fixed on her. He removed his glasses slowly, placing them on the desk, and leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk playing on his lips."What brings you here, Ms. Heather?" Eamon asked, his voice smooth and calm.Heather swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly. "I need your help," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Heather stood in the vast study, her mind reeling with the implications of the deal she had just made with the Eamon Rodge.Just as she began to steady her breathing and calm her racing thoughts, the door opened again, and Harris entered, his footsteps echoing through the room.He carried a sleek black folder, its surface embossed with a subtle logo."Everything is ready, sir," Harris said, his voice efficient and detached, as he handed the folder to Eamon.Eamon nodded, taking the folder with an air of triumph, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light.Flipping through the documents with a satisfied smile, his gaze lingered on each page, savoring the victory. "Good. Ms. Heather, sign these, and our marriage will be official."That was quick!Heather thought as she took the pen, her hands trembling like