Chapter 1
Iris’s Pov
The airport doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and cold afternoon air wrapped around me like a welcome.
I stepped out onto the pavement, rolling my suitcase behind me as the familiar chaos of arrivals unfolded around me—people hugging, taxis honking, flight announcements echoing faintly from inside the terminal.
I smiled without thinking.
Airports always made me happy.
Everywhere you looked, there was a story.
A reunion.
A goodbye.
A beginning.
A little boy ran past me chasing a balloon that had slipped from his sister’s hand. His mother followed behind, laughing breathlessly as she tried to catch him.
I crouched slightly as he ran by.
“Careful there, little pilot,” I said with a grin.
The boy giggled before racing back to his mother.
Further ahead, near the edge of the parking area, a thin boy sat beside a pillar with a small paper cup in front of him.
His clothes were worn, his eyes tired in a way no child’s eyes should ever be.
I paused.
Then I opened the tote bag hanging from my shoulder and pulled out the sandwich I had grabbed from the airport café earlier.
“Hey,” I said gently, crouching beside him.
His eyes flickered up, cautious.
“You hungry?”
The hesitation lasted only a second before he nodded.
I placed the sandwich in his hand.
“Eat slowly,” I told him softly. “Your stomach will thank you.”
His smile—small but real—felt better than any thank-you.
I stood up again, pulling the handle of my suitcase as I headed toward the parking lot.
My car was somewhere in row C, if my memory hadn’t completely betrayed me.
Just as I reached into my bag for the keys, my phone began vibrating.
The screen lit up.
Lucy. My Assistant.
I sighed.
This could only mean trouble.
Balancing my suitcase with one hand and my tote bag on the other shoulder, I answered the call.
“Yes, Lucy,” I said, already bracing myself.
“What bad news do you have for me now?”
On the other end, Lucy inhaled sharply.
“Ma’am... that... I—”
“Lucy.” I shifted the bag slipping from my shoulder. “Breathe. Then speak.”
“I... mistakenly scheduled your appointment with Mrs. Calder for today... instead of tomorrow.”
I stopped walking.
Completely froze.
For a second, I simply stared at the asphalt beneath my shoes.
“You did what?” I asked slowly.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Lucy rushed out. “I swear it was a mistake. I was updating the calendar and—”
I closed my eyes.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Everything is fine.
You do not panic.
You cannot panic.
After a few steady breaths, I opened my eyes again.
“What time do I have to get there?” I asked calmly.
Lucy hesitated.
“In... an hour.” she mumbled.
“Lucy.”
Her voice shrank. “In an hour.”
I checked my watch.
If traffic behaved like a civilized member of society for once, it might just be possible.
“Fine,” I said, already pulling my car keys from my bag. “Send me the location.”
“O-okay, ma’am.”
“And Lucy?”
“Yes?”
“Calm down,” I said with a small smile she obviously couldn’t see. “I’ve got you, darling.”
A deep breath escaped from the other end of the call—the kind someone releases when they’ve been holding their lungs hostage for too long.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I ended the call and continued toward my car.
One hour.
Apparently, my first day back in the city haddecided to start with chaos.
Perfect.
I adjusted the strap of my bag and headed toward the parking lot, dragging my suitcase behind me.
The rain had stopped not long ago, but the ground still carried its aftermath.
The asphalt was dark and glossy, puddles gathered along the edges of the road, and muddy water clung stubbornly to the curb.
Typical.
I stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the first lane carefully.
A car rushed past in front of me, tires hissing against the wet road.
I stopped in the middle lane, waiting for the next gap in traffic.
Then it happened.
A black car sped past.
Too close.
Too fast.
The wheel sliced straight through a muddy puddle.
Splash.
Cold, dirty water exploded upward—soaking my jeans, my coat, and half my suitcase.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Stunned.
“What the—!”
The car was already speeding away.
“Are you blind?!” I shouted after it, my voice echoing across the road.
The vehicle didn’t slow.
Of course it didn’t.
I looked down at myself.
Mud streaked my clothes like some kind of tragic modern art experiment.
My hands clenched into fists.
“Calm down,” I muttered under my breath.
“In... and out.”
“Everything is fine.”
“Just breathe.”
I closed my eyes for a second, forcing my shoulders to relax.
When I opened them again, headlights appeared in front of me.
The same black car.
It had taken a U-turn.
It rolled to a stop on the other side of the lane, directly in front of me.
The driver’s door opened immediately.
A man in his mid-thirties stepped out, looking like someone had just informed him the world was ending.
“I—I’m so sorry, miss!” he blurted out before I could even say anything. “I didn’t see the puddle—I was just—uh—in a hurry and—”
He ran a hand through his hair, panic practically dripping from his voice.
“I’m really, really sorry.”
Some of my anger drained away instantly.
It’s very difficult to stay furious at someone who looks like they might start crying from guilt.
“Well,” I said with a small shrug, “you should be more careful.”
The man nodded quickly, relief flooding his face.
But before he could say anything else—
The back window of the car slid down.
And a man appeared.
No.
Not just a man.
A very handsome man.
Dark sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose.
As the glass lowered, I caught the first glimpse of sharp cheekbones and a perfectly cut jawline.
His shoulders were broad, filling the frame of the car door even while seated.
Then he removed the glasses.
And time... paused.
His eyes were striking—dark, intense, the kind that looked like they had seen far too much and trusted far too little.
For a brief moment, those eyes met mine.
And everything else disappeared.
Then he opened his mouth.
And ruined every single point his face had just scored.
