I hadn’t expected him to walk into my office looking like he owned the world—then again, I should’ve. After all, James Hawke was a billionaire tech mogul. If there was anyone who was used to having the world at his feet, it was him.
“Dr. Matthews?” His voice was smooth, confident, with just a hint of arrogance that seemed to hang in the air, like a perfume I wasn’t sure I wanted to breathe in. I stood up from my desk, offering my hand in a professional greeting, but I could tell from the moment his sharp eyes landed on me that he wasn’t interested in pleasantries. He looked at me with a mix of curiosity and annoyance—as though he had already made up his mind about me, despite knowing nothing about who I was or what I did. “Mr. Hawke,” I said, keeping my tone steady and neutral. “I’m Dr. Olivia Matthews. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He shook my hand, his grip firm but not overpowering, and his eyes locked onto mine. There was an intensity to his gaze, but I’d learned long ago not to be intimidated by people like him. Men who thought their wealth and status gave them power over everyone they met. “I hope you can fix me, Dr. Matthews,” he said, sitting down without waiting for an invitation. “I’m not exactly in the habit of letting my health slow me down.” I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms as I leaned back against the desk. "Mr. Hawke, I’ll do my best to help you. But I’d appreciate it if you understood that a heart condition isn’t something that can be fixed with the same speed you’d expect from your tech company. It requires patience, care, and commitment." His lips twitched into what I could only describe as a smirk, as though my words were nothing more than a challenge for him to overcome. “Patience. Care. Commitment,” he repeated, as though savoring the sound of the words. “That sounds... nice. But I’m more about efficiency, results. I don’t have time to play the waiting game, Dr. Matthews.” I held his gaze, unflinching. I had no room for ego in my practice, especially not when lives were on the line. “The heart doesn’t work on your timetable, Mr. Hawke. If you want to survive this, you’ll need to listen to my recommendations and follow through. I won’t sugarcoat the truth for you.” He leaned back in the chair, his fingers tapping against the armrests, a small frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, what are you telling me? That I need to slow down, take a step back, and become some kind of patient little lamb? Because that’s not me, Dr. Matthews. I built my empire by staying ahead of the curve. I don’t have time to lay back and wait for a miracle.” “I’m not asking you to lay back, Mr. Hawke. I’m asking you to trust me with your treatment plan,” I said, keeping my tone even but firm. “You can’t continue living your life as if your heart is invincible. It’s fragile. And right now, it’s on the verge of breaking down if you don’t take it seriously.” There was a pause as James’s expression shifted. I could see his mind working, calculating, assessing. I didn’t doubt that in his world, he was always the one calling the shots. But in this room, in this moment, I was the one in control. He may have built a tech empire, but I held the knowledge that could either save or take away his life. “I’m not someone who’s used to being told what to do,” James finally said, his voice cool. “I’m used to making the decisions.” “I’m not here to make decisions for you, Mr. Hawke. I’m here to give you the facts, and it’s up to you to act on them,” I said, my patience starting to wear thin. “If you choose to ignore the severity of your condition, you’ll be playing a dangerous game. But if you want my help, then you need to accept the reality of the situation.” I could see his jaw tighten as he stared at me, as though trying to gauge how much of what I was saying was bluff and how much was real. I could sense the tension in the room, the undeniable clash of two people with very different views on the world. James Hawke was used to being in charge. He didn’t want to admit that his health was something beyond his control, something that couldn’t be solved with money or influence. “I didn’t come here for a lecture, Dr. Matthews,” he said, his voice still calm but laced with a quiet irritation. “I came here because I was told you were the best cardiologist in the city. And I don’t have time for someone who can’t keep up with me.” I didn’t flinch at his words. In fact, they only made me more resolute. I had heard it all before—people like him, people with too much power, too much money, who thought they could buy their way out of anything. But health was different. It wasn’t something you could control with a checkbook. “You may be the best at what you do, Mr. Hawke, but this is not your realm. Here, we rely on science, not arrogance,” I replied, my voice steady, each word carefully chosen. “You’re right about one thing: you don’t have time to waste. So if you’re serious about getting better, then I suggest you listen carefully to what I have to say.” There was another long silence between us as he considered my words. I could tell he wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not in the way I had challenged him. But I wasn’t about to back down. Finally, he spoke again, his tone softer but still carrying an edge of defiance. “What’s the plan, then? What do I need to do?” I was momentarily caught off guard by the change in his demeanor. The arrogance was still there, but there was a flicker of vulnerability behind his words—a recognition that he was, in fact, human, after all. I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to save face or if he was truly beginning to realize the gravity of the situation, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. “First, I’ll need to conduct a full assessment of your health, Mr. Hawke,” I said, laying out the next steps of his treatment plan. “We’ll need to run a series of tests, including an ECG, an echocardiogram, and a stress test. After that, I’ll determine whether you need surgery or a more conservative treatment approach.” James nodded, but I could still see the skepticism in his eyes. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of slowing down or letting someone else take charge of his life. But he had no other choice. If he wanted to live, he had to face the reality of his condition. No amount of wealth or power could change that. “Fine,” he said, standing up and adjusting his jacket. “I’ll do the tests. But don’t expect me to sit back and wait around for some magic cure. I’m not that kind of guy.” I stood as well, holding my ground. “I never said it would be easy, Mr. Hawke. But I do promise you this: I’ll do everything in my power to help you recover. But you need to be willing to work with me, not against me.” He gave a curt nod, then turned to leave, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. As he disappeared through the door, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. The tension had been palpable, but it hadn’t been unexpected. People like James—men who had achieved everything they set out to do—often had the hardest time relinquishing control, especially when it came to something as unpredictable as their health. But I wasn’t here to coddle him or make him feel