The Genius Doctor's Perfect Fake Death

Alivia stood in the middle of the hallway, her chest heaving as she desperately tried to force the air back into her lungs. She looked down. Julian’s small hand had dropped to his side. The flashcard with the crude drawing and the word MAMA hung loosely in his fingers. The agony in Alivia’s chest was unbearable. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip the card from his hand and tear it to pieces. She forced herself to look away from the boy, locking her eyes onto the polished floor tiles. The nanny quickly scooped Julian up into her arms, murmuring frantic apologies, and scurried away down the corridor, disappearing around the corner. Collis closed the distance between them. His long, measured strides ate up the space until he was standing less than three feet away from her. He didn’t say a word about the boy. He didn’t ask why there were fresh tear tracks shining on her cheeks. Instead, he reached inside the breast pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out a thick, sealed white envelope. He held it out toward her. His face was a mask of cold, corporate indifference. “Dr. Clay,” Collis said, his voice flat. “This is the retainer fee for the preliminary surgical prep. The rest will be wired to your account upon my grandfather’s successful recovery.” Alivia stared at the envelope. It was thick enough to hold a check that could buy a small island. It was his way of reminding her of the power dynamic. He was the master; she was the hired help. She took a deep breath, forcing the tremor out of her hands. She reached out and pinched the corner of the envelope, deliberately keeping her fingers as far away from his as possible. She snatched it from his grip. “The Duncan family’s reputation for throwing money at problems is well-earned,” Alivia said. Her voice was brittle, laced with a bitter sarcasm she couldn’t hide. Collis’s eyes narrowed slightly at her tone, but before he could respond, a loud crash echoed from the adjacent intersecting hallway. A young nursing student had lost her grip on a heavy, motorized surgical equipment cart. The cart, loaded with hundreds of pounds of metal trays and monitors, hit a slight downward slope in the linoleum floor. It careened wildly around the corner, picking up speed, heading directly for Alivia’s back. “Look out!” the nurse screamed. Collis saw it before Alivia even had time to turn her head. He didn’t think. The reaction bypassed his brain entirely and fired straight from his muscle memory. He lunged forward. His large hands clamped down hard on Alivia’s upper arms. With a violent, powerful heave, he yanked her forward, pulling her completely off her feet. He spun them both around, swapping their positions in a fraction of a second. He pulled her flush against his chest and hunched his broad shoulders, turning his back to the runaway cart. SMASH. The heavy metal corner of the cart slammed brutally into the center of Collis’s spine. Collis let out a sharp, guttural grunt of pain. His body jerked forward from the impact, but his arms remained locked around Alivia like a steel cage, absorbing the entire blow so she wouldn’t feel a thing. Alivia’s face was smashed against the hard muscle of his chest. Her nose was instantly flooded with the overwhelming scent of cedarwood, expensive fabric, and his raw, masculine heat. The sensation of his arms wrapped completely around her, trapping her, shielding her with his own body… it was the exact same way he used to hold her when she had a panic attack in the basement. He would lock her in his arms and whisper that he was the only one who could protect her. It wasn’t a memory. It was a physical flashback. Pure, unadulterated terror exploded in Alivia’s brain. The trauma response hijacked her nervous system. “NO!” Alivia let out a sound that was half-scream, half-sob. It was the sound of an animal caught in a trap. She brought both of her hands up between them. She placed her palms flat against his chest and shoved. It wasn’t a polite push. It was a violent, desperate explosion of strength fueled by pure adrenaline. Collis, caught off guard by the sheer ferocity of her reaction, and still off-balance from the cart hitting his back, was thrown backward. His grip broke. Alivia stumbled backward, her heels skidding on the floor. She didn’t stop until her shoulder blades slammed hard against the wall of the corridor. She stood there, pressed flat against the wall. Her chest was heaving violently, sucking in massive gulps of air. Her eyes were wide, wild, and filled with a look of absolute, naked horror as she stared at him. It was the look of a victim staring at her abuser. The hallway went dead silent. The nursing student stood frozen in shock. Collis slowly straightened up. He ignored the throbbing pain radiating down his spine. He looked at his empty hands, then slowly raised his head to look at Alivia. He saw the terror in her eyes. He saw the way she was shrinking against the wall, treating him not like a man who had just saved her from a broken spine, but like a monster about to devour her. No stranger reacts like that. The storm clouds gathered in Collis’s dark gray eyes. The cold indifference vanished, replaced by a terrifying, hyper-focused intensity. He took a slow, deliberate step toward her. The predator had finally woken up.