002

MIRABEL’S POV

I rushed through the hospital corridors, my heart hammering against my ribs with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Today, I was finally meeting my new work partner — the head surgeon who had just been transferred to our facility. I straightened my uniform, trying to appear composed despite the whirlwind of nerves inside me.

When I reached his office, I paused briefly at the door before knocking.

“Come in,” a deep voice called out from inside.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open. And there he was.

John.

My ex-lover. The man I had slept with in a moment of weakness — a moment I had buried deep inside, hoping to never face again.

He looked up from the papers on his desk, his face contorting into an expression of pure shock.

“Mirabel,” he said, his voice rough and disbelieving. “You work here?”

I struggled to maintain my composure, forcing my lips into a tight, polite smile. “Yes, sir. I was assigned to assist you.”

John’s eyes darkened almost immediately. He leaned back in his chair, his expression hardening into something colder, more calculating.

“Do you have any idea what people might say?” he sneered. “They’ll think you’re just another office tramp. Sleeping your way to the top.”

Anger flared inside me, but I bit it back, clenching my fists behind my back. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.

Before I could respond, John’s expression shifted. His eyes narrowed, gleaming with something darker than anger.

He stood up from his chair, taking a slow step toward me.

“You know what, Mirabel? Maybe I don’t care what people think,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “All I know is that I want more of you. Right now.”

I froze, every muscle in my body tensing. My mind raced, torn between fear and the dangerous pull he had always had over me.

Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded at the door. My heart leapt into my throat.

I glanced at John, silently pleading for him to handle it, but he just shrugged lazily and nodded at me. “Answer it,” he said.

Swallowing hard, I crossed the room and pulled the door open.

Standing there, looking just as shocked as I felt, was Andrew — John’s son. And worse — my ex-boyfriend.

“Mirabel,” Andrew said, his voice catching slightly. His gaze locked onto mine with a mixture of confusion and disbelief as he stepped into the office.

He turned toward his father and gave a humorless laugh. “Dad, meet my ex-girlfriend.”

John stiffened visibly behind his desk. His face paled, and his hand tightened around the edge of the desk.

“Your… ex-girlfriend?” he asked, his voice unnaturally strained.

I felt sick. The room seemed to tilt slightly as I tried to steady myself, willing the ground not to swallow me whole.

Andrew smirked bitterly, unaware of the storm brewing in the room. “Small world, huh?”

John’s eyes darted between Andrew and me, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, struggling to find words.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” Andrew demanded, frowning now. He took a step closer to John, sensing the tension that hung heavy in the air.

“Nothing’s wrong,” John muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “I have work to do. You should go.”

Andrew hesitated for a second before giving me one last look and stepping out of the office. The moment the door clicked shut, John sprang into action.

He locked the door, then crossed the room in two strides, grabbing my arm with bruising force.

I gasped, struggling against him, but he was too strong.

“Did you plan this?” he hissed. “Did you come back into my life to get revenge through my son?”

“No!” I protested, my voice trembling. “You have it all wrong. That night… it was a mistake. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

John’s grip loosened slightly, but he didn’t let me go. Instead, he studied me, his eyes burning with something twisted and hungry.

“A mistake, huh?” he murmured, leaning closer. His breath fanned against my cheek. “Well, mistake or not, I’m not finished with you.”

I tried to pull away, but he caught me against his chest, his voice low and feverish.

“I want more than just your body,” he whispered, his fingers tracing my jawline. “I want your heart. Your soul. Everything.”

Fear and something else — something shameful — coiled inside me. His presence overwhelmed me, drowning my rational thoughts.

“And what if I don’t want that?” I said, forcing myself to sound braver than I felt.

John chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Oh, but you do, Mirabel,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “You crave it. Just like I do.”

Before I could react, he pushed me back against the wall and captured my mouth in a bruising kiss. His hands roamed over my uniform, pulling it apart with a shocking urgency.

I gasped as he tugged at my skirt, lifting it up before sliding his hand between my thighs.

A moan escaped me as his fingers brushed over my clitoris, slow and deliberate.

“You’re already wet for me,” he whispered smugly against my ear.

Shame burned through me, but my body betrayed me, arching toward him involuntarily.

John pushed me toward the couch, stripping off his trousers with practiced ease. I reached for him without thinking, feeling the hardness of his erection against my palm. My head spun as he positioned himself between my legs, the heat of him scorching my skin.

“Hold me tight, baby,” he whispered into my hair as he slid into me with a slow, devastating thrust.

I clung to him, my nails digging into his back, every sense overloaded by the feel of him moving inside me. He rocked his hips, slow and deep, driving me to the brink with agonizing precision.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, unable to hold back the wave of sensation crashing over me.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “You’re mine now. All mine.”

His thrusts became harder, more desperate, and I felt my body tighten around him as he pushed me closer to the edge. The tension snapped inside me like a live wire, and I cried out, my body convulsing in release.

John grunted softly as he followed me over the edge, burying himself deep before collapsing against me.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were our heavy breathing and the distant hum of the hospital outside these four walls.

Slowly, John kissed my forehead with a strange tenderness. “You’re so sweet,” he whispered.

Reality crashed back down on me like a tidal wave. Shame and fear tangled inside me as I scrambled to fix my uniform, avoiding John’s eyes.

Without another word, I opened the door and slipped out into the corridor, my steps shaky and my heart splintering into pieces.

I didn’t know if I could survive the storm I had just unleashed — or if I even deserved to.