Chapter 5

• The bodyguard from earlier was back, his eyes burning with barely restrained fury. His entire body tensed like a coiled spring, veins bulging along his forehead. I could almost feel the moment he snapped—his rage rolling off him like a storm about to break.
• Within seconds, more men surrounded me, their movements sharp, their intent clear. Predators closing in on their prey.
• I stayed perfectly still. If they wanted to intimidate me, they were wasting their time.
• “Don’t do anything rash.”
• The voice cut through the tension like a blade.
• The men froze. Their postures shifted in an instant—heads bowing, shoulders stiffening, trained to obey without question.
• I turned toward the source of that voice.
• He stepped forward from the shadows of the cabin, dressed in nothing but a crisp black shirt, the top three buttons undone. The fabric shifted with his movements, revealing glimpses of defined muscle beneath. He was tall, lean, and built with the kind of effortless power that didn’t need to be flaunted.
• But it was his presence that struck me the hardest—cold, unshaken, utterly in control. The only thing that moved was the black bracelet on his wrist, a small detail that somehow made him even more enigmatic.
• His eyes, sharp and assessing, met mine.
• For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
• Then I broke the silence.
• “Are you the child’s father?”
• His expression didn’t change. “No.”
• I blinked. “Huh?”
• “He’s my nephew,” he clarified. His tone was smooth, controlled—dangerous in its quiet confidence. “Tell me about his condition.”
• There was no threat in his words, but I could tell he wasn’t the type of man who asked twice.
• Still, he hadn’t ordered me. He had asked.
• Something about that made my shoulders relax just slightly.
• I nodded, turning my attention back to the boy, who was now breathing normally.
• “It’s acute pharyngitis. Likely paired with a viral infection. You’ll need to take him to a hospital for a full check-up,” I explained. “Right now, he’s stable, but he needs rest. Also, don’t let him cry too much—it could make things worse.”
• Almost as if he had been waiting for permission, the boy opened his eyes.
• His small frame was still curled in discomfort, but he looked at me first, then turned his gaze to the man standing over us.
• There was no fear in the child’s eyes. Only trust.
• The man gave a single nod before returning his attention to me.
• “Thank you,” he said simply.
• I offered a small smile. “I’m a doctor. Saving lives is part of the job.”
• There was a beat of silence.
• Then, with a small movement of his hand, he signaled one of his men forward.
• A sleek black card was placed in front of me.
• “This is for your trouble,” the man said.
• His voice remained neutral, but there was an authority in it that made it clear—this wasn’t a gift. It was a command.
• I hesitated, glancing at the card. “…If you don’t mind me asking, how much is on it?”
• The bodyguard beside him answered smoothly, “Ten million.”
• I nearly choked.
• “How much?”
• The man frowned. “Is that too little?”
• I quickly shook my head. Too little?
• No, if anything, it was too much.
• “I only performed emergency treatment. I don’t need that much as a fee,” I explained, my voice firm. “I’m a legitimate doctor. I don’t accept—”
• “You misunderstood.”
• He cut me off effortlessly, his tone final.
• “I need you to take care of the child until the plane lands.”
• I exhaled slowly, realizing I’d been ready to argue about something that wasn’t even up for debate.
• And honestly, he had a point. The boy needed to be closely monitored to ensure his condition didn’t worsen mid-flight.
• Since the family was requesting it, I gave a small nod.
• “Alright.”
• The man studied me for a moment longer, then finally looked away, as if satisfied with my answer.
• I could feel the weight of his presence even after he turned.
• Something told me that this wasn’t
• I watched as the man signaled his bodyguards before walking away, his long strides carrying him toward some unknown destination. There wasn’t a single glance back at the child. No hesitation. No concern.
• Carefree. That was the only word that came to mind.
• I exhaled slowly, shaking my head. His business was none of mine. My responsibility was Ethan, and as long as he was under my care, I’d do my job.
• Settling into my seat, I kept a close eye on him. His breathing had evened out, and the tension in his small frame had eased. Relief washed over me. He was stable.
• The hum of the engines filled the cabin as I turned toward the window. Outside, thick clouds stretched endlessly, the golden hue of the sun painting the sky in soft streaks. A strange sense of fulfillment settled in my chest.
• Maybe when I first boarded this flight, I had felt lost, a little unmoored by everything I had left behind. But now, after saving a life—even a small one—I felt something I hadn’t in a long time.
• Purpose.
• Then—
• A rustling noise behind me.
• I stilled, my pulse quickening.
• The sound reminded me of the small hamster Caleb once begged to keep—quick, soft movements that seemed to stop the moment I paid attention.
• I turned my head slightly. Nothing.
