Chapter Two
1198 Words
“Primum non nocere.”
First, do no harm.
The stranger disappeared into the crowd as though he had never been there.
Catherine stood frozen.
“…What?”
Students brushed past her, laughing over something she couldn’t hear.
Someone called a friend’s name.
A bicycle bell rang somewhere in the distance.
The world had continued moving.
She hadn’t.
Her fingers tightened around the anatomy atlas tucked against her side.
“Katya.”
The name echoed in her head.
Not Catherine.
Not Cat.
Katya.
She didn’t even know what it meant.
“What kind of person decides your name isn’t your name?” she muttered under her breath.
“A very rude one.”
She spun around.
Her best friend, Naomi, raised an eyebrow, balancing two iced coffees in one hand.
“I’ve been shouting your name for the past thirty seconds.”
Catherine blinked.
“You have?”
Naomi narrowed her eyes.
“Who were you talking to?”
“No one.”
“Hmm.”
That single hum carried years of friendship.
It translated to:
“You’re lying, and I know you’re lying.”
Naomi handed her one of the coffees.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Worse.”
“Oh?”
“A man.”
Naomi gasped dramatically.
“My God.”
“I know.”
“A handsome man?”
Catherine hesitated.
“…Unfortunately.”
Naomi burst into laughter.
“I don’t like that answer.”
“I don’t like him.”
“You literally just admitted he’s handsome.”
“I said unfortunately.”
“So he is handsome.”
Catherine sighed.
“He’s… annoyingly handsome.”
“Describe him.”
“No.”
“Catherine.”
“No.”
“Catherine Davis.”
She groaned.
“Fine.”
She looked toward the path where he’d disappeared.
“He has dark hair.”
“Mhm.”
“Grey eyes.”
“Mhm.”
“He’s tall.”
“How tall?”
“Very.”
Naomi frowned.
“That’s not a measurement.”
“Fine.”
“Six-foot-something.”
Naomi nodded approvingly.
“Continue.”
“He barely smiles.”
“Oh.”
“He barely talks.”
“Oh.”
“He stares.”
“Oh.”
Catherine finally looked at her.
“What do you mean, ‘oh’?”
Naomi smiled knowingly.
“You’ve met your type.”
“I absolutely have not.”
“You just described him like he was a museum exhibit.”
“I was being objective.”
“You noticed his eye colour.”
“…”
“You noticed his smile.”
“…”
“You noticed how tall he was.”
“…”
“I rest my case.”
Catherine opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
“…I hate you.”
“I know.”
Miron watched from across the courtyard.
He wasn’t watching the university.
He wasn’t watching the students.
He was watching one person.
Katya.
She laughed at something her friend had said.
The sound didn’t reach him.
He didn’t need it to.
One of the men beside him cleared his throat.
“Sir.”
Miron didn’t look away.
“What?”
“We’ve been here forty-three minutes.”
“I know.”
“The meeting.”
“It can wait.”
The man hesitated.
“…Because of her?”
Silence.
Then—
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Do you want us to continue surveillance?”
Miron’s gaze remained fixed on Catherine.
“No.”
The man frowned.
“No?”
“I’ve seen enough.”
“What would you like us to do?”
Miron finally looked at him.
“Nothing.”
“Sir?”
“She’s exactly who I thought she was.”
The bodyguard looked confused.
“And who is that?”
Miron’s answer came almost absentmindedly.
“Someone who helps people without expecting anything in return.”
He looked back toward Catherine.
“Those people are… rare.”
“Katya.”
Catherine stopped walking.
No.
Absolutely not.
She slowly turned around.
He was standing beside a black SUV parked just outside the university gates.
As if he’d been there the entire time.
Waiting.
Her heart immediately began arguing with her common sense.
Keep walking.
No.
Run.
No, that’s weird.
Pretend you didn’t hear him.
Too late.
He’d already seen her.
She sighed internally before walking over.
“My name…”
She folded her arms.
“…is Catherine.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“I know.”
“Then why do you keep calling me Katya?”
“It suits you.”
She blinked.
“…That’s not how names work.”
“It is where I’m from.”
“Well…”
She pointed at the ground.
“This isn’t where you’re from.”
For the first time…
He looked almost amused.
Almost.
“I stand corrected.”
She smiled triumphantly.
“Good.”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“I’ll still call you Katya.”
Her smile vanished.
“You are unbelievably stubborn.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
“Oh?”
“You stayed.”
She frowned.
“We’ve already had this conversation.”
“No.”
His voice was calm.
“We haven’t.”
“You thanked me.”
“I acknowledged the debt.”
“Same thing.”
“It isn’t.”
Catherine looked at him for a moment.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You may.”
“Why are you acting like I saved your life personally?”
“I did what any medical student would do.”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“You did what you would do.”
She laughed softly.
“You have a very strange way of saying thank you.”
“I’ve never been thanked properly.”
He reached into the pocket of his coat.
For a split second…
Her heart skipped.
He wasn’t reaching for a weapon.
He pulled out a small business card.
Plain.
White.
No company logo.
No address.
Only a phone number embossed in black.
He held it out to her.
“If you ever need anything…”
She looked at the card.
Then back at him.
“I don’t even know your name.”
A long silence settled between them.
Finally—
“Miron.”
She repeated it quietly.
“…Miron.”
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
As if hearing his own name from her lips had caught him off guard.
She looked at the card again.
“No surname?”
“You won’t need it.”
She laughed.
“You’re incredibly mysterious.”
“No.”
His gaze met hers.
“I’m careful.”
She slipped the card into the pages of her anatomy textbook.
“Well…”
“I hope I never have to use it.”
His eyes held hers for a long second.
“I hope you don’t either.”
Then, without another word, he opened the SUV door and got inside.
The vehicle pulled away.
Leaving Catherine standing at the university gate with a business card…
…and far more questions than answers.
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