27.Case closed and Three minutes
After dinner, Eva sat stiffly, her smile long gone the moment they excused themselves from the table. The teasing, the probing questions, Neil's unexpected defense-it was all too much for one night.
And now... she thought bitterly, trailing behind Neil through the grand hallways, I have to share a room with this man. Again. Two days in a row. Wasn't yesterday's disaster enough? Lord, save me.
Her jaw tightened as she watched his calm, measured steps. He hadn't even asked. Not once. How dare he make decisions about us without my concern? Just because we signed a stupid paper doesn't mean he owns my life.
The silence between them stretched like an invisible wall as they approached the east wing.
Finally, he stopped in front of a heavy mahogany door and pushed it open.
Eva blinked as she stepped inside.
This wasn't just a room-it was Neil Morris's world.
Bookshelves lined the walls, not cluttered like her shelves at home but arranged with military precision. The desk gleamed, pens aligned perfectly, papers stacked without a wrinkle. Dark wood, deep leather, shades of grey and navy dominated the space, every corner screaming order and control.
It was... cold. And yet, somehow, it felt alive-because it was him.
Eva's gaze drifted to the bed, perfectly made like no one had ever dared to disturb it. To the framed certificates and accolades that hung with quiet pride. To the absence of anything soft, colorful, or chaotic-no hobbies, no silly trinkets, nothing to show warmth.
Just like Neil.
She stood in the doorway, arms folded. So this is the room he lived in all his life. No wonder he turned out this... calculated. No wonder he doesn't understand what it feels like to just breathe.
She didn't say a word.
But when Neil glanced back at her, his eyes unreadable, she quickly shifted her gaze away, pretending to study the bookshelf like it fascinated her.
The silence walked with them into the room, heavier than the mansion's walls.
"Where's the guest room?" she asked flatly.
Neil, already pulling off his watch, paused mid-motion. "Why?"
"I think everyone's gone to bed now. It doesn't matter where I sleep."
His gaze sharpened. "It does."
Her laugh was humorless, tinged with sarcasm. "Of course it does. This is not happening, Neil. First, you pull that nice little stunt of showing up at my home, charming my grandparents, convincing everyone how perfect you are, and then-dragging me here. Good play, Dr. Morris."
Neil straightened, shoulders squaring. "Eva-"
"No." She cut him off, her voice rising, hands flying up. "Don't you dare. And more over-" she hesitated, the image of that car flashing in her head, the faceless woman seated beside him. Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out, low and bitter, "You even have a girlfriend, don't you?"
Neil's head snapped toward her, eyes widening. "A what?"
Eva scoffed, avoiding his stare. "Anyways, there must be at least one room for me in this huge estate of yours. Spare me the drama."
He stepped closer, voice deep and firm. "Stop it, Eva."
Her eyes finally flicked up to his, blazing. "Our contract, Neil. Remember? We're supposed to play the roles, keep the lines clear. And yet here you are-blurring them every chance you get."
For a moment, silence. Heavy, suffocating, like the walls of the estate had absorbed every secret and were now listening in.
Neil's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
And Eva, with her messy hair and fiery eyes, stood there like the only person capable of dismantling the machine he'd built himself into.
Eva's voice lingered in the air like smoke. You even have a girlfriend, don't you?
Neil stood frozen, as if her words had punched the air out of him. For once, his mask slipped-not much, just enough for her to catch the flicker in his eyes.
"A girlfriend?" he repeated, his tone low, incredulous. "That's what you think?"
Eva folded her arms, chin tilting defiantly. "I saw you, Neil. In your car. With someone. But of course, why would you explain? Keeping secrets is what you do best."
His jaw worked, his lips pressing into a thin line before he didn't speak.
Neil didn't argue. He just watched her for a long, slow second, and then something unreadable tugged the corner of his mouth. A small smile. A smirk. The kind that said he'd already worked out the puzzle and rather enjoyed watching the pieces move.
