A young woman dressed in a crisp white doctor's coat had just arrived at an exquisite and luxurious Mediterranean mansion, She was strikingly beautiful, with slightly curly ginger hair that cascaded over her shoulders, complementing her bright eyes. The mansion, with its grand archways and elegant stonework, exuded luxury and charm.
As soon as she stepped inside the grand foyer, adorned with complex mosaics and elegant chandeliers, she was greeted by a faint sound of a commotion coming from upstairs. The clatter of objects being knocked over was followed by a stern, angry shout
"Get out!"
The shout was raw—furious enough to freeze her in place.
Moments later, three nurses and a doctor rushed down the staircase, their faces ashen and clearly disturbed, as if fleeing from danger. One of the nurses, with red and swollen eyes, wiped away tears from her cheeks, her hands quivering. The doctor appeared displeased, suggesting the seriousness of the situation they had just departed from.
Behind them followed a woman who carried herself with effortless authority. She was both elegant and striking, dressed in black leather trousers and a fitted jacket, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. Her hairstyle featured a sleek side-swept bob that framed her face perfectly. She looked early fifties
"I'm terribly sorry," the woman called out after them, "Please forgive my son's behavior. He tends to act impulsively."
The doctor, with a gentle smile replied, "It's perfectly fine, Mrs. Ashford; I truly understand."
"You did everything you could, and I'm grateful for that." said Mrs. Ashford
The doctor's eyes softened and he smiled. "Thank you for your understanding, Cane. It means a lot to me."
Mrs. Ashford gestured towards the hallway. "Let me walk you out. Once again, I'm truly sorry for all the inconveniences."
As they descended the grand staircase, their footsteps echoing softly, Mrs. Ashford's gaze landed on the guest at the entrance.
"Dr. Whittemore," she said, eyes lighting up. "What an honor for you to accept my request."
She crossed the distance and embraced her warmly, dimples appearing as she smiled.
"Oh, Mrs. Ashford, please," Whittemore replied softly, returning the hug. "The honor is all mine."
At the sound of her name, the departing nurses froze.
"Wait," one of them whispered. "Did she say… Whittemore?"
The doctor turned sharply, disbelief written across his face. "As in Dr Samantha Whittemore?"
"It's really you," another nurse said breathlessly. "You trained half our department."
The doctor stepped forward, visibly impressed. "dr. Whittemore," he said, stepping forward. "It's an honor meeting you I am Dr William cane.".
"Dr. William Cane, I have always wanted to meet what beautiful luck i have run into," she said with a smile.
He smiled, clearly pleased. "oh I am the lucky one, I've always wanted to meet the young beautiful woman the town talks about who achieved such achievements at 27 years is it."
"Oh Dr cane it's no big deal" said Dr Whittemore
"Ooh it is, wait till you meet my daughter" Dr. cane turned to Mrs. Ashford. "You've entrusted your son in the right hands."
Then back to Mrs. Whittemore. "I wish we met in difference circumstances; I don't want to waste your time now I should leave."
He extended his hand. She took it firmly.
"Good luck," he said, she smiled, he turned to Mrs., Ashford "Farewell, ladies."
"Safe travels, Doctor," she said. "And thank you."
Mrs. Ashford turned to her quietly.
"We can reschedule for tomorrow, if you wish," she said. "I would understand."
Dr. Whittemore smiled calmly.
"Oh, Mrs. Ashford—he will have to bear with me. I'm rescheduling nothing."
Mrs. Ashford studied her, then smiled.
"I like you."
Dr Whittemore returned the smile. "I'll take that as a good start."
They began up the stairs together.
"I hope this goes well," Mrs. Ashford said after a moment. "I've done everything—hired everyone I know. I've brought the best specialists money can buy into this house," she said. "Psychiatrists, nurses, therapists… none of them stay. You're my last hope. No more doctors are willing to come after hearing about his… attitude."
"You don't need to worry," Whittemore replied evenly. "I promise you—everything will be fine."
At the end of the corridor, a young maid approached them, dark hair braided neatly down her back, a small trash bin in hand.
