Prescription: love
Chapter 3
The corridors of St. Havens Hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic, coffee, and nerves. Dozens of fresh-faced interns gathered in the training hall, their new white coats crisp, their shoes squeaking on the polished floor.
Most of them looked excited—buzzing with chatter about rotations, surgeries, and which departments they hoped to shadow in. But Nora Daniels stood at the farthest end of the line, silent, her hands fisted tightly at her sides.
She was trying to disappear.
The trouble was, Adrian Blackwood had already seen her.
He walked in with his usual presence, tall, composed, his white coat hanging perfectly from broad shoulders. His gray eyes swept the hall, assessing each face like he was looking for flaws before anyone had the chance to prove themselves.
And when those eyes landed on her, his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Nora’s breath hitched. She lowered her gaze, praying he’d move on.
But Adrian never moved on when it came to her.
“Daniels,” his voice rang out suddenly, smooth and sharp all at once.
Every head in the hall turned instantly.
Nora froze. Her stomach dropped, her knees wobbling beneath her.
“I—yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Step forward.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she obeyed. She could feel the other interns’ eyes boring into her, curiosity and confusion radiating from them. Somewhere near the front, Maya frowned, clearly puzzled.
Adrian let his gaze sweep her up and down, deliberately slow. “Tell me, Daniels. Why are you here?”
Nora’s lips trembled. “To… to learn, sir.”
A smirk ghosted across his mouth—sharp, disbelieving. “To learn,” he repeated. “Interesting. Because from where I’m standing, you don’t look prepared. Your uniform is wrinkled. Your shoes aren’t regulation. And you were late.”
The room buzzed with whispers. A few interns chuckled under their breath.
Nora’s chest tightened painfully. She wanted to explain—about her father in the hospital, about her overnight shift at the restaurant, about running across the city just to make it here at all. But Adrian’s gaze was so cutting that the words stuck in her throat.
He tilted his head, voice calm but merciless. “Tell me, Daniels, if a patient were in critical condition, should I trust someone who can’t even arrive on time to save their life?”
Her voice broke as she whispered, “No, sir.”
“Exactly,” Adrian said coldly, turning to address the room as though her humiliation was a teaching point. “Hospitals are not playgrounds. Lives don’t wait for you to get your act together. If you can’t take responsibility, you don’t belong here.”
Nora felt her face burn hot as laughter rippled again. Her nails dug into her palms, the shame slicing deep.
“Return to your place,” Adrian ordered.
She obeyed, her head bowed. She couldn’t bear to look at Maya, who was staring at her with wide, questioning eyes.
The rest of the orientation was a blur. Adrian spoke about rotations, hospital rules, the expectations of discipline—but Nora could barely hear over the pounding of her own heart. His words clung to her like chains.
Desperation. Reckless. Doesn’t belong here.
When the session finally ended, the interns clustered in groups, buzzing with gossip. Nora slipped out quickly, keeping her eyes on the floor. But she didn’t get far.
“Nora!”
Maya grabbed her arm, pulling her aside into a quieter corridor. “What the hell was that?”
Nora shook her head quickly. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing?” Maya frowned, her dark brows knitting. “He humiliated you in front of everyone. He knew your name without checking the list. He looked at you like—like you’d done something. Nora, do you know him?”
Nora’s breath caught. She opened her mouth, but no words came.
Her silence was enough.
Maya’s eyes widened. “Oh my God. You do know him. How? What happened?”
Nora hugged her bag tightly to her chest. “I… I can’t tell you.”
“Nora,” Maya said softly now, her tone almost pleading. “We’re supposed to be best friends. You can tell me anything.”
Her throat burned. She wanted to—wanted so badly to spill everything, to tell Maya about the auction, about how Adrian had been there, about the money, the shame, the way he looked at her like she was dirt beneath his shoes. But if she told Maya, she’d never look at her the same way again.
So she shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “It’s fine. Just forget it.”
Maya stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. But listen to me—whatever this is, whatever happened between you two… be careful. That man has power here. If you get on his bad side—”
Nora gave a humorless laugh, wiping her eyes quickly. “I think I already have.”
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Later that day, the interns were sent into the surgical ward for observation. They crowded together in the hallway, watching through the large glass windows as doctors and nurses moved swiftly around a patient being prepped for surgery.
Adrian stood at the front, explaining the procedure in crisp, clinical detail. His voice carried effortlessly, every word clear. “This is a routine appendectomy. Straightforward, but still requires precision. Watch the team. Learn their rhythm. In surgery, every movement matters.”
The interns scribbled notes, nodding eagerly.
Then his gaze flicked to Nora.
“Daniels,” he said suddenly.
She froze. “Y-yes, sir?”
“Step inside.”
The group gasped softly. Some of them looked envious, others gleeful, as though waiting for a spectacle.
Nora’s heart hammered as she pushed the door open and stepped into the freezing-cold operating room. The doctors barely glanced at her, too focused on their work. The bright lights overhead made her squint, and the smell of disinfectant and sterile equipment was overwhelming.
Adrian gestured toward the tray of instruments. “Identify the scalpel.”
Nora blinked at the array of shiny tools, her mind going blank. She knew this—she’d studied it—but under his burning stare, everything she’d memorized flew out of her head.
Her trembling hand hovered uncertainly before pointing to the wrong instrument.
Adrian’s voice cut like ice. “That’s not a scalpel. It’s a forceps. Tell me, Daniels, would you like to hand a surgeon forceps instead of a scalpel while a patient is bleeding out?”
The surgeons in the room exchanged looks, some smirking faintly. Through the glass, Nora could see the other interns whispering and stifling laughs.
Her face turned crimson. “I—I’m sorry, sir—”
“Sorry doesn’t save lives,” Adrian snapped.
Her stomach dropped. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but she fought to keep them in.
Adrian turned to the group of interns outside. “This,” he said, his voice clear and deliberate, “is what happens when you walk in unprepared. You embarrass yourself, and worse—you endanger patients.”
Nora felt like the ground had been ripped from under her.
“Get out,” Adrian ordered.
Her throat closed, humiliation burning like fire through her veins. She hurried out of the room, head bowed, tears spilling despite her efforts to hold them back.
When she rejoined the group, she could feel their eyes on her—judging, curious, mocking.
Maya stepped forward, her voice fierce. “Ignore them,” she whispered quickly, slipping a tissue into Nora’s hand.
But Nora couldn’t ignore the one voice still echoing in her head.
Adrian’s.
Sorry doesn’t save lives.
And for the first time, she wondered if he really meant to destroy her completely.
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