After The Divorce I Became Untouchable: The Rise Of Ghost Do

Chapter 7 : Sit

Power isn't about throwing threats. It's the silence between words.

Ivan sat in a corner at Meridian Café. The kind of quiet place where business was conducted in whispers.

He had ordered black coffee but hadn't touched it.

When he checked his wrist watch tangled on his wrists, a deep sigh escaped him.

Immediately the door opened, and a woman walked in.

Six feet tall in heels, high cheekbones, tailored black suit, dark hair pulled back severe enough to cut glass.

Her blue eyes cut through the silence in the room, and her gaze fell on him—Ivan.

Her name was Serena Vale. She entered like she owned not just the café but the entire city block.

She moved through the room with the confidence of someone who had never heard the word "No" and wouldn't recognize it if she did.

Every head in the café turned to watch her, but she ignored them all.

Her beauty was extraordinary. No man could walk past her, without turning for a second glance.

But as she sauntered towards the front table, her eyes stayed locked on Ivan.

She crossed the room, high heels clicking against hardwood. And then, she stopped at his table.

"Mr. Murphy," she said, her voice smooth as silk over steel. "I'm Serena Vale."

Ivan looked up from his untouched coffee. "I know."

"Then you know I don't waste time." She remained standing, looking down at him. A classic power move.

Her fierce gaze and curved smirk established dominance before a word of business was spoken.

But Ivan didn't stand.

He smiled. “Speaking about timing. You're supposed to be here 15 minutes ago.”

Her smile faltered, and she scoffed.

She circled the table slowly, like a predator assessing a prey. Then, she settled on the seat right opposite hmm.

"I represent the Vale Group. Pharmaceutical development, medical technology, hospital chains across three continents. We're interested in acquiring your expertise."

"Not interested," Ivan said almost instantly, voice calm and quiet.

Serena rested her back against the chair.

"You haven't heard my offer."

"I don't need to."

Serena halted and stood from her seat, her eyes narrowing.

She circled him again, observing. Her eyes rolled over his head and dressing, as she tried to access his class.

"I'm offering you fifty million to consult on our research division. Another hundred million for exclusive rights to any procedures you develop. And a position as Chief Medical Officer with complete autonomy."

"No."

That was final.

Selena froze. Her jaw tightened, and she leaned forward, hands on the table. Her face came to a close level with his.

"Mr. Murphy, I've done my homework. Six days ago, you had nothing. No money, no home, no prospects. Now you're turning down a hundred and fifty million dollars?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Ivan finally looked at her directly. His confidence and certainty of what he wanted was alarming.

Those cold blue eyes that had intimidated powerful CEOs and influential figures.

"Sit," he said.

It wasn't a request. It wasn't even a command.

It was a statement of reality.

Serena's body moved before her mind could catch up.

And in an instant, she sat.

The moment she realized what she had done, her eyes went wide.

She just obeyed a man she was trying to recruit. A man she was supposed to be negotiating with from a position of strength.

She had sat because he told her to.

The silence stretched between them like a living thing.

Serena opened her mouth and closed it. Then opened it again.

"How did you—" she started.

"You came here thinking you had power," Ivan said, his voice still quiet. "Money. Connections. Influence. You think those things matter to me?"

He picked up his coffee, took a sip, set it down.

"They don't."

Serena felt her pulse racing. She'd negotiated billion-dollar deals. Faced down corporate sharks and political predators. Not a single one made her feel off-balance.

But this man, in his simple clothes, with his calm voice, had just dismantled her self-confidence with one word.

"What do you want?" she asked, and hated how uncertain she sounded.

"Nothing you can give me."

Her breath caught in her chest. "Everyone wants something."

Ivan smiled. "Not from you." He leaned back. "You came here to buy me. To own me. To add the Ghost Doctor to your corporate portfolio like an asset."

Serena said nothing. He was right.

"I'm not for sale," Ivan continued. "Not for fifty million. Not for a billion. Not for anything."

"Then why did you agree to this meeting?"

"I didn't. You arranged it. I just didn't leave."

Serena felt something she hadn't felt in years.

Fascination.

This man had just rejected more money than most people saw in their lifetime.

He had just reduced her—Serena Vale, one of the most powerful women in the medical industry to following his simple command.

And he didn't seem to care.

"You're either the smartest man I've ever met," she said slowly, "or the most foolish."

"Maybe both." Ivan stood. "Thank you for the offer, Ms. Vale. But I'm not interested in partnerships, positions, or money."

He dropped twenty dollars on the table for the coffee he'd barely touched and started to walk away.

"Wait," Serena said, standing as well.

He paused.

"If not money or position, then what? Everyone has a price. Everyone wants something."

Ivan looked back at her. "I want to be left alone."

"I don't believe you."

"That's your problem, not mine."

He walked out of the café, leaving Serena standing there.

Her carefully prepared pitch is still half-unspoken.

She sat back down slowly, her mind racing.

In ten minutes, Ivan Murphy had done what no one had done in fifteen years of her career.

He had made her doubt herself.

She pulled out her phone, staring at the screen without seeing it.

"Interesting," she murmured.

Outside, Ivan walked down the street, hands in his pockets. His phone buzzed. Another blocked number. He ignored it.

Behind him, through the café window, Serena watched him go.

Something like a smile hung on her lips.

---

Ivan made it three blocks before his phone rang with a number he recognized.

Dr. Raymond Chen.

He answered. "What is it?"

"Mr. Murphy, we have a situation." Chen's voice was tight with stress.

"Dr. Solomon Krell just held a press conference. He's calling you a fraud. Says the surgery on William Jerome was faked. He's demanding you prove your credentials publicly."

Ivan stopped walking. "Solomon Krell. The Solomon Krell?"

"Head of the International Medical Board. Three Nobel nominations. The man who decides what's legitimate medicine and what's quackery."

"And he thinks I'm quackery?"

"He's challenging you to a public demonstration. Live surgery. Broadcast internationally. He wants you to lose your credibility."

Ivan closed his eyes. "When?"

"Three days. Lakecity Medical University auditorium. Every major news outlet will be there."

"If I refuse?"

"He'll spend the rest of his career destroying your reputation. And he has the power to do it."

Ivan stood on the sidewalk, people flocking past him like water around a stone.

Three days.

"Tell him I accept," Ivan said quietly.

"Are you sure? Krell is brilliant. Ruthless. If you lose—"

"I won't lose."

Ivan hung up.

Across the city, in his medical office, Dr. Solomon Krell, a man of early 60s, smiled, as his assistant confirmed Ivan's acceptance.

"Excellent," Krell said. "Let's see if this Ghost Doctor is real, or just another fraud who got lucky."

But it didn't occur to him. This could be his biggest mistake in all his years as a medical practitioner.