Chapter 8

• The air in the hospital was thick with tension, a silent war waged in the space between Damien Sinclair and me. His voice was calm, but his gaze held a quiet warning.
• “This man needs your help, Dr. Woods.”
• It wasn’t a request. It was an order.
• I clenched my jaw, my fingers curling at my sides. I hated being treated like a tool, like a pawn in some game I didn’t understand. But I wasn’t naïve—I knew I had no real choice.
• Still, if I was going to play this game, I would set my own terms.
• “Is he a friend of yours?” I asked, keeping my tone even.
• Damien didn’t answer, but his silence spoke volumes.
• That was all the confirmation I needed. The hospital served as a battlefield outpost, but the staff here were divided—some were loyal, some were spies, and some would sell out a dying man for the right price.
• And rhis was always seen with any hospital conedtes to the underworld If this patient mattered to Damien, it meant enemies were lurking nearby, waiting for an opportunity.
• If I stepped in, I would be taking on more than just a medical case.
• Damien seemed to sense my hesitation. He stepped closer, closing the space between us. His scent—clean, sharp, laced with something dark—invaded my senses. “You’re hesitating,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. His gaze pinned me in place, sharp as a scalpel. “Tell me, Dr. Woods… do you always overthink, or is it just when I’m involved?”
• My pulse kicked up. He was testing me, waiting to see if I’d crack under the weight of his presence.
• “As a token of gratitude, I’ll grant you one request,” he offered.
• I exhaled, my stomach tightening. A promise from a man like Damien Sinclair carried weight—like a loaded gun pressed against my back. It also carried consequences. I had seen what happened to those who crossed the wrong people in this city. Doctors who went missing. Investigations that never saw the light of day. If I agreed to this, I wasn’t just saving a patient—I was stepping into a battle field.
• I had no doubt that refusing wasn’t an option.
• “Fine,” I said, steadying my breath. “But I expect you to keep your word.”
• Without waiting for his response, I turned and pushed through the doors of the emergency room.
• Inside the ER The sharp beeping of the machines had faded into silence, the tension in the room easing only slightly. My hands remained steady as I withdrew the last needle, the electric current dissipating. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I saw the flicker of movement—his eyelids fluttering, a slow inhale filling his lungs.
• Then, Timothy Wade opened his eyes. For a moment, he just stared at me, his gaze unfocused, dazed from the brink of death. His face was pale, his body still weak, but there was life in his eyes.
• “He’s stable,” I announced, my voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing me down.
• The tension in the room broke. The doctors, who had doubted me just minutes ago, exhaled in relief. But one of them, the same one who had tried to block me earlier, immediately turned to Damien.
• “Mr. Sinclair, this woman is dangerous!”
• Damien barely glanced at him before flicking his wrist. A simple gesture, but enough for his men to move. The doctor didn’t even have time to protest before he was dragged out of the room.
• I clenched my teeth, irritation bubbling beneath my exhaustion.
• So that was it? Just like that, problems were erased in Damien Sinclair’s world?
• A small hand suddenly wrapped around my leg, trembling. I looked down, and there he was—Ethan, his big eyes red-rimmed, his bottom lip wobbling as he tried to be brave.
• “Serena,” he whispered, his voice fragile, like a thread on the verge of snapping. “You came back.”
• Something inside me cracked. Without thinking, I knelt and pulled him into my arms. His little fingers fisted in my coat, as if he were afraid I’d disappear again.
• “I’m here now,” I murmured, smoothing his curls. “How about we play a game?”
• Ethan sniffled but nodded eagerly. “Okay!”
• His arms tightened around my neck, a warm weight against me. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Damien watching us. His expression was unreadable, but something in his gaze softened as he followed us toward the resting area.
• I was too drained for coffee, so I settled for a glass of milk, grabbing two more for Ethan and Damien. Setting them down, I pushed one in front of Damien without thinking.
• “Mr. Sinclair,” I said, meeting his gaze, “are you here about my condition?”
• He lifted the glass, took a sip, and then nodded. “Tell me, what do you want?”
• I hesitated, gripping my own glass. “Is there a deadline for this… favor?”
• “You can ask for it anytime,” he answered smoothly.
• That should have reassured me, but I knew men like Damien didn’t give anything for free.
• “You didn’t just come for that, did you?”
• His silence stretched for a beat before he leaned back. “No. You’ll need to live with me.”
• I nearly choked. “What?”
• “To take care of the child.”
• I blinked, trying to process his words. “But that wasn’t in the contract. You know why i am in this town”
• “Which is why I made an additional one,” he replied, entirely unfazed. “You can review the terms.”
• Damien reached into his jacket and pulled out a crisp document. He didn’t slide it across the table—he handed it to me, watching as I reluctantly took it.
• My fingers trembled as I flipped through the pages. The legal jargon blurred before my eyes, but the message was clear:
• This wasn’t just a contract. It was a leash.
• “You planned this,” I murmured, my throat dry.
• “I prepare for all possibilities,” he corrected smoothly, lifting his glass to his lips. “It’s your decision, of course. But something tells me you already know your answer.”
• “Is something wrong with Ethan?” I asked, unease curling in my gut.
• Damien’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—too fast to catch. His fingers tapped lightly against his glass, a calculated rhythm, before he finally spoke.
• “You’ll understand soon enough.”
• At 1 a.m., unable to sleep, i went downstairs for a walk. I didn't expect to find Damien lying on the sofa.
• When i turned on the light, he opened his eyes and looked directly at me.