Chapter 8. The Unforgivable Block
1275 Words
William’s message was met with just two words.
“Not interested,” she said.
Then that world-famous genius blocked him without a second thought.
He tried texting again—one checkmark. He tried calling—straight to voicemail, no ringing.
His smile disappeared. No doubt about it. She blocked him.
“She blocked me?” he muttered, laughing in disbelief.
Right then, Paul, his assistant, walked into the office with a fresh cup of coffee. He’d overheard what William said and glanced at the screen.
He couldn’t hide the shock on his face. Did someone actually just block William?
That had never happened before.
“Sir… she’s definitely something else,” Paul said, trying to lighten the mood.
William chuckled. “Yeah, she really is.”
She was the first person who’d ever dared to block him.
But whatever. If she wasn’t interested, William wasn’t going to force it.
He picked up the coffee and took a sip. Then his face darkened instantly.
Paul noticed the shift. “Is the coffee off, sir? I can make you a new one.”
William didn’t respond.
He was thinking about Grace. Her coffee had always been perfect. Every single time.
Without saying much, he set the cup down and said coldly, “Cut Grace a check for a hundred million. That’s the last part of our divorce.”
Paul nodded. “Right away, sir.”
William still couldn’t believe Grace had left without taking anything.
No degree, no resources. How the hell was she planning to survive?
It had to be an act.
She wanted it to look like she walked away without asking for a dime—but William knew better. It was all a game. She was probably waiting for him to insist she take the money, so she could still look noble and untouchable.
Maybe it was time to put an end to this whole story.
Just then, Paul’s phone rang. He answered, and after a few seconds, his face lit up.
“Sir! Great news. The White Scalpel is back—and she accepted our request!”
William looked up.
“She agreed to operate on Miss Camila,” Paul repeated, more excited this time.
William’s expression eased slightly.
The White Scalpel. A living legend in the medical world.
Billionaires lined up for years to get on her schedule. Then, three years ago, she vanished without a trace.
But now, she was back.
And thanks to William’s power and influence, he’d secured a priority slot.
He gave a faint smile. Camila finally had hope. No doctor had ever been able to handle her condition. They all said the same thing—only the White Scalpel might be able to help. That name wasn’t just a title. In the medical world, she was a miracle worker. A surgical genius. The only one who could pull off the impossible.
—
The next day, Grace arrived at the surgical department.
But just as she stepped inside, a swarm of bodyguards in black stormed the place.
They cleared a path, shoving aside anyone who stood in their way.
Patients, visitors, even hospital staff—they were all ignored.
Two young nurses whispered to each other. “What’s going on?”
“You haven’t heard? Camila—the Rose of San Francisco, the famous ballet dancer—has a heart condition. She collapsed during rehearsal. William’s bringing her to some top specialist.”
Grace froze. She hadn’t expected to run into William and Camila here.
“Look! They’re here!” one of the nurses whispered.
Grace looked up and saw William.
Tall, sharp, powerful. Dressed in a black suit, exuding cold authority with every step.
In his arms, Camila. He carried her like royalty, his gaze steady and protective.
A group of doctors and nurses rushed to greet him.
“Mr. Donovan, right this way.”
William walked past them in silence.
From the crowd, whispers of admiration followed.
“Oh my god… he’s insane. That charisma? That presence? He’s the definition of alpha male.”
“And Camila’s gorgeous. Pale and delicate like a real ballerina… they’re perfect together.”
“Cold CEO and sweet, fragile dancer? This is like a fairytale. I love it.”
What nobody knew was that William and Grace had once been married. In secret. Only a handful of people ever knew.
To the world, William and Camila were the perfect couple.
Grace watched him walk by, not even noticing her. His eyes were only on Camila.
In their fairytale, she was just an extra.
Grace shook herself out of it and headed to Room SVIP 109 like the message had instructed.
She turned down the hall—and froze again.
William was there. With Camila.
And standing beside them… Patrick and Melanie.
Camila was already on the hospital bed, being pampered like a princess, surrounded by her parents.
Patrick beamed, holding her hand. “Camila, this is a miracle. Mr. Donovan actually got you an appointment with the White Scalpel.”
Melanie’s eyes welled with tears as she gently fixed Camila’s hair. “Sweetheart, you’ve suffered enough. But everything’s going to be okay now. Once she operates on you, you can finally marry William and have the peaceful life you deserve.”
Camila turned to William with a glowing smile.
It was perfect. A picture of the ideal family. Warm. Harmonious. Flawless.
Outside the room, Grace had no idea the patient Liam had recommended her to treat… was Camila.
Her whole body tensed. Her throat went dry. Her eyes burned. For a split second, she had a dark impulse.
But hurting Camila? Not worth it. Her career mattered too much to throw away over someone like that. Camila was nothing. Not worth the fallout.
Right then, William looked up—and his eyes locked on Grace.
Without saying a word, he stepped out of the room and walked straight toward her.
“Grace, what are you doing here?”
His voice was cold. Accusatory. Which made sense—Grace hadn’t put on her white coat yet. No name tag. No ID. Just her and her bag. To anyone, she looked like some random person who wandered into Camila’s room.
“I was just—”
She didn’t even get to finish before he cut her off. “You following me?”
She stared, caught off guard by the accusation. “No,” she said quietly. Her voice calm. But it was clear William didn’t believe her.
Behind him, Melanie and Patrick were now watching too.
Melanie stiffened. Her voice sharpened. “Grace! Why are you here? We worked so hard to get Camila in with the best surgeon in the world, and now you show up to cause drama?”
Patrick added, irritated, “Grace, you’re being childish again. Today is important for Camila. You should leave.”
Camila didn’t say a word. She just sat there, staring at Grace with a cold, condescending look—like she didn’t even deserve to be acknowledged.
William didn’t give Grace a chance to respond. He stepped in and grabbed her wrist.
His grip was cold and tight. His eyes were sharp, jaw clenched with anger.
“Still playing the innocent one, huh? Not tired of the drama yet? After all that divorce nonsense, now you’re following me here too?”
Strangely, there was something satisfied in his expression.
“Don’t waste my time. Leave.”
Grace yanked her arm away, eyes blazing.
“You think I came here for you? Don’t flatter yourself, William. Someone asked me to come. But now I’m seriously not interested.”
Patrick scoffed.
“That’s enough, Grace.”
- Writer
