Aaron stretched out his long hand forward when he saw Karen's staggering body falling toward him.
"Nice catch," he praised himself.
He glanced at the beads of sweat on Karen's forehead and flinched when he felt the heat radiating from her body. Without another word, he carried Karen to the car.
"To the hospital," he ordered as he placed Karen's body on the other side of the car.
His eyes lingered on the bandage around her hand with curiosity. Aaron leaned closer, grabbed her injured hand, and carefully unwrapped the bandage. His brows furrowed at the sight of blood, then he tore off the rest quickly.
His eyes widened at how bad her hand was. Blood streamed out, soaking the bandage, while the bone visibly protruded. His brows knitted sharply. "Faster. We have a problem here."
The driver hit the accelerator, slicing through traffic until they reached the nearest hospital. Aaron emerged first, Karen draped across his shoulders like a burden. Half of her hair shadowed her face as he strode inside.
He supported her with one arm while slipping his free hand into his coat pocket, pulling out his phone.
"I'm at Yamagi Hospital. I need a surgeon and an orthopedic doctor. Right now."
Aaron listened to the response on the other end, his expression darkening. "Then tell the hospital director—if he doesn't show up in front of me within five minutes, I'll raze this building to the ground."
He glanced left and right before pocketing his phone again. He grabbed the arm of a passing nurse. "Hey, you. There's a patient here."
The nurse looked at Karen. "Is she sick?"
"Obviously. Where's the doctor?"
The nurse led them toward the ER, but Aaron refused coldly.
"Can't you see the state of her hand? Take her straight to the ICU," he said flatly.
"But we have to examine her first and decide whether ICU is necessary—"
"Fine. Do that. But then I'll make sure you're transferred to some remote village clinic for the rest of your life."
The nurse looked at unconscious Karen, then back at Aaron, before deciding to take them to ICU. He followed without a word, letting her be laid on the bed as the nurse prepared equipment. She peeled away the bandage, freezing at the sight.
Aaron's voice cut through, cold. "I need a doctor. Now."
His phone rang. Aaron picked up immediately, eyes fixed on the nurse now peeling off the last strip of cloth from Karen's hand.
"Where are you?"
"ICU," he snapped before hanging up. He placed both hands on the bed's edge as Karen's breathing came in short gasps.
He placed his hands on the edge of the bed, watching her short, ragged breaths.
Outside, the hospital director and doctors ran scans, assessing the damage. Aaron's gaze was sharp, patient but lethal. Soon, an elderly man stepped out, looking hesitant, making Aaron raise a brow.
"What is it? Speak."
"Well, according to the report, the patient had a previous fracture."
"And?"
"Which should have healed completely in a month or so. But her current hand condition…" the doctor shook his head.
Aaron folded his arms impatiently, his eyes sharp.
"Can you fix it?"
"Of course, but—"
"I only accept yes or no."
"Yes. We can fix it," the man replied quickly.
Aaron nodded with satisfaction. "Then do it. Money is not a problem. Restore her hand to what it was."
The man darted his eyes left and right until Aaron added, "Or maybe I should take her to another hospital."
The man jerked his head up in alarm. "We can. We'll repair it exactly as before."
"Good," Aaron replied curtly.
***
"As I said, I don't care how you do it. I only care about the result. If you can't handle the operation, just say so." Aaron's voice was sharp as the doctor prepared to enter the operating room.
The hospital director himself intervened, taking over. "I'll do it. Her hand will return to normal without a trace."
"Do it."
Aaron turned to Ken, who had just arrived beside him. When Ken heard Aaron was at the hospital, he thought something had happened to him, so he drove over immediately.
But Aaron was fine. Relief left Ken's lips in a sigh. "I'll cancel your dinner with Inspector Yaro," Ken said, pulling out his phone.
Aaron's large hand covered the screen. "No need. The dinner goes on."
Ken frowned deeply. "But isn't Karen in surgery?"
"So?" Aaron asked casually, almost bored.
"You're not going to wait for her?"
Aaron scoffed. "She's just a worthless woman. Why should I?"
"But her condition worsened because of you."
"If she had entered my car properly, her hand wouldn't be injured."
Ken blinked in disbelief as Aaron continued, his next line lands like a verdict. "That woman inside—she's the same as any other. Why should I treat her as special?She's disposable. Broken toys bore me. Better to discard."
