Wrong Agreement With The Devil

Took A Revenge

Ashilla Danvers was once a competent neurosurgeon.

She was the youngest neurosurgeon in this country, and the first to publish breakthrough research on the impact of stem cells in rehabilitating patients with spinal or neurological disorders. Her career soared, and her popularity grew even more impressive considering she didn’t come from a privileged family.

Then it all fell apart in one night. Those glorious moments came crashing down the day she was accused of malpractice during surgery on a famous athlete that ended in death.

The scandal blew up in the media. She was fired in disgrace, dragged to a legal court, and thrown in prison along with an outrageous amount of lawsuits to pay.

Ashilla tried to defend herself, claiming she wasn’t the one who made the mistake. Someone else who had been in that operating room with her was responsible. And she knew exactly who. But with no hard evidence, no one believed her. She was loose and ended up locked in prison.

Now, one and a half years later, the day of her release has finally come.

She glanced back at the prison walls. Cold, towering, and heavy with memories she’d rather forget. Her lungs were now filled with fresh air, but her mind remained suffocated by anger and resentment.

The first thing she wanted to do was to go to the hospital and find her. The one who should’ve taken the fall.

She knew it was reckless. Showing up at the hospital where everything had fallen apart. But Ashilla wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

Her eyes were sharp with vengeance as she stood in the dim basement parking lot. And when the woman she’d been waiting for stepped out of the car, Ashilla blocked her path. Her stare was cold and unflinching.

“Ashilla—they released you.” She said in shock. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, as if seeing a ghost.

“Surprised?” Ashilla fired back. Her voice was heavy with rage. “You let me rot in there and didn’t lift a finger to help. Betrayed me. You lied to me and made me the one who was responsible for the tragedy!”

Her chest heaved as years’ worth of pain surged to the surface.

She had pictured this moment over and over again. The day she would finally confront Lara and accuse her back.

The old Ashilla might’ve walked away, too afraid of hurting anyone, but prison life had changed her.

Lara, instead of flinching, frowned and wrinkled her nose with disdain.

“At least clean yourself up before confronting me. You smell like prison.” She sneered.

Ashilla’s heart sank into her stomach.

She thought Lara would apologize, but the woman in designer clothes didn’t even flinch. There's no guilt or remorse reflected in her eyes.

Ashilla let out a bitter laugh.

“March 24th, 2019. Friday night, 9:15 PM. An athlete went and went in critical condition. He needed immediate surgery and you were in charge. But you gave him the wrong dose by accident, and it pushed him to a worse condition before he died on the table.” Her voice cracked, trembling under the weight of memory. I remember everything. His blood pressure, his heart rate, his oxygen levels. I’ve replayed it in my head a thousand times in prison. You were the one who made the mistake, but you—you stood there and blamed me.”

She took a step forward. Her eyes blazed with fury.

“I swear I’m going to clear my name, and I’ll make sure the world knows exactly what happened in that operating room that’ll burn through every lie you ever told,” Ashilla warned.

Her mind boiled with anger. Her voice is thick with the kind of bitterness that only comes from betrayal.

“Go ahead,” Lara said calmly.

Ashilla blinked once. Stunned.

“... What?”

“Just do it.” Lara repeated, lifting her chin with arrogance like a queen passing judgment. As if she was daring her to exactly do it.

“Tell everyone what happened that night. Let’s see if anyone believes a disgraced ex-surgeon like you over someone like me, the head of the neurosurgery department with a spotless record.” She said bravely.

Ashilla’s shoulders dropped in disappointment. Her fury collapsed into silence. Lara watched thoroughly how the rage on Ashilla’s face slowly faded into heartbreak.

She was speechless.

So now Lara is the head of neurosurgery?

While Asilla was rotting in prison, paying for something that she didn’t do, stripped of everything she worked for, this woman took everything she ever wanted.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Lara said with a smirk. Clearly, she’s enjoying the moment where Ashilla was dumped into wrenching disappointment. “After you got in jail, I was promoted. They said I was competent for the position. I’m the head of the department now. And,” she added with pride. “I’m part of the hospital senate too.”

She then leaned her head closer to Ashilla who was still frozen.

“Now tell me. Do you really think they’d believe it was me who made a mistake that night?”

Suddenly, Ashilla couldn’t speak. She felt like her tongue was numb. Her heart is heavier than ever and beating achingly.

Lara had made her point clear.

Even since they were at medical school, Lara was always in a steady point. She had been backing up and getting much privileged. It was no secret that her parents held a big power in the medical field around here, but all of these privileges made her have a bad attitude.

“Looks like prison really changed you,” Lara said. Her eyes were staring Ashilla thoroughly from head to toe. “You used to be so obedient. Too afraid to defend yourself. "Now here you are, confronting me?” She leaned closer and poked her finger firmly into Ashilla’s chest.

