Wrong Agreement With The Devil

The Dangerous Man

So, the rumors were true. The man really was terrifying.

No wonder Nick had hesitated earlier to bring her in. It was clear Morgan hadn’t agreed to any of this and bringing someone into this room without permission was like tossing a match into a gas leak. Ashilla hadn’t even taken a full step across the threshold, and he was already trying to throw her out.

“You can’t make me leave, Sir,” she said quietly, forcing her voice to stay steady.

Morgan’s eyes narrowed, and for a second there was a flicker of something dangerous in his stare. “Because I can’t stand up? Is that what you’re banking on?” His voice was sharp and cold. “You think you can mock me and still pretend to be professional?”

Ashilla opened her mouth to speak, but her throat tightened. For a brief moment, she couldn’t find her words.

“No,” she said eventually, struggling to keep her tone calm and unshaken. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry. What I’m trying to say is … I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I came here to help you.”

She wished her voice hadn’t trembled as she spoke sincerely, but it did and Ashilla hated it.

Still, Morgan looked completely unimpressed. His eyes were blank and there wasn’t even the faintest sign that her words meant anything to him. His expression was like stone; rigid, unreadable, and impossibly cold. It was the kind of look worn by someone who had long since stopped caring.

“I never asked for help. Not from you. Not from anyone.” His voice was quieter now, but it lost none of its edge. “So what are you even doing here? Nicholas dragged you into this, didn’t he?”

Ashilla hesitated. Then she nodded slowly. She hated how weak the gesture felt, how guilty it made her seem.

Back then, she’d dealt with patients who were just as angry and just as broken. She’d survived months in a place full of violent tempers and wounded pride. But something about this man made her nerves fray faster. Maybe it was the way his pain sat so heavily in the air. Maybe it was because she could feel just how close he was to giving up.

“He’s just trying to do what’s best for you,” she said gently.

Again, there was no reaction. There’s barely any flickering in his eyes.

“If you’re what he considers the best, then we’ve truly hit rock bottom,” he muttered, “He should’ve sent me a better doctor. A doctor who was professional, not the one who always trembles and wears a blouse.” He murmured sharply.

That word hit harder than she expected.

She hadn’t braced herself for such a direct insult. Her chest tightened. Her gaze narrowed, locking onto Morgan’s face in disbelief.

“What did you just say—”

“Get out,” he said. “I don’t want you here and I never need you. Just because I can’t walk doesn’t mean I can’t do something reckless. Go, before I decide to do something about this.”

“No.” Shilla refused. “I have to help—”

Crash!

A loud noise shattered the air as Morgan slammed his fist against the nightstand. The aluminum tray that had been resting on it clattered to the floor with a sharp clang. For someone who was paralyzed, the sheer force behind that strike was staggering. There was raw fury in the way he moved.

“Who the hell told you to save me!?” he snapped, his voice booming like thunder through the tense air. “If you really want to save me, there’s only one damn way. Bring poison and put me out of my misery. Because I’m never going to get better, and I’d rather die than rot away on this goddamn bed for the rest of my life.”

His eyes blazed. His rage filled the room like fire. “Can you do that? Did you bring the poison? No? Then get the hell out of here!”

Ashilla flinched at the roar, her shoulders twitching slightly. But even with fear prickling at her spine, she didn’t move. She didn’t step back. She stood her ground, staring back at him in a silent, but steady look.

Morgan probably expected her to scamper away in fear like the rest. But Ashilla was tougher than he realized.

“Believe me. You can recover, Sir,” she finally said. There's strong determination in her voice.

Morgan let out a bitter scoff. “B*llshit,” he muttered. “I’ve heard that crap a hundred times. From doctors, therapists, even a stupid man with the biggest chicken, whoever they were. None of them made a damn difference. They should’ve just let me die from the start.”

The venom in his words was sharp, but Ashilla could hear the pain buried beneath it. This wasn’t just anger. This was someone drowning in despair, someone who had stopped believing in hope a long time ago.

When Morgan looked up at her again, his eyes were pitch black, dark and wild. But Ashilla saw past the fury. She saw exhaustion. A man who had fought for too long and no longer knew how to surrender.

“So unless you bring something to kill me with today,” he hissed, “don’t show me that face of yours ever again. Get. Out.” He threatened.

Ashilla wanted to stay. To prove she wasn’t the wrong choice. But she also knew when to back off. His emotions were spiraling, and right now … wasn’t the time to fight him. She’d come unprepared, without a plan, without the weapons she needed to break down walls like his.

So, without saying another word, Ashilla turned and walked out of Morgan’s room. As the door clicked shut behind her, the silence that returned was so complete, as if no one had ever been there at all.

Her heart was still racing, but her shoulders felt lighter as she made her way toward the living room.

Now she understood why everyone in that house seemed to tiptoe around Morgan and why they all looked so exasperated whenever he refused to eat.

The atmosphere outside had grown quieter by the time Ashilla stepped out. Nicholas was nowhere in sight, but Gabe approached her almost immediately.