Eva's face flushed hotter. The realization that he knew why she'd been moody the last two days made her blood boil even more-because she still didn't know who had been in his car. She'd been accusing him, fuming, and now he sat there smiling like it was a private joke she hadn't been invited to.
"You're smiling, seriously you are enjoying this," she snapped, sharp and small.
"YES." He let the words hang with a satisfied smile.
Then, deliberately, slow and teasing: "Are you jealous?"
Eva froze, nostrils flaring. "Why would I be?" she shot back, voice too quick. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, trying to anchor herself against the stupid flutter that answered him anyway.
Neil watched her, smirk softening into something almost fond - but still dangerous. He said nothing more. That silence said more than any defense could.
Eva huffed, spinning on her heel. "Forget it. I'll just find a room myself."
She marched toward the door, fingers curled around the knob-when his voice cut in, calm, low, almost amused.
"Running away now, sunshine?"
"Sunshine? Where did that come from." her mind voice echoed.
Her shoulders stiffened. "I'm not running away. I just don't feel like standing here and listening to you act smug."
Neil didn't argue this time. He walked right past her, calm and deliberate, pulling open the drawer near his bed. Before she could even process, he stood behind her in a fraction of second.The metallic click of the lock echoed in the room.
Her eyes widened. "You can't just lock me in."
He slipped the key into his palm, raising one brow as if daring her. "Problem?"
Eva lunged. "Give me that key, Dr. Morris."
The little scuffle was ridiculous - her fingers brushing his hand, him lifting it just out of reach, their bodies closing the distance in a tug-of-war. For one wild second, she almost snatched it, her nails grazing the cold brass.
"Almost, sunshine," Neil murmured, holding it higher, the smugness in his voice burning her up more than the failed attempt.
"Neil!" she snapped, jumping again, this time pressing against his chest. He grinned - actually grinned - and the fact that their height difference made her efforts hopeless only fueled her fury.
Eva was 5'8 but still seemed tiny beside him.
He was a 6'2 giant.
And then, as if to seal his victory, he stepped toward the window, fingers flicking open the latch.
"Don't you dare-"
The key arced into the night, clinking somewhere in the backyard lawn.
Eva froze. Her jaw dropped. "You- you maniac! How are we supposed to get out now?"
Neil leaned casually against the bed frame, hands holding the blanket, wearing that maddeningly satisfied smirk.
"Exactly my point. You're not going anywhere tonight."
"Unbelievable..." she muttered, stomping toward the bed, yanking a pillow as a shield between them.
Neil's chuckle was low, infuriatingly calm. "Sweet dreams, Walter."
The tension was thick, the air heavy with the weight of arguments volleyed across the chamber. Papers shuffled, voices rose, and the judge's gavel tapped more than once to maintain order.
Ria sat stiffly on the bench, fingers knotted in her lap, her eyes darting nervously between the lawyers. Her heart pounded as every point seemed to push her further into a corner she hadn't built.
Beside her, Ryle stood tall, voice sharp and unwavering as he sparred with the opposing counsel.
"My client has been falsely blacklisted.
There is zero evidence tying her to this mess, only slander and assumptions.
" His words cut like glass, his tone laced with a confidence that made even the opposing lawyer falter.
Every time the other side tried to twist the narrative, Ryle countered, quick, precise, and relentless.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the judge leaned back. "Enough. The court finds no basis to continue. The blacklisting shall be removed. Ms. Walter is cleared of all charges."
The words washed over Ria like rain after drought. Her shoulders sagged with relief. A faint, trembling smile tugged at her lips as her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
Without a word, Ryle reached out, his palm landing gently on her head. He smoothed down her hair, his touch casual yet oddly protective. For once, there was no teasing this time - but quiet reassurance.
The heavy doors swung shut behind them, and the noise of the courtroom gave way to the busy hum of the courthouse lobby. Ria let out a shaky breath, hugging her file close to her chest.