“Too bad you still didn’t learn the most important lesson: You’ll never win against someone bigger than you.” She whispered sharply.

“But, it’s okay.” She murmured again. This time her voice was light and smooth. “I understand why you’d hate me. Your medical license got revoked because of me. The best neurosurgeon in the country suddenly fired in disgrace, also because of me. And …” Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “You’ve probably thinking you went to prison because of me too, right?”

Ashilla didn’t answer. Her fists clenched tightly by her sides, aching to slap Lara right in the face. But she was barely two hours out of prison. Just one wrong move, and she could land right back in that cell again.

“But listen closely,” Lara spoke. Her voice was a low hiss and her lips smiled like a knife. “You’re right. I did it all. All that happened to you was because of me. Now you are just a former prisoner at such a young age, having had your license gone. No future, no job, no status. I have completely ruined your life. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

Ashilla’s face flushed red with rage. Her eyes wheeled up with frustration. Her lips trembled, as if she was on the verge of saying something, but the words were buried under layers of fury.

She still can’t believe it. Everything she worked so hard for, her whole brilliant career was crushed by someone she once called a friend.

“Oh? You mad at me?” Lara tilted her head. “You want to slap me? Yell at me? Pull my hair? Go ahead. Do it.”

She dipped her head forward as if she was practically begging for a reaction. “Come on. Do it. No one’s going to defend you anyway.” She sneered, dripping with cruelty.

“One year and six months,” Ashilla said. Her voice was heavy with emotion. There's determination in her glance. “I’ve waited patiently for one year and six months. "And if I have to, I’ll wait six months more.” She continued, unfazed by Lara’s confusion. Just for a second, her confidence cracked.

“You’re talking crazy.” She spat, but there was a nervous edge in her voice now.

“I’ll give you two years,” Ashilla growled. “When that time comes, I swear you’ll pay for everything you’ve done.”

Lara’s lips curved into a mocking smile. She didn’t flinch. In fact, she laughed, a cruel amused laugh.

“You almost gave me chills. But, really. I have surgery to handle and dinner to attend. So, rather than being busy making threats or confronting me, maybe you had better go visit your family. Have you heard the news?”

Ashilla froze. Her blood ran cold.

“What did you do to them!?” She burst out.

Lara gave a lazy shrug and rolled her eyes. “Relax. I’m not that heartless. But you might want to find out for yourself, Prisoner.” With a final smirk, she turned and walked away. Her heels were tapping a rhythm of victory across the floor.

Ashilla hurried through the city, catching the first public transport she could find. Her pulse still pounded from the confrontation with Lara, and in her rush to face the woman who had ruined her life, she had completely forgotten to contact her family.

Only now did it hit her—she didn’t know what she’d find when she got home.

But nothing could’ve prepared her for the shock.

The house… was no longer theirs. The windows were different, the curtains unfamiliar, and the small potted plants her mother used to care for were gone.

She stood frozen on the sidewalk until a woman stepped outside, tossing a bag of trash into a bin. “Excuse me,” she asked, her voice tight. “The people who used to live here … where did they go?”

The woman blinked, glancing at Ashilla with slight hesitation, as if unsure whether to answer.

“You mean the Danvers family?” she asked back, "They moved out a while ago. Couldn’t afford the rent anymore, I think. Heard their daughter got into serious trouble and landed in prison.”

“Which unit?” Ashilla asked right away. Her voice was rushed, her posture tense, and it made the woman hesitate, eyes narrowing just slightly in suspicion.

“Fifteen,” she finally answered. “Wait … your face looks familiar.”

Before the woman could say anything else, Ashilla tugged the hood of her jacket over her head. “Thanks,” she mumbled, then quickly walked off.

No wonder her parents never came to visit. They were probably too busy surviving.

She’d barely taken ten steps in the direction the woman had pointed out when two sleek, black luxury cars rolled to a stop along the curb beside her.

Ashilla automatically stopped her step.

Doors swung open in near perfect sync, and a wave of sharply dressed men stepped out.

What the hell was this? Is that one of Lara’s acts? Or …

Her breath caught in her throat.

Was the family of the athlete searching for her?

She took a step back, ready to bolt if things turned bad, but one of the men stepped forward with both hands raised.

“Please don’t run, Dr. Ashilla! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

She froze mid-step, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Her heart pounded.

“M—Me? Why?” she stammered, her voice edged with alarm. Hesitates to run for her life or stay.

The man stepped closer, careful not to scare her. “We were assigned to locate you. Our boss would like to offer you a professional agreement.”

… wait. What?

Ashilla’s legs tensed, ready to flee the moment he said something stupid like "we're reopening the case", but then he said something that made her blood run cold.

She blinked, unsure if she had heard him right.

“A—agreement?”

“Yes,” the man confirmed. “We’re in need of your specific skills and expertise. You will be paid $20,000 for a single consultation. And if you succeed in helping our boss fully recover, you’ll get two hundred million dollars.”