The Billionaire's Savage Love (English)

The sun sank behind the City of Wolfsburg. The richest City in country G, spilling gold across the sky and stretching shadows along the hospital walls. Carter Schmidt stood by the window, watching the last light fade. The smell of antiseptic clung to him, sharp and stubborn, fighting the warmth waiting outside. The hospital always felt like a cage—bright, spotless, and tight around the chest. He saved lives here. Yes, but at what cost? But every shift took something from him in return. Sometimes, he just thinks about what had happened to him. It was his dream. No it wasn't. It was his mom's dream for him. He had fulfilled the dream of becoming a doctor because of her. When she comes back she will surely be proud of him. Yet so many years had passed no news from her, not even a shadow shown—didn't even bother writing to him. He slipped off his white coat. The motion was slow, heavy, like his body was running on habit instead of energy. Some days, he wasn’t sure who he was without these walls around him. His phone buzzed, loud in the quiet room. He glanced at the screen. A name appeared. Dave. A friend who used to run beside him after school. His high school buddy. A smile pulled at his mouth before he could stop it. The first real one all day. “Hey, man,” Carter said, the edge in his voice easing. “Long time.” Dave’s voice came through loud and careless, just like always. “I’m in town. Let’s grab a drink. I’m close.” Carter let out a sigh. “Yeah. That sounds perfect. Ten minutes.” He grabbed his jacket and keys. The door shut behind him, and the night wrapped around him like a reset. Cool air. The smell of fuel and asphalt. Distant traffic. He breathed deep. No alarms. No pagers. Just space. He drove with no real direction at first, letting the city lights blur past. His shoulders dropped. His jaw loosened. For the first time in hours, he felt like himself again. The bar appeared ahead—neon lights flashing, bright and restless. The parking lot was packed. Cars crowded together, headlights glaring. Carter circled once. Then again. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. That calm he’d found? Already slipping. “Come on,” he muttered. Just as a spot opened, another car cut in and took it. “Seriously?” Carter said under his breath. The driver leaned out, laughing. “Too slow, buddy.” Carter looked away. He’d dealt with worse in the ER. Still, the frustration sat heavily in his chest. That familiar feeling of being one step behind, no matter how hard he tried. He drove a little farther and finally spotted a narrow space. Barely enough—but it would do. He eased the car in, letting out a quiet breath when it fit. No victory. Just relief. Inside, the bar throbbed with noise. Music pounding. Glasses clinking. People moving like nothing else in the world mattered. Dave spotted him right away and waved, his grin easy and genuine. The kind that said, You made it. Carter walked toward him, hands in his pockets, with I bothered stride—like nothing in the world could touch him. Then he stopped. Hi gazed snagged. A woman sat alone in the corner. She wasn’t dancing or laughing. Just sitting there, staring into space, her drink untouched. Not sad. Not smiling. Just distant. Quiet in a room that refused to be. Neon lights cut across her face—red, blue, shadow. Her foot tapped softly, off-beat. The kind of small detail Carter always noticed. A sign of something restless underneath. He didn’t move for a second, like a brief spark froze him in place and his feet felt glued to the floor. Didn’t know why. She felt like a disruption. Something out of place that demanded attention. Dave laughed, snapping him back. Drinks came. Stories followed. The night rolled on. Still, Carter’s eyes kept drifting back to the corner. She was gone. His phone buzzed. He stared at it before answering, eyes still fixed on the empty space she’d left. He stepped outside, phone in hand. Cold air hit his face—and froze. It's her. Leaning against his car. Swaying slightly. Her eyes were unfocused, glossy, like she wasn’t fully present. When she tried to walk again she lost her balance. “Hey,” Carter said, already moving toward her. “Are you okay?” She looked up and smiled crookedly. “Hey there, handsome.” He slowed. He knew this look too well. This wasn’t just drinking too much. This was unsafe. Then. She bent forward suddenly and threw up. Carter flinched but stayed put. Instinct took over. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her as she wiped her mouth, hands trembling. “You shouldn’t be alone right now,” he said, calm but firm. She mumbled something he couldn’t catch, then straightened and staggered toward a taxi. Before he could stop her, she climbed inside and disappeared into the night. The air felt heavier after that. Like something unfinished had been left behind. His phone rang again, its buzz cutting through the air. He stared at the screen. The name flashed back at him. His father. Cold crept down his spine, colder than the night air. His father never called without a reason. Not once. His heart skipped a beat and a cold knot formed in his stomach. He answered. “Your father’s asking for you,” a voice said. “Come now.” That was it. Carter didn’t ask questions. His heart pounded as he started the engine roared to life. As the streetlights streaked past, colors blurring like falling stars. Hold on, Dad. Everything else faded—the bar, the woman, the night itself. All that remained was the feeling that something was breaking open. A night that would change everything.