"I can't believe it's finally over," she whispered.
Ryle glanced sideways at her, his hands in his pockets. "Told you I had it handled." His tone was nonchalant, but there was a softness in his eyes that didn't match his words.
Ria rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth curved despite herself. "You're so full of yourself."
"Maybe," he said, leaning slightly closer, "but admit it-you'd have been a disaster without me."
She shot him a glare, but the pink creeping up her cheeks betrayed her. "I didn't ask you to save me."
Ryle smirked, taking a slow step backward as if to enjoy her fluster. "No. But I wanted to."
Ria blinked, her breath catching for half a second before she quickly looked away. "Thank you."
"Never mind!" he said smoothly, brushing a speck of dust from his blazer, "I'm Ryle Morris. Don't forget it."
And before she could come up with a comeback, he reached out once more, ruffling her hair with a quick, boyish gesture before striding ahead, leaving her to chase after him with an indignant, "Stop messing up my hair!"
"I like doing it." he shot back.
Her laugh rang out, light and free, a stark contrast to the weight that had pressed down on her only hours ago now seems to be relieved.
The sunlight slanted through the heavy curtains of Neil's childhood room, throwing golden stripes across the floor. Eva sat at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, jaw tight. She hadn't slept much. Every creak of the old house, every shift in the silence had only fueled her irritation.
She was married to a man who never asked, only decided. Who moved people like chess pieces, including her.
The sound of the shower stopped. A few moments later, Neil stepped out, sleeves rolled up, hair damp, his cufflinks in hand. He looked calm-far too calm for someone who had practically trapped her in a room the night before.
"Sleep well?" he asked casually, adjusting his watch like nothing had happened.
Eva's glare could have cut glass. "Like a hostage, thank you."
He smirked at that, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "A dramatic one, at that."
"Neil, this isn't funny." She stood, pacing. "First you corner me into coming here. Then you play the perfect son-in-law at my house. And last night, you-" she stopped, throwing her hands up, "-you lock me in. Like I'm some part of your plan!"
Neil finally looked at her, the smirk softening into something quieter, unreadable. He tucked his hands into his pockets. "You think everything I do is a plan, don't you?"
Eva shot back instantly, "Isn't it? You're so calculated, Neil. Always one step ahead, never letting anyone close. And now suddenly you're... what? A husband?"
The word hung in the air like a challenge.
His jaw tightened, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer, closing the space between them until she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. "Believe me, Eva," he said slowly, voice low, "if I was really playing a game, you wouldn't even see the board."
Her stomach twisted, heat flooding her face at how close he was. But she refused to flinch, refused to look away. "Then stop making me a pawn."
For a moment, the tension was unbearable, thick with things neither of them dared say. Then Neil broke it with a sharp inhale, stepping back. "We're leaving in an hour. Be ready."
Eva clenched her fists, biting down her retort. She hated that he always had the last word. She hated even more the way her pulse betrayed her whenever he came too close.
Emergency bells, hurried steps, the rolling wheels of stretchers. Eva clutched her files to her chest, walking through ward rounds without her usual sparkle.
Lexi and Trent were both off-duty today-no sarcastic comments, no laughs between shifts. It felt like her hospital had been muted, the colors dulled. Even cardiology, her favorite department, seemed like a blur of numbers and cases she couldn't get her head into.
She slipped into the doctors' lounge, plopping herself on the couch with a sigh. God, why am I even here today...?
Her phone buzzed.
Dr. Morris: 3 minutes. Stand in front of me if you want to scrub in for Emergency Aortic Dissection Repair."
Her eyes widened, heart skipping. He didn't-
She leapt to her feet, nearly spilling the file off her lap. "Three minutes?! That man-"
Eva sprinted down the corridor, dodging interns and nurses. Her lab coat flared behind her like a cape, hair bouncing out of her bun as she ran for her life.
