Bound by A Hidden Name

Chapter 4

Gregory's POV

I was tired of pretending.

Tired of smiling for donors, tired of shaking hands with men who only cared about profit margins, tired of letting my life be dictated by a surname that carried more weight than my own heartbeat. Being the Chief Medical Director of one of the biggest hospitals in the city sounded glamorous to the world, but to me, it felt like a beautifully decorated cage.

That day, I had decided something in me would change.

I stood at the façade of the building , hands braced against the glass window, staring into the building that never seemed to rest. I felt like rebelling against everything…my family, my title, my obligations. I wanted a life that felt like mine.

That was when I saw her.

She was walking toward the hospital exit, sunlight brushing against her hair like it recognized her. The guards behind me shifted, waiting for my next move, but I forgot they existed. My breath caught in my throat.

Guinevere.

I didn’t know her name then, but I knew she mattered.

I stepped away from my position, my feet moving before my mind could catch up. I stood by the hospital exit doors, watching her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense. She walked with this quiet grace, like she didn’t know how beautiful she was…and that made it worse.

Then she bumped into me.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice you since I was rushing…”

For a moment, I forgot who I was.

Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and soft, and the world went silent. I saw lips moving, but I couldn’t hear words. I was lost in her.

Then reality snapped back.

Too many eyes were on me.

I hardened my face instantly. I raised my hand before she could finish apologizing, cutting her off without a word. My bodyguard moved, pulling her aside gently but firmly. I hated it, but I let it happen.

Our eyes never broke.

Not when I walked toward the elevator.

Not when the doors opened.

Not when I stepped inside.

I whispered under my breath, “Soon you’ll be mine.”

She couldn’t hear me.

But I still whispered again, softer, deeper.

“Mine to have.”

I hoped... God, I hoped...some part of her felt it.

The doors began to close. I kept my eyes on hers until the very last second, until metal cut between us. My chest felt tight in a way that had nothing to do with stress.

I didn’t even know her name.

But I already wanted her back in my world.

---

The next day, fate handed her to me.

I saw her picture on a patient file.

Turns out her brother was in the hospital.

Then I noticed her name.

Next of kin: Guinevere.

I didn’t hesitate. I personally took her brother’s case. No board meeting, no protocol, no assistant could stop me. I told myself it was professional curiosity. That was a lie.

I just wanted to be near her.

The first time I saw her again, my heart did something stupid. She was standing by the elevator, hands folded in front of her, worry written all over her face. She bumped into me again. She looked up and when she saw me, her eyes widened.

“You,” she whispered.

I nodded. “Careful.”

“You really like crashing into people,” I teased

We rode the elevator together in silence before she finally said, “My name is Guinevere.”

I smiled for real. “I’m Gregory. And I happen to be the CMD of this hospital. Nice to meet you.”

I brought forward my hand for a shake. She took it and smiled.

I told her that I was in charge of treating her brother. She seemed shocked by it.

“Orders from above.” I lied. There is no above.

She looked like she had come to a realization of something.

We exchanged numbers. And I knew this was just the beginning of something special.

*********************

Hearing her say my name later...“Gregory”...felt like something sacred. Like she had no idea what she was doing to me just by speaking.

We talked every day after that. Sometimes only for minutes in the elevator. Sometimes longer in the hallway. She told me about her brother, how he used to protect her when they were kids, how she hated hospitals but trusted me.

I liked when she trusted me.

I liked when she smiled at me.

I liked the way she said my name.

I saw her innocence, her strength, her quiet sadness. I felt drawn to her without reason, without logic. It scared me.

Then Dalia walked back into my life.

She was sitting in my office like she owned it, legs crossed, lips painted with a smile that never meant anything good.

“Well,” she said slowly, “look at you. Still pretending to be a hero.”

“What do you want, Dalia?” I asked coldly.

“I came to reveal your secret,” she said. “I saw you with a lady.”

I didn’t blink.

“She’s special, isn’t she?” Dalia continued. “I can tell. And I can also tell you don’t want her to know who you really are.”

I stepped closer. “Leave.”

She laughed. “What did you do in Italy that made you run back to the Americas?”

Her words hit too close.

“I can see you’re trying to get close to her,” she said sweetly. “Careful, Gregory. You always ruin the pretty ones.”

“What do you want?” I demanded.

She stood, walking toward the door. “Just reminding you to watch your back. I’m ready to fight if you are.”

Then she stopped.

Turned.

Smiled like a devil.

“Wonder who her husband is? I hear she’s married. You would know him. He’s closer to you than Gwen knows.”

She laughed and walked out.

The air left my lungs.

Married?

Guinevere?

No.

She never said she was married.

I leaned against my desk, heart pounding. Who could she be married to? And what did Dalia mean...closer to me than Gwen knows?

That night, I couldn’t sleep.

The next day, I saw Guinevere again.

She smiled when she saw me, and everything in me wanted to pretend I didn’t hear Dalia’s words.

“Gregory,” she said softly.

I wanted to ask her everything. But instead, I just said, “How’s your brother?”

She talked. I listened. But I was watching her hands, her eyes, her mouth. Looking for lies.

“Guinevere,” I said finally, “is there something you haven’t told me?”

She blinked. “Like what?”

I swallowed. “About your life.”

She hesitated.

And that hesitation told me everything.

Before she could answer, my phone rang.

A private number.

I stepped aside and answered.

“Stay away from her,” a man’s voice said.

“Who is this?” I demanded.

“She’s not yours,” he said. “And she never will be.”

The line went dead.

I turned back to Guinevere. She was watching me, fear in her eyes, like she already knew what the call meant.

“Gregory,” she whispered, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Before she could speak, the elevator doors opened behind her...and a man stepped out.

A man I knew.

A man who knew me.

A man who smiled when he saw me… and then looked at Guinevere like he o

wned her.

My blood turned cold.

Dalia’s words echoed in my head:

“He’s closer to you than Gwen knows.”

Guinevere turned slowly toward him.

And said, in a voice that shattered my world,

“…Husband?”