Chapter 9 – Twist Of Fate

• Anna
• After a long silence, I finally opened my eyes—only to find the grinning doctor watching me. That charming smile and those glistening grayish eyes had me captivated for a moment. He really was… quite charming.
• “You okay?” he asked, pulling me back from my trance.
• I nodded quickly, flustered for having stared. “Yeah.”
• “What did you wish for?” he asked.
• “It’s a secret,” I said with a small smile. “What about you? What did you wish for?”
• “I didn’t,” Dr. Anderson replied.
• “Why not?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.
• “Because it doesn’t come true,” Dr. Anderson replied solemnly.
• “Traumatized,” I noted.
• “How do you know?” he sighed.
• “Can you be any more obvious?” I laughed.
• He shrugged.
• “So, what’s the story?” I asked, intrigued.
• “It’s a secret,” Dr. Anderson said with a small smile.
• “Copycat,” I whispered.
• He chuckled but then suddenly paused. “You know, this is the longest conversation we’ve had since we met.”
• “True,” I agreed. “I’m curious… do you come up here often?”
• “It’s my getaway spot. When I feel down, depressed, or overwhelmed, I come here to let it all out,” he confessed.
• Ah. So I really am intruding…
• “Did something happen today?” I asked gently.
• I was careful not to intrude.
• “I lost a patient,” he said, his voice heavy with grief. “She didn’t have much, but her fighting spirit was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. No one expected her to relapse.”
• I could feel the pain in his tone—raw and genuine.
• “Can I ask what kind of illness?” I hesitated, not wanting to pry, but it seemed like he needed to talk.
• “Brain tumor,” he replied quietly.
• Cancer never has mercy on anyone.
• “If you look on the bright side… at least she’s not suffering anymore. You said she didn’t have much financially, right?” I offered gently.
• “For someone who’s lived so long in the dark, you sure know how to find the light,” he said, glancing at me with a faint trace of a smile.
• “If you only ever focus on the dark,” I replied, “you’ll never be able to see the light in life. It’s something I learned the hard way.”
• When you live in the shadows for too long, it's hard to miss even the faintest glimmer of light.
• “Wise words from a wise woman,” he muttered.
• “You might as well have just called me old,” I tutted.
• “Can I?” he teased.
• “Wanna try?” I challenged, raising a fist in mock threat.
• He raised an eyebrow, leaned back, and chuckled.
• “You’re so easily triggered. Here I thought you didn’t get mad at anyone,” Dr. Anderson teased again.
• “I’m no saint—just immune to certain people,” I said proudly.
• “Excluding me,” he pointed to himself.
• I nodded. “For some reason, my anger decided it doesn’t like you.”
• “You’re funny,” he said.
• “Your face is funny,” I joked, and we both laughed.
• This was the most relaxed I’d felt in a long time. But that was all—it was just a moment. I wouldn’t dare be greedy, or it would come back to bite me.
• I had fun—but all good things eventually come to an end. A chilly breeze sent a shiver down my spine, and I used it as an excuse.
• “Take your time. I’m heading back,” I said, turning to leave.
• “Wait,” he called out. “Can we be friends?”
• I froze.
• “No… we can’t.” I smiled sadly. “I’ve already ruined your life once. I won’t risk doing it again. The damage is more than I can carry.”
• With that, I gave him one last smile—a quiet wish for his happiness—and turned my back on him for good.
• Truth be told, in the short time we interacted, I could feel my walls beginning to crumble. Love runs deep—too deep and far too painful if I were to ruin it again. So, I tried to avoid Dr. Anderson as much as possible.
• But in a weird twist of fate, the more I tried to run from him, the more I ran into him—be it in the hallway, the canteen, the family bathroom, or even now.
• I was on my way back from a job interview and craving some coffee, so I stopped by a small shop just outside of town. And there he was, sipping from a steaming cup like he’d been waiting for me all along. When our eyes met, he smiled and waved me over.
• “Hi,” Dr. Anderson greeted.
• “Hello,” I replied, awkwardly.
• “What are you doing here?” he asked.
• “Just finished a job interview,” I said. “What about you? What are you doing all the way across town?”
• “Just grabbing some coffee. The coffee here tastes amazing,” he praised casually.
• “Okay.” I nodded, still feeling a bit weirded out by the coincidence.
• “Number 44,” the lady at the counter called out.
• “That’s me,” I said, hurrying over to the counter with a quiet sigh of relief.
• Not planning to linger, I turned around and smiled politely. “Enjoy your coffee, Dr. Anderson,” I said, already plotting my quick escape.
• But, of course, nothing ever goes my way.
• “Join me,” Dr. Anderson offered casually.
• “I’m fine, I already have a ta—” I stopped mid-sentence, glancing around.
• Every table was taken.
• As if to emphasize the point, the lady at the counter called out, “We’re full!” loud enough for half the café to hear.
• Embarrassed, I turned back to him, smiling sheepishly.
• “Have a seat,” he offered again.
• This time, I accepted without hesitation.
• Once I settled in, I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through job listings. So far, every reputable company had turned me down.
• The ones that did offer me a position? Bottom of the barrel. The pay was miserable, the benefits nonexistent—and don’t even get me started on the octopus-armed boss who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
• Ugh. Just thinking about it gave me goosebumps.
