Alaina pressed her gloved fingers gently against the red, swollen edge of Chelsey's jaw.

Chelsey flinched violently. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes.

Jarred moved instantly. He took a long stride forward, closing the distance to the hospital bed.

He raised his large hand and hovered it just above Chelsey's shoulder, a stark, physical display of protection.

"Is there not a less aggressive way to examine her?" Jarred demanded. His voice was hard, cutting through the sterile air.

Alaina's fingers froze mid-air.

Seeing him so fiercely protective of another woman ripped open the scab on a wound she thought had healed.

She pulled her hand back. She stripped off the latex gloves and threw them into the biohazard bin.

"It is a necessary palpation to check for bone displacement," Alaina said. Her voice was rigid and cold.

She picked up the clipboard and quickly scribbled down her assessment. "You have a mandibular fracture. It requires immediate surgery."

Chelsey's face drained of color. Panic set in. She looked up at Jarred, her eyes begging for comfort.

Jarred softened his posture. He lowered his voice. "Don't be afraid. I will get you the best medical team available."

That soft Don't be afraid hit Alaina like a sledgehammer to the chest.

Alaina lowered her eyelashes. She stared hard at the black ink on the chart until the letters blurred together.

The beeping of the heart monitor faded into the background. Her mind was violently yanked back to a torrential, rain-soaked night eight years ago.

She saw a younger Jarred standing in the pouring rain. His clothes were soaked through, sticking to his skin. His eyes were bloodshot as he gripped her hands.

She remembered the raw desperation in his voice as he begged her not to give up on them.

She remembered the crushing weight of his family's absolute disapproval, the impossible chasm between their worlds, and the terrible choice she was forced to make. She remembered forcing herself to say the most vicious, heartless things to push Jarred away, to protect him from his own family's wrath.

She remembered the exact moment he finally let go of her hands. She remembered the broken, defeated line of his back as he turned and walked away into the storm.

A loud crash from a metal cart rolling past the ER door snapped Alaina back to the present.

She blinked hard, forcing the burning moisture back down her tear ducts.

When she lifted her head, her face was a flawless mask of medical authority.

She handed the signed clipboard to Leah, who was standing quietly in the corner.

"NPO starting now. No food or water. Prep her for anesthesia," Alaina instructed Chelsey in a flat, monotone voice.

Jarred narrowed his eyes. His sharp gaze caught the slight tremor in Alaina's fingertips as she handed over the board.

A complex emotion flashed in his dark eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a microscopic, mocking smirk.

Alaina turned her body toward the door. She couldn't stay in this room for another second.

"If you experience any breathing difficulties, press the call button for the nurse," Alaina said to the room.

She walked fast. She pushed open the heavy metal door of the ER and stepped out into the hallway.

The door slowly swung shut behind her, finally cutting off the heavy, suffocating weight of Jarred's stare.

Alaina walked to the corner of the corridor. She leaned her back against the cold, tiled wall and gasped for air.

Alaina kept her eyes closed. She pressed her spine against the cold wall, taking slow, deep breaths to force her racing heart to slow down.

Leah walked out of the ER room a minute later. She stopped and looked at Alaina with concern. "Dr. Strong, you look awful. Do you need to sit down?"

Alaina shook her head. She pushed herself off the wall and walked toward the water cooler at the end of the hall.

She grabbed a small paper cup, filled it halfway with cold water, and threw it back in one gulp.

The freezing liquid hit her stomach, clearing the fog in her brain just enough to remember protocol.

She realized she hadn't gotten the secondary consent form signed by the accompanying family member. She sighed and walked back down the hall.

When she reached Room 3, she noticed the heavy door wasn't fully latched. It was slightly ajar. She nudged it open just a fraction more to listen.

Alaina raised her hand to knock, but Chelsey's soft, grateful voice drifted through the crack.

Alaina paused. Through the widened crack, she saw Chelsey looking up at Jarred, who was now sitting in the plastic visitor's chair.

Jarred didn't respond to Chelsey's thanks. He casually reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his phone to check a notification.

As the screen lit up, Chelsey leaned forward slightly, catching a glimpse of the display.

"Oh, what a beautiful wallpaper," Chelsey said. "Is that the Redwood Grove in California?"

Outside the door, Alaina's heart skipped a violent beat.

The Redwood Grove. It was the place they had promised to visit together eight years ago. The trip they never got to take.

Inside the room, Jarred's relaxed posture vanished. His shoulders went rigid.

His thumb slammed down on the lock button. The screen went pitch black instantly.

