Prime Hospital, Los Angeles.

Charles Kingston pushed through the glass doors with the kind of stride that said the world still bent for him.

Behind him, his girlfriend limped pitifully, her face twisted with pain—yet all she carried was a single scratch on her arm.

A long line snaked past the reception desk.

Charles didn't join it. He cut in front of the nearest man without a second thought.

"Hey,” the man protested. Charles kept walking.

At the desk Charles leaned in, voice sharp as a knife. "Nurse. Get me the best doctor you have. Now."

The receptionist, a young woman—already irritated from seeing them cut the line -glanced once at the woman clinging desperately to Charles.

Her arm bore nothing more than a shallow scratch, blood already dried into thin red lines. Yet the woman sobbed like her life was slipping away.

Even a five-year-old wouldn't cry this hard over something so small, the nurse thought. But the woman pressed harder into Charles, wailing:

"Darling, what's happening to me? Am I going to die? I don't want to die-please, please help me."

The nurse's patience snapped. Her tone was clipped, professional but sharp.

"The best doctor is in surgery. If you go to triage, a nurse can clean and dress it. Or you can cross the street and buy a bandage. You'll be fine. And next time— don't cut the line. Next."

Charles slammed his palm on the counter until the wood rang. The reception area froze.


"You damn nurse,” he spat. "Don't you know who I am? My girlfriend is bleeding. Call your best doctor, now."

The nurse didn't flinch. "Sir, I don't care who you are. If you make trouble, I'll call security and you'll be asked to leave."

Charles laughed, a cold, high sound. "You, a little nurse, threatening to call security on me?"

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he barked and hooked five fingers under the nurse's collar and dragged him closer.

"Call the best doctor now," Charles hissed. "Or you'll regret it."

A man behind Charles-the one he'd shoved out of line-stepped forward and clamped a firm hand on Charles' shoulder.

“Leave the nurse alone,” he said, voice steady. “She already told you. Your woman just needs a bandage. Stop making a damn scene."

Charles spun, rage burning in his eyes.

"Take your hand off me, bastard." His face twisted into something wild, the kind of look that made normal men wonder if he was drunk, high, or just rotting with arrogance.

The stranger saw the madness burning in Charles' eyes and chose not to push further. He lifted both hands in surrender.

"Whatever, man. But remember this arrogance brings loss. Humility brings gain."

Charles sneered, lip curling like a whip. "Yeah? Save those words for the poor fools like you."

Then he hauled the nurse forward. "Call the doctor. Now."


"I can't!" the nurse shouted, voice cracking. "Doctor Hendrick is in the OR. He's in the middle of a procedure. I can't—”

"Then pull him out!" Charles barked. "This is an emergency too!"

"I can't!" the nurse repeated, helpless and steady all at once.

Charles lost it. The thin mask of barely-there politeness ripped away, and the fury beneath—always as fragile as tissue divided ten times over-shattered in an

instant.

He grabbed a fistful of the nurse's long hair and slammed the young woman's head against the counter.

Red spattered the reception wood. The nurse's nose burst open and blood ran hot across her lip.

Charles roared. "Don't make me wait, you asshole. Don't

Charles'

him. "Back off, you little shit. You

Charles Kingston... sorry. Thought you were just

sneered. "So you finally

the man shot back. "A bastard


face went red. He leaned in, venom in his voice.

"Oh, you'll decide? Last time you played judge, the courthouse filed a restraining order against

broke something

He didn't argue.

closed the distance and slammed

heap. People in the queue closed

we take you down together," another

"You gonna take me? You'll

turned his head and barked, "Guards! What are you waiting for? Do you want me knocked down before you act?

in, wheeling Kelly Kingston

had chased after Charles when he bolted ahead with his girlfriend, leaving Kelly behind without a second

through the halls in a wheelchair, they fought

the moment her chair cleared the doorway, they


and his orders cracked like

let Kelly go and dove into the crowd, plowing through bodies with brutal, practiced

Shouts, scuffling feet, someone's

nurse up by her hair again, the young woman's

menace coiling through each word. "Call your best doctor now or I'll smash your face

trembled, but she snatched

we need you

a man's

the operating room smelled of

iron.

at

please!" the nurse's voice cracked over the speaker. "You have to get out here reception's filling up. Ten people are bleeding. If you don't

could die out here."

to' s

be dramatic," he snapped, still working.

until I'm done."

wall

don't come here right now,

affair

a metallic clang. Hendrick's

Hendrick muttered under his breath. He didn't waste another word. "Hold

his gloves and strode out, nurses and assistants staring as he passed. Whispers rippled through the

he really does have

the OR

scene struck him like a gunfight-bodies scattered across the tile, blood

legs

one knee. "If we don't operate now, you'll lose

the corridor. "Get her to the operating

victims. They were

Kelly, but a hand slammed down on the

think

is critical. Do

don't fucking care!" Charles roared, yanking his girlfriend closer. "You treat

the woman clinging to Charles. Her arms were scratched,

coldly, and shoved the wheelchair forward again. Charles' hand shot out and clamped down on the chair. "Do you want to die?" he hissed. "If I tell you

at him through

understand why she'd ever backed Charles, why

why

blood

bløði on the floor and nothing left to

s

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