• “Why are you looking for a job?” he asked.
• “I need money,” I answered bluntly.
• “Why? I thought your father had money,” Dr. Anderson said flippantly.
• “That’s their money, not mine,” I replied.
• “But you’re his biological daughter. Whatever he owns should eventually be yours,” he said, as if I were part of some fairy tale where love and blood were enough.
• I scoffed.
• “I’m his illegitimate blood daughter. He left me with nothing.” I said it like it was the most casual thing in the world—like it didn’t rip me apart inside every time I had to say it out loud.
• That shut him up. For a moment, he just sat there, leaning back in his seat, trying to make sense of it all.
• “I don’t get it,” Anderson muttered, confusion clouding his usually unreadable expression.
• “Fair enough,” he said, surprisingly calm. “What’s your degree in?”
• I paused and looked up, wary of the sudden interview energy.
• “Master Jeweler,” I replied flatly.
• “Any experience?” he asked.
• I frowned, not liking where this was going.
• “A couple years in design, competed in a few competitions… wait—” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you trying to hire me?”
• “Profile?” he asked, holding out his hand, but I hesitated.
• “Come on,” he urged again.
• “No,” I said firmly. “I won’t apply to Anderson Corp.”
• “Why not? Don’t you need the money?” he asked, confused.
• “I do,” I admitted, “but I don’t want to get a job through connections.”
• “Is it really such a loss to get a job through me?” he challenged.
• “No,” I replied quietly. “I just don’t know how to face everyone at the company. I’m already at the lowest point in my life. I don’t want anyone stepping on me any more than they already have. Please… just allow me some dignity.”
• I lowered my gaze, ashamed of my past and afraid of what they’d say if I walked through those doors again.
• “If that’s the case, then I have a solution. Let’s go.” Dr. Anderson stood up and motioned for me to follow.
• “To where? Don’t you have work?” I asked, reluctantly.
• “No, it’s my day off,” he replied.
• “Then why are you here?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
• “I was…” He paused, eyes darting around. “…here to get coffee.”
• He hesitated, so I pushed further. “All the way across town? Very suspicious.” I eyed him with growing suspicion.
• “Oi, why are you asking so many questions? Let’s go already,” he tutted, clearly annoyed.
• “I haven’t even eaten yet,” I argued, holding my food protectively.
• “Take it to go,” he said—and then, without another word, practically shoved me into his car.
• He drove us straight to Anderson Corp and parked in the president’s spot. The man hopped out enthusiastically and came around to open the passenger door for me.
• But I wasn’t having it.
• He opened the door—I slammed it shut.
• He opened it again—I shut it again.
• “What is it this time?” he asked, clearly annoyed.
• “Let’s go in separately,” I suggested.
• I let my guard down for one second—and he took the chance to yank the door open, pulling me out in the process.
• “We’re already here. Let’s just go in together,” Dr. Anderson said firmly.
• I shook my head.
• “You’re really not going to go?” he asked one last time.
• I nodded.
• “Then I have no choice but to carry you. Just imagine the attention that’ll attract,” he said.
• I bit my lip and cursed him to hell. “Ugh! What is wrong with you? Why are you always inserting yourself into my life?”
• “You leave me no choice.” Dr. Anderson bent down, reaching for me.
• Panicking, I scurried away. “Stop, stop—fine! I’ll walk!” I snapped.
• “That’s it. You don’t have to complicate things,” Dr. Anderson said, satisfied.
• As we walked in, every pair of eyes in the building seemed to lock on us.
• Maybe it was the rare appearance of Dr. Anderson, or maybe it was the fact that he was walking beside his ex-wife. Either way, I felt completely out of place.
• Though he rarely visited the company, he had access to everything—including the president’s elevator—thanks to his status as a shareholder and family member. He took me straight up in that elevator, all the way to Tyson’s office door.
• “Anna…” Celine chimed when she saw me. The woman was still as beautiful as ever. “This way. Tyson is expecting you.”
• “He knows?” I asked, confused.
• “Max called earlier,” Celine said.
• I nodded. I should’ve known.
• I followed her, dread crawling up my legs with every step.
• After three soft knocks, we were granted permission to enter. The moment Celine stepped through the door, the once-intimidating CEO’s expression softened—his gaze filled with affection and adoration as it landed on his wife.
• A look I couldn’t help but envy.
• “Your guest are here.” Celine said and offered us seats.
• “Thank you, served us water please,” he said to his wife.
• Celine agreed with a smile before walking away.
• “Can I see your profile?” Tyson asked.
• I hesitated, then slowly slid the folder across the desk.
• Tyson took it, flipped through the pages briefly, then said, “Max, leave us alone.”
• Dr. Anderson didn’t look pleased, but he begrudgingly stepped out of the room.
• “Do you have anything you want to tell me?” Tyson asked, his tone sharp and unreadable.
• “No,” I replied quietly.
• “Then why are you here?” he pressed, voice firm and unrelenting.
• “Dr. Anderson dragged me here,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral.
• “Is that all… Crimson Nova?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized me.
• I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly feeling exposed—like he could see right through me.