Jarred's face darkened. "I'm just too lazy to change it," he snapped. His voice was harsh and biting.

The sudden aggression in his tone made Chelsey shrink back against the pillows, too intimidated to say another word.

Jarred yanked at his silk tie, loosening it with a frustrated jerk. He stood up abruptly. "My assistant will be here in five minutes to handle the rest of this."

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door.

Alaina panicked. She took two quick steps backward, holding the consent form up to her face, pretending to read the fine print.

The ER door was pulled open violently. Jarred stepped out into the hallway, bringing a wave of cold, intimidating energy with him.

As he walked past Alaina, his long stride faltered for a fraction of a second.

The scent of his custom cologne-a rich blend of cedarwood and mint-washed over her, suffocating her senses.

Jarred looked down at her from his height. A low, dark scoff escaped his lips.

It was a sound full of mockery, as if he could see right through her pathetic attempt to look busy.

He didn't say a word. He just kept walking, his long legs carrying him down the corridor until he disappeared around the corner.

Alaina gripped the edges of the clipboard. Her knuckles turned stark white.

The detail of the Redwood wallpaper acted like a crowbar, prying open the sealed box of her convictions. Her certainty that he had moved on began to crack.

She bit her lower lip, pushed the door open, and walked back in to face Chelsey.

Alaina sat in her small hospital office. She rubbed the tight muscles at the back of her neck, exhausted from the long shift.

Her phone vibrated against the wooden desk. The screen lit up with the caller ID: Aunt Judith.

Alaina let out a heavy sigh. She swiped the green button and pressed the phone to her ear.

Aunt Judith's loud, commanding voice immediately filled the speaker, launching into her usual lecture about Alaina's single status.

"I have arranged a dinner for you tonight," Judith announced, leaving no room for argument. "His name is Mark Hoffman. He is a very successful corporate lawyer."

"Aunt Judith, I can't. The hospital has been crazy, I'm too tired," Alaina tried to decline.

"You will go," Judith snapped, using her authority as the family elder. "I am doing this for your own good, Alaina. You cannot work yourself into an early grave alone."

Alaina's mind was still spinning from the image of Jarred's phone wallpaper. She didn't have the energy to fight. She agreed just to get Judith off the phone.

She tossed the phone onto the desk and ran her hands through her hair in frustration.

The next evening, Alaina stood in front of her open closet in her apartment.

She pulled out a simple, well-tailored black silk slip dress. It was elegant but conservative.

Claire leaned against the doorframe, whistling loudly. "Alaina, put this on and you will be the show-stopping Sera of the night! I swear, ever since college, that has been my favorite alter ego for you when you dress to kill."

Alaina offered a weak smile. "Stop with the college nicknames, Claire." She grabbed her clutch, slipped into a beige trench coat, and walked out the door.

She took an Uber to Midtown Manhattan. The car pulled up to an exclusive, members-only restaurant.

Alaina pushed open the heavy glass doors. The sound of soft jazz and the low hum of wealthy patrons filled the air.

A blonde hostess named Anna Bell greeted her with a polished smile and checked her reservation.

Anna gestured gracefully, leading Alaina through the dimly lit, opulent dining room.

Alaina spotted Mark immediately. He was sitting in a corner booth, wearing a sharp grey suit.

Seeing her approach, Mark stood up quickly, flashing an eager smile, and pulled out her chair.

Alaina thanked him politely, sat down, and handed her trench coat to a waiting waiter.

Across the expansive dining room, hidden behind a curtain of crystal beads, sat a VIP semi-private booth.

Jarred was leaning back against the dark leather sofa. He held a crystal glass of whiskey over ice in his right hand.

His friends, Preston Hayes and Lachlan Rhodes, sat across from him, deeply engaged in a conversation about real estate.

Jarred lifted his eyes lazily. His gaze drifted through the gaps in the crystal beads and scanned the main floor.

His eyes locked onto the woman in the black silk dress who had just sat down.

The moment he recognized Alaina, the lazy indifference in Jarred's eyes vanished, replaced by something dark and incredibly dangerous.

He watched the man sitting across from her. He saw the way Mark looked at Alaina-a look full of hungry, possessive appreciation.

Jarred's fingers tightened around the whiskey glass. His knuckles popped loudly.

His hand shook slightly with suppressed rage. The ice cubes clinked sharply against the crystal glass.

Jarred tilted his head back and swallowed the burning liquor in one shot. A violent storm was brewing in his black eyes.