• Then, a few seconds later, there it was again.
• Someone was testing me.
• I frowned, about to stand when something small tugged at the hem of my shirt.
• I looked down.
• A pair of wide, glistening eyes met mine.
• The little boy had somehow crept up beside me, his expression sweet, though his attempt at a smile was a little awkward, like he wasn’t quite used to it. His fair skin, long lashes, and cherubic features were enough to make my heart ache.
• Slowly, he pressed his warm cheek against my palm, as if seeking comfort.
• I softened.
• “What’s your name?” I asked, brushing my fingers through his silky hair.
• He tilted his head, his grip tightening around my hand. His voice, soft yet clear, carried a hint of trust.
• “Ethan Sinclair.”
• Sinclair. The same last name as—
• I didn’t let my expression change.
• “Well, Ethan, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Serena Woods.” I smiled. “I’m taking care of you today, so you can call me Dr. Woods or just Serena.”
• He blinked up at me before carefully trying out my name. “Serena.”
• I nodded, and he immediately lit up, dimples appearing on his cheeks.
• Damn. This kid was adorable.
• I took in the space around us—a section seemingly set up just for him, filled with plush seats and scattered toys.
• To keep him entertained while I observed his condition, I picked up one of the small figurines nearby, rolling it between my fingers. He watched, curiosity sparking in his eyes, before he eagerly grabbed his own toy and mimicked me.
• Before long, he was grinning at me like I was some kind of magician.
• “Serena, you’re amazing! Even better than Uncle Damien!”
• I paused, arching a brow. Uncle Damien?
• Whoever that was, I was guessing he wasn’t the cuddly, bedtime-story kind of uncle.
• I let it slide, keeping my tone gentle. “Since I won, that means you have to take your medicine, right?”
• Ethan pouted for all of two seconds before nodding seriously. “A promise is a promise
• Ethan was the type of child who kept his word, so he swallowed the medicine without hesitation. His trust was unwavering, and for some reason, that made my chest tighten.
• The plane began its descent.
• Before I knew it, a bodyguard appeared, his presence imposing but not hostile. Without a word, he moved to escort Ethan away.
• I hesitated.
• The past few hours had been an unexpected whirlwind, and though I knew I had no claim over the boy, a strange reluctance settled in my chest. But I smiled, keeping my emotions in check.
• “Take care, Ethan.”
• He turned to look at me, his small face unreadable, before he nodded and let himself be led away.
• And just like that, I thought it was over.
• I threw myself back into work, the chaos of the medical world a welcome distraction. My days were long, filled with back-to-back cases, research, and endless notes. If exhaustion crept in, I welcomed it—it left no room for unnecessary thoughts.
• But on the third day, as I left the hospital and made my way toward my dorm, something—or rather, someone—stopped me in my tracks.
• A man in a dark suit stood near the entrance, his posture stiff, eyes unreadable. A bodyguard. A familiar one.
• My pulse quickened.
• No way. I saved that child’s life, and now they’re going to make things difficult for me?
• I forced myself to remain calm, masking my nerves.
• When I approached, he dipped his head slightly, his voice polite, measured. “Ms. Woods, you’ve misunderstood. Mr. Sinclair wishes to see you. He hopes you’ll honor his request.”
• Sinclair.
• The name sent a cold shiver down my spine.
• I had spent enough time around power to recognize it when I heard it. This wasn’t just any request—it was a summons. And when men like him ‘requested’ something, refusal was rarely an option.
• Still, I tried.
• “I appreciate the offer, but I have early rounds tomorrow,” I said carefully, keeping my tone neutral.
• The bodyguard’s expression didn’t change. “Ms. Woods, please.”
• Not an order. But close.
• I exhaled slowly, my mind already running through possibilities. If this was about Ethan, if he was in trouble, I needed to know.
• “Is something wrong with Ethan?” I asked.
• For the first time, the bodyguard hesitated—just for a fraction of a second. Then, his jaw tightened. “Mr. Sinclair will explain.”
• That was answer enough.
• With a sinking feeling, I nodded. “Lead the way.”
• The ride was silent, tense. The city blurred past, giving way to sprawling estates and towering iron gates. It wasn’t long before we arrived at a mansion—a castle-like structure straight out of a dream, or perhaps a nightmare.
• Rockeries and fountains adorned the estate, chandeliers cast golden light across the marble floors. Every inch of the place screamed wealth, power.
• But I wasn’t in the mood to admire it.
• I was led through the grand halls, up the winding staircase, and toward a room on the second floor.
• The heavy doors swung open, and my breath caught in my throat.
• I froze.
• Because the moment my eyes landed on what was inside…
• Everything changed.