2025-10-08 08:09:38"Charlie! You need to come to the hospital now!" Fear and worry filled Nancy's voice. "Mother is dying, she needs blood." The urgency in her tone left no room for questions.
"I'll be right there," I assured her before hurriedly grabbing my jacket and keys.
Halfway to the gate, I bumped into a woman.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you," I said, trying to wear my jacket while opening the gate.
"You?!" She looked shocked. Though I was in a hurry, I stopped to take a second look at her face.
"Do I know you?"
"That's not important now. But you... where are you off to in such a rush?"
"Look, I need to be at the hospital. If you have something to say, please excuse me." I made to walk away, but she blocked me.
"A hospital is no place for a war god," she whispered. I stopped.
I turned back, frowning.
"I know your accident was a serious one, and you lost both your powers and your memory, but the hospital is no place for you."
"What’s this all about?" I raised my voice slightly. She glanced around with a forced smile, likely trying not to draw attention.
"How about we talk when you're free?" She reached into her bag and brought out a business card. "Here." She handed it to me, but I stared at her with anger and confusion.
"I don’t want to see you or talk to you ever again." My tone was firm, but she remained calm.
"Please." Her tone matched mine in firmness, but her eyes held a strange mix of respect and urgency.
I didn’t argue further. I allowed her to slip the card into my pocket, turned, and walked away.
"Charlie! You son of a bitch! What took you so long?" Nancy scolded loudly as I arrived, but I didn’t respond.
Many times I asked myself whether she had changed over time or if love had blinded me into marrying her. As far as I could remember, our marriage was about her using me to serve her needs. Yet, I never objected. Today, like always, I was at her service.
"Sit!" she ordered, and I obeyed.
"Nurse!" A young woman appeared almost instantly. "He's the donor. My mother needs 600ml of blood. Get it drawn immediately," she instructed, then disappeared into the ward.
"600ml of blood?" I was stunned, but this was just the kind of thing Nancy would do for her mother.
She could starve me or slice me to pieces just to save her mom, but I wondered if she would go even half as far for me.
I sat silently as they drew the blood. Soon, I was pale and weak. Nancy didn’t come back to check on me, not even once.
When she finally returned, she didn’t seem to care.
"What's going on here?" a man in a designer suit approached us. He reeked of wealth and carried an aura that was both intoxicating and intimidating.
I knew him—and so did Nancy.
Carl Kidman. Heir to the powerful Kidman family.
"Oh, kind sir, my mother is critically ill and needs help. The doctors are doing their best, but I..." She broke into tears. I watched, stunned.
Was that my wife?
"I assure you, the doctors here are the best. Your mother is in safe hands." Carl patted her back, and she leaned into him—right in front of me.
I knew she was emotional, but I was here—weak and drained—because of her. She should be with me, not in the arms of some rich stranger.
"Thank you, Mr. Kidman. I owe you my life." She clasped his hands.
"Mr. Kidman," the doctor’s voice made them shift.
"Doctor, how’s her mother?"
"She’s out of immediate danger. You don’t have to worry." The doctor smiled, and Nancy beamed—at Carl.
Goosebumps rose on my skin as I watched her flirt shamelessly. Carl noticed me.
He knew I was angry. My pale, sickly condition didn’t hide my resentment. He gave the doctor a subtle signal.
The doctor spared me a glance before looking back at Nancy.
"Although your mother is stable for now, her condition is complicated. Only the Miracle Doctor can perform the surgery she needs."
"Who’s this Miracle Doctor?" Nancy asked, echoing the question already in my mind.
"She’s the finest surgeon around. She’s handled cases more difficult than your mother’s."
"Where can we find her?"
"I’m not sure. She’s elusive. Finding her could take time—and time is not on our side."
Nancy turned tearfully to Carl, and he embraced her again.
"I promise you—I’ll find her and bring her here," he vowed.
"Thank you."
"One more thing," the doctor said, making us all look at him. "She might need more blood." His voice was cold, and I felt instinctively that something was off.
"That won’t be a problem. Charlie here will donate," Nancy declared without hesitation.
"Are you insane? I can barely move, and you want to take more blood from me?" I didn’t raise my voice—I didn’t have the strength. But I tried to stand my ground.
"How dare you talk to me like that? You’ll do exactly what I say!"
"Nurse, take as much as the doctor needs."
"This could kill me, Nancy. Don’t you care?"
"Fine, then. Draw until he’s at the brink of death—but make sure he’s still breathing." She turned her back as the nurses went to work.
"Wait! I’m not feeling well!" I pleaded, but they seemed more afraid of Nancy than they were moved by compassion.
I needed help. I could literally feel life slipping out of me. What should I do?
I needed to call someone—anyone. But who?
I reached weakly into my pocket, fumbling for my phone. I managed to get it out with what little energy I had left, but something else came with it.
A card. A business card.
I remembered where I got it and instinctively wanted to toss it aside.
But something caught my eye.
I paused, took another look.
Boldly printed on the card were the words: SECRETARY OF THE MIRACLE DOCTOR — LINDA SARMAN.