By the time she reached the OR doors, breathless and flushed, Neil was there-mask half-pulled, cap already on, arms folded with that maddening calmness. His eyes flicked to the clock above the door, then back at her, one brow raised.
"Two minutes, fifty-eight seconds," he said, as if checking her pulse.
Eva bent over, catching her breath. "I hate you." she gasped.
"And yet," he handed her a scrub pack with a gloved hand, "you're here."
Her glare was weak, betrayed by the way her hands shook with excitement as she grabbed the pack.
As she rushed to scrub in, Neil turned toward the glass observation window, hiding the faintest curve of his lips. For all her fire, she had never missed a chance when it came to the OR.
"Running in the corridors is unprofessional." His tone was maddeningly calm.
"Unprofessional?!" she hissed, tying her mask. "You just baited me with an aortic dissection like a-like a-"
"Like a what?" His voice dipped, low, teasing now.
Her words died when he pushed the OT doors open, sterile air rushing out, monitors beeping inside. The patient was already prepped, the entire team waiting.
Neil glanced back at her, his mask hiding half his face, but his eyes gleamed. "Focus, Walter. Time to see if you deserve my texts."
Her heart was hammering, not only from the run-but also his words.
Incision done, time to cut open the aorta. Neil's hands were working magically with precision and experience.
Eva stood there holding retractors observing his every move.
Suddenly the monitors blared. Blood pressure dropping. Heart rate flatlining. The room tensed instantly.
Neil's gloved hands moved with machine-like precision, but something subtle caught Eva's eye-the aortic clamp wasn't positioned optimally. Her mind raced.
"Dr.Morris," she said calmly but firmly, "increase the preload before you cross-clamp! The ventricle's not filling enough-watch the ECG!"
Heads turned. Everyone froze for a split second, then nodded.
Neil's eyes flicked toward her, sharp, calculating-but instead of brushing her off, he allowed a microsecond of acknowledgment before returning to his work.
Eva's voice didn't waver. She coordinated the assistants, adjusted the lines, and monitored the vitals like a hawk. Slowly, the numbers began climbing back. The room exhaled.
The attending resident leaned over, whispering to another, "Did you see that? She just saved the patient from a major drop. Incredible reflexes!"
The nurses exchanged impressed glances.
And yet, Neil remained impassive. He didn't smile. Didn't praise. Just continued, focused, precise.
Eva felt a flush of both pride and irritation. Why does he always act like I did nothing? she thought.
But the rest of the team? They were silently cheering her.
Finally, as the last clamp was secured, Neil leaned slightly toward her, voice low, almost inaudible over the machines:
"Not bad, Walter. But don't get used to being the hero."
Her lips twitched. "Noted, Dr. Machine."
He didn't respond. Just turned back to the patient, masking the faint, almost imperceptible glimmer of respect in his eyes.
Eva rolled her eyes but inwardly smiled. Victory-just don't expect Neil to say it out loud.
An hour later, the first surgery ended successfully. Neil didn't even pause-three more critical cases awaited him. He peeled off his PPE, swapped gloves, and sprinted to the next OR with surgical precision, leaving barely a second for anyone to catch their breath.
Eva watched him leave, her own scrubbed hands still tingling from the adrenaline of the first operation.
She wasn't the only resident who gets exposure-other eager interns followed Neil into the next OR-but she had a sense of purpose.
Each patient, each procedure, gave her a tiny thrill, even amidst the exhaustion.
With Neil gone, she returned to her rounds, clipboard in hand, moving from bed to bed. Her mind kept replaying the critical steps from the morning surgery, making mental notes of what went perfectly and what could've been improved.
Eva sighed, a mix of exhaustion and excitement settling over her. This was her world now, fast-paced and unforgiving-but exhilarating. She made a mental note to keep sharpening her skills.
Within a minute, her phone buzzed. It was the head nurse:
"Eva, report to OR 2 immediately. You're scrubbing in with Dr. Neil Morris."
"Again?"