"I thought it was because you wanted her?" Ken guessed.
Aaron smirked coldly. "That's only if she isn't damaged. I don't want a broken toy." He clapped Ken's shoulder as he walked away. "You stay here. Don't bother updating me on her condition."
"What if something happens?" Ken called after him.
Aaron halted, glanced back, and said flatly, "Just give her compensation." Then he walked off, calm as a closed grave.
Ken couldn't believe what he'd heard. He watched, stunned by how small a human life could be to this man. He knew Aaron was cunning, but this was beyond cold—like a demon had consumed his entire heart.
***
White… everything was white. That was Karen's first thought when she opened her eyes. She blinked several times, focusing on one spot. She knew where she was, she just didn't know why she was here—or who brought her.
The answer came back to her as she looked at her hand, now wrapped in a cast. She knew she must have fainted in front of Aaron. Which meant he likely brought her here.
The door opened and a young man stepped in with a gentle smilesoft-footed and polite. "You're awake?"
"Who are you?" Karen asked, wary.
"Ah, I'm Aaron's assistant. My name is Ken." He bowed politely with a smile, careful.
"Why was I brought here?" Karen asked coldly. She hated owing anyone. She hated it even more when that debt was to him. And she could only imagine how much a room like this cost per night.
Ken chuckled softly. "My boss felt sorry for worsening your condition. So he brought you here, he felt.... responsible," he said, cautious like someone approaching a sleeping beast.
"Hard to believe that man has a heart. I don't need this room. I'm leaving."
"But you just had surgery," Ken said, alarmed.
"This room is too expensive for me to afford." Karen muttered, starting to pull out her IV.
The door opened again, and a tall figure strode in with long steps and immediate. Within seconds, Aaron was at her side, gripping her hand before she could move.
Karen glanced at his hand, then quickly turned her head, startled eyes meeting his cold gaze. She narrowed her eyes and tried to pull away, but failed.
"Ken, leave us," Aaron ordered without looking away from her.
The door closed behind them.
"Let go," Karen spat as soon as they were alone.
Aaron had arrived just in time to catch her trying to escape. He had expected it, but still found it absurd how reckless she was—so careless with her own health.
"I'll let go if you stay here." His voice was flat, the choice implied.
"If you don't want that smug face of yours bruised, let go." She met him eye to eye.
Their eyes locked, one defiant, the other ice-cold. Silence stretched, thorny and dangerous for minutes until Aaron finally shoved her uninjured hand away harshly, rough and exact.
Karen tried ripping her IV out again, but Aaron grabbed her roughly, making her wince. Impatient, he pulled her out of the room.
"Let me go! What right do you have to touch me?!" she screamed.
Karen struggled, but Aaron dragged her through the hospital corridors toward the reception.
"Let go!" she growled.
He ignored the plea and dragged her down the corridor, emptied bystanders parting like tides. He threw her out onto the asphalt with the same detached force as setting down an object.
"What the hell do you want?!" Karen shouted when she managed to stand, standing on shaking legs to be exact.
Aaron arrogantly stood there, one brow raised, after shoving her onto the asphalt. "You wanted out, didn't you? You asked to leave. Here." He shrugged, cold. "We're outside."
"By throwing me?! You thrown me out?!" Karen asking, again.
"You can't be reasoned with." He raised a hand dismissively, waving her off like a stray animal. "Go. Back to where you came from."
For the first time in her life, Karen felt a violent urge to kill someone. Something snapped in Karen—pride, fury, shame. Something snapped in Karen—pride, fury, shame. Karen knew money was important, but she never realized it could give someone the power to crush another's dignity.
Her pride refused to take it. She stepped forward, leaped at him, and slammed her forehead against his. Aaron staggered, took the hit, hand to his temple, eyes flaring with something like interest and annoyance.
She staggered back from the pain, but it was worth it when Aaron also clutched his head, surely bruised.
Karen glared at him in disgust. "If you think you can humiliate me, you're dead wrong."
Aaron rubbed his forehead, eyes burning as he met her glare. "Savage girl," he said, and grabbed her again, dragging her inside, ignoring the shocked faces watching while Karen fought him every step.
Aaron stopped before a doctor. "Transfer her to the third-class ward."
"What?"
"You heard me. Now."
He turned back, meeting Karen's furious gaze with a cold smile.
"Since you don't want me to treat you like a princess, then I'll treat you like a servant."