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Chapter 229
The morning begins without warning.There is no official alert sent through the executive channel. No red banner across internal systems. No urgent knock at Charlie’s door.Instead, a quiet call comes through Raiden’s secure line just after eight.“They’re five minutes out,” the voice says.Raiden pauses. “Five minutes?”“Yes.”“No advance team sweep?”“Minimal.”Raiden ends the call and walks quickly down the corridor toward Charlie’s office. He does not run. He does not raise his voice. He simply moves with sharpened focus.Charlie is reviewing a staffing proposal when Raiden steps inside.“We have a visitor,” Raiden says.Charlie does not look up immediately.“Unscheduled?”“Yes.”Charlie closes the file.“Who?”Raiden holds his gaze.“The president.”The words hang in the air without drama.Charlie nods once.“Security?”“Discreet. Limited personnel. He insisted.”Charlie stands.“Then we receive him as a visitor.”Not as a spectacle. Not as a threat.As a visitor.Outside, the mo
Chapter 228
The applause from the summit fades into the usual cycle of commentary, analysis, and then the next urgent headline. Within days, the speech is folded into broader discussions about governance and reform. Panels quote it. Articles reference it. Then the world moves forward.Inside the hospital, the rhythm never changed in the first place.Elena stands at the scrub sink just after dawn, sleeves rolled high, fingers moving with steady precision beneath the running water. The surgical wing smells faintly of antiseptic and coffee. Night staff exchange clipped updates before heading home. Day teams gather charts and tablets.A nurse steps beside her.“You’re on with Dr. Raman for the second case?” the nurse asks.“Yes,” Elena replies, eyes still on her hands. “And I want imaging rechecked before we start.”“It was reviewed at four.”“I know. I want it reviewed again.”The nurse nods. No irritation. Just acknowledgment.Elena finishes scrubbing and moves toward the operating room. Through th
Chapter 227
The letter remains in the drawer.Linda does not touch it the next morning. She wakes before sunrise, lies still for a while, and listens to the quiet of her apartment. The city will start moving soon. Traffic will gather. Notifications will begin their steady pulse.For now, there is only silence.Across the city, Charlie’s schedule begins earlier than usual. The medical summit has drawn researchers, hospital administrators, and policy leaders from across several countries. The conference center hums with layered conversations and restrained ambition.He reviews his notes in a small private room backstage. The folder in his hand is thin. No dramatic slides. No elaborate presentation.Raiden stands near the door, scanning updates on a tablet.“They’re at capacity,” Raiden says. “Overflow rooms are active.”Charlie nods once.“Security?” he asks.“Standard. Nothing unusual.”Charlie closes the folder and sets it on the table.“You could broaden it,” Raiden offers. “Address institutiona
Chapter 226
The draft sits open on Linda’s screen for three days before she types a single word.She does not title it. She does not date it. She only stares at the empty space and listens to the low hum of her apartment at night. The refrigerator cycles on. A car passes below. Somewhere upstairs, a chair scrapes against the floor.She has written statements before. Carefully structured responses. Legal clarifications. Interviews shaped to minimize damage. Those had purpose. Those had direction.This has neither.She begins anyway.Charlie,She stops.The name looks strange alone, without context or title. For years it had been paired with company briefings, strategic decisions, press conferences. It had weight. Authority. Now it is just a word on a blank page.She deletes it.She types again.I don’t know where to begin.That feels honest. She leaves it.The cursor blinks. She watches it as if it might suggest something for her. It does not.I have replayed the last few years more times than I c
Chapter 225
The discovery does not come through gossip or a late night call. It arrives the way most real damage does, quietly and documented.Linda’s attorney asks her to come in early. His voice over the phone is controlled, but thinner than usual.“There’s something you need to see,” he says.She expects another compliance review. Another residual audit tied to the consortium fallout. She dresses carefully, almost formally, as if composure can shape outcomes.The documents are spread across the conference table when she arrives. Printed copies. Highlighted lines. Transfer logs with dates she recognizes.“What is this?” she asks, remaining standing.“Independent forensic accounting,” her attorney replies. “Commissioned after the last round of internal reviews.”She studies the first page. Then the second. Then she sits.Shell companies. Layered ownership. Offshore accounts routed through subsidiaries that once reported to her division.The amounts are not small.“These were processed during my
Chapter 224
Months pass before her voice returns.Not in a press conference. Not through a spokesperson. A single interview, recorded in a studio that looks intentionally plain. Neutral walls. No dramatic lighting. No audience. Just a table, two chairs, and a camera that does not blink.The host is careful. Not hostile. Not sympathetic. Careful.Linda sits upright, hands folded loosely in front of her. She has lost weight. Or maybe it is just the absence of makeup and curated posture. There is no jewelry. No emblem. No badge of authority left to signal who she used to be.The clip surfaces online without warning. A small outlet releases it first. Within hours, larger networks pick it up.In Skydome’s monitoring division, the content filters flag her name. The feed populates automatically. No one alerts Charlie directly. He sees it later on his own.In the interview, the host asks, “Why speak now?”Linda pauses before answering.“Because silence begins to sound like agreement,” she says.“Agreemen
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