Doctor Desire

Chapter 7: Unseen Bonds

Adrian’s POV

Serena Voss is a storm I can’t weather, and last night’s rejection at Eclipse has left me restless, my mind a battlefield. Her words—“Lust or something more?”—echo in my head, a challenge I can’t ignore. I’m Adrian Knight, king of Knight Enterprises, a man who bends cities to his will, but she’s the one pulling my strings, and it’s maddening. My office, a fortress of glass and steel overlooking the city, feels suffocating today, the skyline a reminder of my lack of control over her. I pace, my tie loosened, my thoughts consumed by her—her crimson dress, the way her hips swayed, the fire in her eyes as she walked away.

Ethan’s call interrupts my spiral, his voice slurred with whiskey. “Adrian, mate, Serena’s something else. Saw her at the clinic today—damn, that skirt, those legs. My wife’s still cold as ice, but Serena… she gets me going like nothing else. One session, and I’m dreaming of her.” His words hit like a punch, stoking the jealousy I’ve tried to bury since the gala. My grip tightens on the phone, my knuckles white. “Stay away from her, Ethan,” I snap, my tone icy, but he laughs, oblivious, rambling about her voice, her smile. I end the call, my blood boiling, my mind racing. I need to see her, to understand this power she holds over men—over me—but the fear gnaws at me: what if she never sees me as more than a rich suitor chasing a conquest?

I decide to visit her clinic, a spontaneous move that feels both reckless and necessary. The lobby is sleek, all white marble and soft lighting, and I linger near the reception, watching from the shadows. She’s with a patient, her voice a low hum, her posture commanding as she leans over a chart. The man, a young guy with nervous hands, leaves minutes later, his face flushed, muttering, “She’s incredible,” to no one in particular. My chest tightens—jealousy, yes, but also a grudging admiration. She emerges, spotting me, her eyes narrowing. “Adrian, what are you doing here?” Her tone is sharp, but her beauty—hair cascading over her shoulders, lips parted in surprise—hits me like a wave.

“I needed to see you,” I say, stepping closer, my hand grazing her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin through the sleeve of her coat. “Ethan’s obsessed. I need to know what you do to them—what makes them leave like that.” Her gaze hardens, and she pulls back, her chin lifting. “It’s my job, not a game. I help them, Adrian. If you can’t handle that, walk away.” Her words sting, but I see the flicker in her eyes—vulnerability, a fear of being judged—and it shifts something in me. I don’t just want her body; I want to shield her, to know the woman behind the myth.

Back at my office, I can’t let it go. I call my legal team, tasking them with a discreet investigation into her clinic. Hours later, they deliver—Lila Monroe’s name surfaces, linked to anonymous complaints about Serena’s methods, filed with the medical board. My gut churns; Lila’s the threat, and my motivation crystallizes. I’m not just jealous—I want to protect her, to earn her trust. I dig deeper, finding emails hinting at forged patient testimonies, and my resolve strengthens. I text her: “Meet me tomorrow. We need to talk about Lila. I’ve got proof.” Her reply is curt—“Fine.”—but it’s a lifeline.

That night, I stand on my penthouse balcony, the city lights blurring as I replay our encounter. Ethan’s words, the patient’s awe, Serena’s defiance—they all weave together, pulling me toward her. I’m falling, and it terrifies me, but I’m ready to fight—for her, for us. The thought of losing her to Lila’s schemes or my own jealousy drives me forward, a man unmoored but determined to anchor himself in her world.