comfortable. I was here to save his life. If he could learn to trust me, maybe we could get through this together. If not... well, then I’d have to let his choices play out, no matter how difficult that might be. Either way, I wasn’t going to let him walk away from this with anything less than the truth. That, at least, was something I could offer.The room felt quieter after James left my office. It was a silence that spoke volumes—an unsettling quiet that always followed after a confrontation. But this wasn’t the first time I’d clashed with a patient who thought they could outrun their own body. It wasn’t the first time I had to put someone like James Hawke in their place, reminding them that they weren’t invincible.The truth is, I’d seen it all before: successful people who thought their wealth or power could shield them from the one thing they couldn’t control—illness. They acted as though they were above the rules of nature, above the frailty that comes with being human. But it didn’t matter how much money or influence they had. When the body broke down, it broke down.James didn’t realize it yet, but that’s exactly what was happening to him.I stared at the reports on my desk, the results of his initial screenings and blood work. His heart was weaker than it should have been for a man his age—already showing signs of arrh
I’ve always believed that being a doctor is more than just a career—it’s a calling, a responsibility that consumes you in ways most people don’t understand. It’s not just the long hours or the late nights. It’s the emotional toll, the way you pour yourself into others without expecting anything in return. The patients are what matter, not you. And that’s how I’ve lived my life—always putting others first, always keeping my emotions at bay.But sometimes, the walls we build around ourselves are made of more than just logic and duty. They’re shaped by past experiences—hurt, loss, and the things we wish we could forget but can never quite escape.I’d never been one for personal relationships. I’d always told myself that love, affection, and connection were distractions, things I didn’t need, things that would only get in the way of what I truly cared about. My career. Saving lives. Fixing broken hearts, both literally and figuratively. There was no room for anything else. No room for lov
I’ve always believed that medicine was more than just a profession. It’s a calling—a responsibility to those who trust us with their lives. But somewhere along the way, I realized that my own life had become a series of calculated decisions, each one made with the singular purpose of mastering my craft. I’d trained for this. I’d sacrificed for this. There was no room for anything else—no time for love, no space for relationships. My patients were my focus, my priority. Always.“Olivia, there you are.”I looked up from my notes, catching sight of Dr. Adrian Wu standing in the doorway of the cardiology break room. He had an easy smile, the kind that made most people feel like they had known him for years after just a few minutes of conversation. I supposed that was why his patients adored him—he had that rare gift of empathy, the kind that could put someone at ease even in the face of a life-threatening condition.“Good morning, Adrian,” I replied, my tone neutral, but polite. He was on
I’ve always believed that being a doctor is more than just a career—it’s a calling, a responsibility that consumes you in ways most people don’t understand. It’s not just the long hours or the late nights. It’s the emotional toll, the way you pour yourself into others without expecting anything in return. The patients are what matter, not you. And that’s how I’ve lived my life—always putting others first, always keeping my emotions at bay.But sometimes, the walls we build around ourselves are made of more than just logic and duty. They’re shaped by past experiences—hurt, loss, and the things we wish we could forget but can never quite escape.I’d never been one for personal relationships. I’d always told myself that love, affection, and connection were distractions, things I didn’t need, things that would only get in the way of what I truly cared about. My career. Saving lives. Fixing broken hearts, both literally and figuratively. There was no room for anything else. No room for lov
The room felt quieter after James left my office. It was a silence that spoke volumes—an unsettling quiet that always followed after a confrontation. But this wasn’t the first time I’d clashed with a patient who thought they could outrun their own body. It wasn’t the first time I had to put someone like James Hawke in their place, reminding them that they weren’t invincible.The truth is, I’d seen it all before: successful people who thought their wealth or power could shield them from the one thing they couldn’t control—illness. They acted as though they were above the rules of nature, above the frailty that comes with being human. But it didn’t matter how much money or influence they had. When the body broke down, it broke down.James didn’t realize it yet, but that’s exactly what was happening to him.I stared at the reports on my desk, the results of his initial screenings and blood work. His heart was weaker than it should have been for a man his age—already showing signs of arrh
I hadn’t expected him to walk into my office looking like he owned the world—then again, I should’ve. After all, James Hawke was a billionaire tech mogul. If there was anyone who was used to having the world at his feet, it was him.“Dr. Matthews?” His voice was smooth, confident, with just a hint of arrogance that seemed to hang in the air, like a perfume I wasn’t sure I wanted to breathe in.I stood up from my desk, offering my hand in a professional greeting, but I could tell from the moment his sharp eyes landed on me that he wasn’t interested in pleasantries. He looked at me with a mix of curiosity and annoyance—as though he had already made up his mind about me, despite knowing nothing about who I was or what I did.“Mr. Hawke,” I said, keeping my tone steady and neutral. “I’m Dr. Olivia Matthews. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”He shook my hand, his grip firm but not overpowering, and his eyes locked onto mine. There was an intensity to his gaze, but I’d learned long ago not to b
I’ve always believed that medicine was more than just a profession. It’s a calling—a responsibility to those who trust us with their lives. But somewhere along the way, I realized that my own life had become a series of calculated decisions, each one made with the singular purpose of mastering my craft. I’d trained for this. I’d sacrificed for this. There was no room for anything else—no time for love, no space for relationships. My patients were my focus, my priority. Always.“Olivia, there you are.”I looked up from my notes, catching sight of Dr. Adrian Wu standing in the doorway of the cardiology break room. He had an easy smile, the kind that made most people feel like they had known him for years after just a few minutes of conversation. I supposed that was why his patients adored him—he had that rare gift of empathy, the kind that could put someone at ease even in the face of a life-threatening condition.“Good morning, Adrian,” I replied, my tone neutral, but polite. He was on