“Give her some money,” he said flatly.
His gaze moved away from me and settled on the driver standing beside the car.
“And drive. I’m getting late. Izza must be waiting.”
My blood boiled instantly.
The driver hurriedly pulled out his wallet.
“Stop.”
The word came out sharp enough to cut glass.
Both men looked at me.
“I don’t want your money,” I said, stepping closer.
The handsome stranger’s expression didn’t change.
Not even a little.
He simply watched me.
Silent.
Calm.
Annoyingly calm.
“I got splashed with mud,” I continued, crossing my arms. “Not hit by a truck.”
Silence.
He tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was a mildly interesting problem.
“You seem upset,” he said.
That was it.
That was the entire response.
My eye twitched.
“Well spotted,” I snapped.
The driver looked like he desperately wanted to disappear.
“Next time,” I continued, glaring directly at the man in the back seat, “maybe don’t treat people like they’re an inconvenience.”
His gaze flickered briefly over my mud-stained clothes.
Then back to my face.
“Miller.” he said to the man standing in front of me.
The man immediately stiffened.
“Let’s go.”
My jaw dropped.
“Oh no, we’re not done here!”
For the first time, a faint expression crossed his face. Something between boredom and mild curiosity.
“You’re delaying me.”
“Delaying—?” I let out a laugh of disbelief. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize you were in such a hurry to meet your girlfriend.”
I folded my arms.
“Izza, was it?”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Not angry.
Just... assessing.
Then he muttered something under his breath.
“Stupid girl.”
I stared at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a doctor,” I snapped.
His gaze traveled slowly from my muddy shoes... to my soaked jeans... to my splattered coat.
Then back to my face.
“Patient,” he said calmly.
“You’d suit it better.”
Before I could respond, the driver practically jumped back into the car.
The window slid up.
And the black car pulled away, disappearing down the road.
Leaving me standing in the middle of the lane.
Soaked.
Furious.
And somehow even later than I already was.
I stared after the car.
“Unbelievable.”
Then I grabbed my suitcase again and muttered,
“God help the poor soul who has to deal with that man every day.”
———————
I pulled my car to a stop in front of the Calder residence and turned off the engine.
For a moment, I just sat there.
Then I stepped out and looked around.
And immediately noticed the guards.
Not one.
Not two.
A lot of them.
They stood near the gate, along the perimeter walls, and even near the front driveway like silent statues in dark suits.
My brows lifted.
What is this place—a war zone?
Clutching my tote bag, I walked toward the entrance.
Before I could even reach the steps, one of the guards approached me.
“Dr. Sterling?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Yeah,” I said with a small smile. “That’ll be me.”
“ID?”
“Oh—oh, yeah. ID.” I immediately began patting my pockets. “That’s in my—wait a minute.”
For a second I thought I had lost it.
Then my fingers brushed the plastic card.
“Yep. Here it is,” I said, holding it up triumphantly.
The guard inspected it for a moment, his expression serious.
Then he nodded.
“Please.”
He gestured for me to follow him.
I did, as he led me across the driveway toward a massive wooden door that looked like it belonged to a royal palace.
He rang the bell and then turned to me.
“I shall leave you here.”
And just like that, he walked away.
I stared after him.
“What is happening?” I muttered under my breath.
Am I in some mafia fantasy novel?
I sighed and turned back toward the door just as it swung open.
My eyes widened.
A man stood there.
Red... was spread all over his shirt.
For a split second my brain screamed blood.
Then I noticed the spatula in his hand.
Ketchup.
Lots of ketchup.
Still.
With the messy hair, intense stare, and red stains splattered across his shirt, he looked exactly like one of those suspiciously attractive killers from crime movies.
Before I could say anything, a voice drifted from somewhere behind him.
Soft.
Elegant.
Yet somehow sharp.
“Ivar, who is it?”
The man stepped aside.
And suddenly she appeared.
A woman in a flowing yellow dress walked into view, sunlight catching in her dark hair.
She was breathtakingly beautiful in a way that felt effortless.
She saw me and smiled instantly.
“Dr. Sterling?”
“Mrs. Calder?” I asked carefully, gripping the strap of my tote bag.
“Call me Seraphina,” she said warmly.
Her gaze dropped to my clothes.
I followed it.
Mud.
Everywhere.
Heat rushed up my cheeks.
“Seems like you had quite the welcome,” she teased gently.
She took my hand before I could even respond and pulled me inside.
“Yeah... I guess you could say that,” I muttered.
I grimaced.
“Met an asshole on my way here.”
Seraphina laughed.
“Oh, this place is filled with assholes.”
Her eyes drifted toward the man standing near the kitchen.
“What?” he protested, throwing a hand dramatically into the air. “I’m trying to make shakshuka here. Do you know how delicate this is? How can you be so heartless?”
Seraphina turned to me with a grin.
“That’s my husband. Ivar.”
I smiled.
Ivar rolled his eyes.
“She’s my wife,” he said, walking over and slipping an arm around her waist. “And she’s extremely heartless.”
Seraphina smacked his chest lightly.
“Oh shutup.”
Then she looked back at me.
“Please, sit down.”
I hesitated.
Then glanced down at myself again.
Mud.
Water.
Airport disaster chic.
I took a small breath.
“Um... do you mind if I use a bathroom first?” I asked, gesturing toward my clothes.
Seraphina gasped.
“Oh my God, of course! I’m so dumb—I should have asked immediately.”
She grabbed my hand again.“Come with me.”
And before I could even process what was happening, she was already pulling me down the hallway.
