The Grey Heir

The Doctor's Rules

The Doctor's Rules

NIRA POV

The moment breakfast ended, William's entire demeanor shifted, and the quiet, guarded man who had sat at the table with me disappeared, replaced by the sharp and decisive CEO of Grey Enterprises who seemed to have already moved on to the next problem waiting for him.

He stood from his chair, adjusted the cuffs of his dark suit and glanced at his watch.

“I have a board meeting this afternoon,” he said as he moved toward the grand double doors of the dining hall.

I quickly wiped my lips with the napkin and stood, following him into the foyer.

“William, wait. You suffered a major neurological episode less than eight hours ago, and your system is still recovering.”

He didn't slow his stride.

“The market does not pause for a headache, Dr. Dickson.”

“It was not just a headache,” I said, stepping in front of him near the main entrance so that he had no choice but to stop.

I kept my posture steady and my tone calm, relying on the authority of my medical training instead of allowing his position to intimidate me.

“Your body needs rest, and if you push yourself through a high-stress meeting right now, you risk triggering another sensory overload.”

William stopped and looked down at me with cold, analytical eyes, and for a moment, I had the distinct feeling that he was testing my limits to see whether I would back down simply because he was used to being obeyed.

“I am fine,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying the authority of a man who was accustomed to giving orders that no one questioned. “My mind is clear, but if you want to protect my health, make yourself useful today.”

I frowned slightly.

“Useful how?”

“Write a comprehensive medical assessment,” William instructed, resting his hands inside his pockets. “Focus on my neurological stability. The board of directors is looking for any sign of weakness they can use to challenge my position, so I need a clear, professional report from an independent physician stating that I am fully fit to retain executive control.”

I studied him for a moment before answering.

“I cannot lie on a medical document, William. I will report my exact findings.”

“I am not asking you to lie,” he replied, and there was a faint, sharp edge of amusement in his voice. “I am asking you to state the facts.”

His eyes remained fixed on mine.

“Once you finish the report, send it directly to Halo.”

“Halo?”

“My personal assistant and head of security,” William explained. “He manages my official communications.”

I remembered Halo from the night before, the tall, stoic man who had brought my medical case to my room and barely spoken more than a few words to me, while his dark eyes had remained fixed on me with such deep distrust that it was clear he considered me an outsider who had no place in the Grey Estate.

“After you send the report,” William continued, taking his coat from a waiting servant, “draft a daily medical schedule for me.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“A medical schedule?”

“Outline my rest periods, meal times and exact restrictions,” he said, slipping his coat on before looking back at me. “Let us see how well you can organize my life, Doctor.”

Before I could answer, the front doors opened, allowing the crisp morning air to sweep into the foyer, and William stepped outside toward his waiting car without giving me another chance to argue.

I remained near the entrance for a few seconds, watching the car disappear through the estate gates before finally turning back toward the house.

By mid-afternoon, I had set up a working space at the small desk in my bedroom, where I spent the next three hours carefully preparing William's medical report and documenting everything I had observed, from his sensory responses and pulse rates to the severity of the episode and the amount of time it had taken for him to recover.

I made sure every statement in the report was supported by what I had actually witnessed, because I wasn't going to lie for William simply because he was a billionaire, but I was equally careful not to include anything that could be taken out of context and used by the board to question his ability to remain in control of his company.

Once I was satisfied that the document was complete, I composed an email to Halo and attached the report before sending it.

His reply came less than two minutes later.

Received. Master William’s legal team will review this before the board session.

There was no greeting and no closing, and the brief message made his position toward me very clear.

He was keeping a close eye on me.

I closed the email and opened a blank document to begin working on William's schedule.

If he wanted to test my authority as his physician, I was more than ready for the challenge.

I began typing out strict, non-negotiable rules for his daily routine, fixing his sleep windows, limiting his intake of stimulants, setting mandatory breaks between meetings and establishing clear boundaries for his workload, because regardless of how powerful William Grey was outside this estate, he was still my patient when he was under my care.

He might be the CEO of Grey Enterprises, a man who could make decisions worth millions with a single phone call, but his body did not care about his wealth or his position, and if he continued pushing himself without giving his nervous system enough time to recover, another episode could come without warning.

When I finally finished, I printed out the schedule and looked over the pages in my hands.

The rules were strict.

I knew William would probably hate most of them.

But writing them was the easy part.

The real battle would begin when I tried to enforce them on a man who was used to ruling everyone around him.