"Good afternoon," the maid said softly.
"Good afternoon," Whittemore answered, her voice warm.
"What is he doing" asked Mrs. Ashford to the maid "grand ma is helping Mr. Ashford with his lunch" said the maid "ok go on Esther" said Ashford they reached the room at the end of the corridor and Mrs. Ashford opened the door "come in" Whittemore paused at the door, took a slow breath, and briefly touched the small necklace at her chest then entered
entering the room Whittemore looked around the vast, clean muscular room, it was dim and the curtains were down, though luxurious the room looked boring she thought to herself. Then came the voice she heard earlier again.
"I thought I was clear," he said coldly. "No more nurses or doctors, dear mother."
Whittemore turned toward the far side of the room. A small dining table was there. A man sat in a wheelchair beside it, tall and broad-shouldered despite the paralysis that held most of his body still. His black hair was long, uncombed, falling into his eyes. A full beard shadowed his face as he stared down at an untouched plate.
Beside him sat an older, thick-set woman with her hair in a neat bun, a maid's apron tied carefully around her waist. She smiled warmly at their entrance.
Mrs. Ashford ignored her son's remark entirely.
"Meet Donathan Ashford," she said calmly, "my second son." "Nathan—this is Dr Samantha Whittemore, also a registered nurse and physiotherapist, she is the CMO of Rada Hospital."
Donathan's jaw tightened. "I don't care who she is."
Whittemore arched a brow.
The maid glanced at her with interest. "It's nice to meet you, Dr Whittemore."
"And you too,,," Whittemore "maria just call me maria" said the lady with a smile "I will also love it if you call me Samantha, please" said Samantha looking at Mrs. Ashford too. Maria raised "let me bring something for Dr Whittemore" said maria "Samantha, and that won't be n.." said Samantha "I don't take no for an answer" said maria and left.
Samantha approached Donathan, who hadn't bothered to lift his head to acknowledge her. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Ashford. I look forward to working with you," she said, extending her hand. He gripped his fork tightly, his jaw clenched in anger, sharply raised his head to give her a dead back off stare only to be knocked off guard by what his eyes met, both were taken back and for a moment they got lost in each other
Samantha noticed that Donathan had strikingly captivating eyes, a rarity she had never encountered before, despite having seen many attractive men. His thick, sharp eyebrows, his lips. Every line of his face and every small expression had a natural, almost dangerous charm that kept her staring. Even his anger seemed to make him more attractive, turning him into a picture of wild beauty she couldn't look away from.
Donathan thought She had a captivating beauty that was truly unique and felt almost unearthly. Her charm was undeniable, with a gentle magnetism that was hard to ignore. Her eyes held a certain magic, and the way her gaze lingered quietly drew him in, making it impossible for him to look away. Her gaze seemed to cast a spell, making everything in him feel more vibrant and alive. He felt an unusual sensation in his chest that he disliked. His expression grew more intense with anger as he swallowed hard and looked away. "I don't need anyone," he replied coldly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ashford," Samantha said, voice steady, unwavering. "But you're not the one to decide if you need anyone or not. I am going… nowhere."
Donathan's eyes narrowed, cold and piercing. According to his memory, no one—especially no doctor—had ever dared speak to him like that, or look at him so directly. He hated it.
Samantha didn't flinch under his stare. She turned away, deliberately ignoring the heat of his gaze. And also to avoid getting lost in his eyes she had to be professional and avoid locking eyes with him for long.
Downstairs, a good-looking man of medium height entered. Dressed in a nurse uniform of a different pink shade that accentuated his fit physique, he carried two large bags. Esther was arranging some flowers when her eyes fell upon the most captivating man she had ever seen. She froze, breath catching. He was effortlessly captivating and he was walking towards her.
"Hello there," he greeted with a charming, flirty smile, causing her to blush instantly. "I'm Luka, here to assist Nurse Samantha. Do you mind showing me where she is?"
"I'm Esther," she said, still blushing. "No problem. Come this way."