“Mr. Nicholas had to leave. Business matters,” said the head butler. His expression suggested he already knew what kind of encounter she’d just endured. “How was he?” he asked.

“Worse than I expected,” Ashilla muttered under her breath. She had never met a patient so volatile, so sharp-tongued and guarded, as Morgan.

“But you two talked?” Gabe asked as he handed her a glass of orange juice, like he somehow knew she needed something to calm her nerves.

“Thank you,” Ashilla murmured, taking the glass with a trembling hand. “I think I at least managed to introduce myself,” she added, though she wasn’t sure Morgan had even cared for or remembered it.

“That’s progress,” Gabe said casually. “The rest of them don’t even make it past his second breath before getting thrown out.”

Ashilla nearly choked on her drink. She grabbed the tissue Gabe offered and let out a soft, amused laugh.

“You’re funny,” she said, finding herself oddly comforted after such an intense confrontation in the other room.

Gabe was clearly older than both her and Morgan. It seemed like he’d served this household for many years. His calm demeanor made it look like no matter what chaos unfolded around him, nothing could rattle him.

But he frowned slightly at her comment.

“I wasn’t joking,” he said plainly.

Ashilla nodded and placed her empty glass back on the tray. She had drained the chilled juice in one gulp.

“I’ll come again tomorrow. There has to be a way.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “Ah, he knocked over his food tray. It might be best to clean it up quickly. I’m just worried that ... you know ....” Her voice trailed off uncertainty. “People in pain often think differently—they’re more sensitive.”

What she was trying to say was that Morgan was at his most fragile, and there was always a risk he might do something reckless, like injecting himself with something fatal, or worse.

“Ever since he was brought home, we’ve made sure that everything sent to Mr. Morgan is made from safe materials,” Gabe replied calmly. “But we’ll check it right away. Thank you, Dr. Ashilla. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiled and Ashilla smiled back after hearing that title after her name.

Her thoughts were still clouded with the image of Morgan. How quick his temper was, how guarded and broken he seemed. He was difficult to approach. But at the very least, she was relieved to know she wasn’t walking into anything illegal.

But, it hadn’t even been an hour and Ashilla was already walking past the grand gates of the estate. A part of her doubted she’d ever see a payment for what just happened. But as she boarded the public transport, her phone vibrated with a notification.

A transfer of $20,000 had just landed in her bank account.

Ashilla had to check it more than once, unable to believe such an amount was now sitting right in her hands. A smile touched her lips. She could finally pay off the debts today.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Nicholas was already seated in his luxurious car. He had changed into a formal shirt and suit. A chauffeur was driving him toward his company headquarters, and seated in the front passenger seat was the same man who had visited Ashilla the day before.

“Are you sure she’s the right choice, sir?” the man asked. They had just transferred the first payment to the female doctor.

“Yes,” Nicholas replied calmly. His fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his thigh in ease. “She’s a good doctor. I know she’ll follow through with what we want ... exactly as planned.”

***

***

“This is the money. Now get out of our house,” Ashilla said firmly as she handed over a thick bundle of cash to the debt collectors.

Their eyes widened instantly. One of them grabbed a bundle and examined it closely.

“This is real money! Where did you get this from?” One of them barked in disbelief.

Ashilla frowned, looking clearly annoyed. “Is that any of your business?” She shot back.

“No. This is all that we wanted,” the leader said with a satisfied grin as he scooped up the rest of the money. “We’ll be back next week for the next payment. Make sure it looks like this again,” he warned with a pointed glare.

The group of burly, rough-looking men finally left the house without causing any harm. The moment they were gone, Betty rushed over to Ashilla, Her face filled with worry.

“Where did you get that lot of money, Shilla?” Her mother asked. She was anxious her daughter may jump into something serious to get the money.

But Ashille offered her a soft smile. “Someone needed my help for treatment, Mom. He’s a good man,” Ashilla replied, lying through her teeth.

The man clearly had no kind or dignity at all. Ashilla still remembered the curses and cruel words he had hurled at her. But that didn’t matter, and her mother didn’t need to know.

Betty exhaled a long breath of relief, gratitude softening the lines of her face.

“Thank God. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here. Your father won’t be back for another two days,” she said.

Ashilla nodded and wrapped her arms around her mother in a warm embrace.

“From now on, I’ll handle it, Mom. I’ll take full responsibility for our family.”

Not only had she paid off the debt, Ashilla also managed to buy groceries with the leftover money. She cleared out the stash of instant noodles from their pantry and replaced it with healthier real food.

After dinner, Ashilla retreated to her room. She needed to dig up some information about the man she'd be facing again tomorrow. This time, she wanted to be more prepared. She was determined to fully return to her work as a doctor and that meant understanding her patient no matter how difficult he was.

She stared at the cracked screen of her phone and began typing. If she remembered correctly, Nicholas had introduced himself as Nicholas Ashford, and his older brother’s name was Morgan.

Morgan Ashford.

She typed the name into the search bar.

What popped up made her eyes widen in disbelief. Her heart skipped a beat as her only phone nearly slipped from her hand.

“He was … Oh my gosh!”