Scarlett Norman was in a hotel room near the hospital where she worked, having left the banquet venue earlier that evening.

Tonight was supposed to be her wedding night.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she straightened her clothes and chuckled bitterly, recalling the events of the evening. No one cared where she was, anyway.

Suddenly, the door was kicked open from the outside, crashing against the wall. Before Scarlett could make sense of what was happening, the room went pitch black.

Terrified, she froze, her whole body trembling.

"Who's there?"

Before she could finish her sentence, she was slammed against the wall and then onto the table, scattering items across the floor. She felt a cold gun pressed to her head, and a low voice threatened, "Don't speak. If I hear a word, I’ll shoot."

In the dim light, she could only make out a pair of fierce eyes.

She smelled blood and realized he must be injured. Perhaps it was her instincts or her professionalism as a doctor that helped her stay calm in such a dangerous situation.

She carefully bent her knee, aiming to strike his vulnerable side, but he noticed the movement and clamped her down with force.

"I saw him come this way!" Footsteps approached the door.

In desperation and fearing he’d be discovered, the man lowered his head and kissed her.

Scarlett resisted, trying to push him away, but he didn't use the gun to stop her.

She froze, confused.

Just then, the doorknob turned.

In a split-second decision, Scarlett tilted her head to kiss the man back, wrapping her arms around his neck. She noticed the fear in his eyes despite his intimidating demeanor and realized the men outside were hunting him down.Her voice trembled, but she tried to sound calm. "I can help you escape them."

The man’s reaction was unexpected. She felt his body tense, and his breathing grew heavier. In the next moment, he took control, his hot breath on her ear as he whispered deeply, "I'll take responsibility."

No, he misunderstood. She only wanted to put on a show.

The door creaked open.

She mimicked a sound she had once heard on TV—a soft, alluring moan that seemed to stun both the man and whoever was at the door.

"What the... It’s just a couple making out here," a voice outside muttered in surprise.

The door opened a crack, letting a sliver of light fall across Scarlett.

The man pressed his body against hers, shielding her from view. In the dim light, their intertwined forms appeared passionately entangled.

"That's not Wayne. He’s badly injured. He couldn’t be doing this," another voice said.

"Shut up! We’re doomed if we don’t find Wayne."

Scarlett’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name. Wayne? Her husband’s name? Her mind raced, thinking this might be her absentee husband but why would they be looking for him so she shrugged off the idea.

The footsteps and murmurs gradually faded as the pursuers left.

The man seemed to realize they were safe, but he still didn't move away from her. Instead, he stared at her, his expression intense.

Scarlett pushed him away gently, her thoughts clouded. Just as her hands pressed against his chest, she remembered her marriage.

Her whole life had been controlled by others, including this marriage.

Her father, driven by greed, had forced her into an arranged marriage with Wayne Gray, the grandson of the Gray family patriarch. Her grandfather, who had once served as the family’s butler, had died saving Anthony Gray's life, further indebting her family to them.

Her family business was drowning in debt and on the verge of bankruptcy. Knowing that asking the Grays for financial help would strain their ties, her father devised a plan to marry her off to Wayne. This way, the Norman family would establish a bond with the Grays, binding them through marriage.

But Wayne was opposed to the marriage. He demanded she keep it a secret and continue using her maiden name.

And as if that weren't enough, he hadn’t even shown up at their wedding banquet.

Scarlett had been left alone, humiliated.

Perhaps it was the intimate position she found herself in now, or the surge of defiance she felt bubbling up inside her. Her whole life, others had cast her aside and controlled her choices.

This time, she decided to rebel, to surrender to the moment.

Scarlett didn't resist; she followed his lead, giving herself up in a mix of pain and bittersweet liberation.

Despite his dominance, Scarlett noticed the strain in his movements. His breathing grew heavier, not just from desire but also from the toll of his injury. His hands trembled slightly, and he seemed to pause every so often, as if trying to mask the pain radiating from his side. Scarlett’s gaze briefly flickered to the blood staining his shirt, her mind warring between concern and the intensity of the moment.

He moved with a measured intensity, his body trembling faintly from exertion. Scarlett couldn’t help but notice how he favored one side, careful not to put too much pressure on his injured ribs. "You’re hurt," she murmured softly, but he only silenced her with a look that held equal parts desperation and determination.

As he pulled away, Scarlett noticed his face pale further, his breathing ragged. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage he’d pressed against his side, staining the sheets beneath him. "You shouldn’t have…" she began, but he cut her off with a weak smirk. "Didn’t have a choice," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Afterward, the man kissed her cheek softly, his voice hoarse and deep. "I’ll look for you," he said, then quickly left.

Scarlett lay there for a moment, her body aching from the roughness of the encounter. Just then, her phone rang.

She reached out, and an urgent voice came through. "Dr. Norman, there’s a car accident victim in the emergency center. The injuries are severe. You’re needed urgently."

Scarlett steadied her voice and replied calmly, "I'll be there soon."

After hanging up, she stared blankly at her reflection. The disheveled clothes and the sticky feeling on her skin were proof it hadn’t been a dream. On her wedding night, she had been with a stranger…

But there was no time to dwell on it. She quickly dressed and headed to the emergency center.

It had been a long, exhausting night.

Returning to the duty room, Scarlett found it still in disarray, a stark reminder of the events she’d just endured, She remembered the moment vividly. Before rushing to the surgery, her emotions had spiraled out of control. She’d shoved the files off the desk, sending them flying, and kicked the chair over in a blind fury. Her hands clenched slightly as she tried to push away the memories.

"Dr. Norman, thank you for covering my shift," Belinda Carl said with a smile as she approached.

Scarlett forced a smile. "You’re welcome."

"My business is done, so you can go rest now," Belinda said, though she raised an eyebrow at the mess in the room,noticing Scarlett’s unusually tense demeanor. "Is something wrong?"

Scarlett turned her head, trying to hide the flicker of panic in her eyes. "Since you're here, I'll head out."

Belinda found her behavior strange but didn’t question it.She started tidying up the scattered items on the floor.

Just then, the director appeared at the doorway with Wayne Gray’s assistant, Christopher.

The director introduced Belinda, "This is the doctor who was on duty last night."

Christopher walked in, glanced at Belinda's name badge, and said, "Come with me."

Belinda looked puzzled. "Where are we going?"

"Hurry up," the director urged, giving her no time to ask questions. He pulled her along, adding, "President Gray is waiting."