Back in the room, Samantha was providing Mrs. Ashford Donathan with a new schedule and meal plans. "Since I'm in charge now, Mr. Ashford, things will be done my way, and many changes are coming. I heard you dislike light and have been in this dark room for almost a year…" Samantha began
"Don't touch the curtains," he growled, low and threatening.
"You need light," Samantha continued, stepping closer. "The morning sun, especially. This darkness is affecting your health. From now on, these curtains will be open."
Jonathan's jaw tightened, knuckles whitening as he stared daggers at her. she moved toward the curtains.
Samantha inhaled, steadying herself, then pulled them open. A shaft of sunlight spilled into the room. She could feel his fury radiating across the space. Even Mrs. Ashford felt it.
"Put them back. Now. And leave," he said, his voice low and icy. He looked away, shielding his eyes from the light.
Samantha moved to the other curtains. Before she could finish, Donathan's hand—his working hand—swept the dining table aside in a single, furious motion.
"I said leave!" he shouted, his voice thundering across the room.
They all flinched, fear and shock written on their faces. A tense silence followed.
Donathan's glare landed back on Samantha, fury burning hotter than ever. He failed to notice his mother's silent tears cascading down her cheeks, fueled by her own anger. "Enough, Nathan," she snapped, and Jonathan felt a pang of hurt as he saw his mother's distress; he instinctively turned away to hide his face. "I am so tired, Nathan… Do you have any idea how hard I am trying for you?" she implored. "Every single day, I long to see you back on your feet, reclaiming your life."
"I've brought in the best doctors and nurses. I've done everything imaginable… yet you continue to push everyone and everything away."
"You've shut us all out. It breaks my heart, Nathan. The pain is beyond words… seeing you live in anger, darkness, and despair."
"You need to let go of the past and what happened, Nathan. I want my son back… and I won't stop until I have him. Samantha is not going anywhere, and you will listen to everything she has to say." She scolded him, gazing intently at him. Overwhelmed by emotion, she sank into a chair, and Samantha rushed to console her. "I'm so sorry for that. Please, please tell me you're not leaving," Jonathan's mother pleaded.
"Of course not. I keep my promises; I won't leave. Trust me, Mrs. Ashford, I've faced much more intimidating men than him," Samantha reassured her, offering comfort. Jonathan had never seen his mother snap like that or display such vulnerability, . And it was all because of this new nurse. He clenched his hand, a mix of anger and something else stirring inside him. He would do… something about her.
"I need some fresh air," Mrs. Ashford said, dabbing at her tears and standing slowly.
Samantha rubbed her back gently. "Please, take care" she said. "if you need anything, don't hesitate to tell me." Said Mrs. Ashford
"Of course," Samantha replied with a small smile and left.
As she stepped into the hallway, she collided with Luka, knocking the bags and papers from her hands.
"Oh! I'm so sorry," Luka said, scrambling to help pick everything up.
"Sorry, too—I didn't see where I was going," Mrs. Ashford said, straightening.
She looked up at him. Luka froze, completely at a loss for words.
"Ah… hello… I—I'm Luka," he stuttered, still gawking.
"And I give birth to you, so stop staring, child, before I throw you out of this house," Mrs. Ashford said sharply, though her eyes twinkled with amusement.
"I'm sorry… I didn't—" Luka began.
"You should be," she interrupted with a pointed glance, then walked on, leaving him blinking in stunned silence.
Luka watched her retreat, and turned to enter the room.
A knock on the door.
"Dr Sam!" he called.
"Luka, come in," Samantha said. She stepped forward to help him with the luggage.
"It's fine, Dr Sam. I don't work out for nothing," he said with a confident grin.
"Of course, Luka. I can see that," Samantha replied, amused.
He glanced around and froze at the sight of Jonathan, still seated, the room showing signs of chaos from earlier.
"Mr. Ashford," Luka said cautiously, stepping forward, "I've heard… a lot about you. I'm Luka, your new helper. It's an honor to assist you."
Jonathan didn't even look at him. Luka extended his hand anyway, which Jonathan ignored completely.
Feeling awkward, Luka took a small step back. "Right… well, I'll… get started, then," he muttered,.