Chapter 1

In the heat of midsummer, the rain poured heavily at midnight.

Oliver Bruno had just gone through a breakup with her boyfriend, her phone was dead, and her wallet was stolen.

Of all places, she ran into her ex-boyfriend Max Harold at the bus stop.

In the end, she ended up in his car, completely confused.

Sitting in the passenger seat, soaked through, Max suddenly leaned over.

Oliver startled. "Buckle your seat belt." The click of the seat belt echoed, and Max drew back.

"Why didn't David Jerome come to pick you up?"

His voice was cold, tinged with a hint of exhaustion and detachment.

Oliver closed her eyes, too tired to care, "He's busy."

David Jerome was her current boyfriend, whom she had met through an arranged match, and also the chief physician treating her father.

As for Max Harold, he had become David's superior at the hospital just the day after her father was admitted.

It all felt like a dream.

The person she had waited for, for seven years, had suddenly appeared in front of her, witnessing her most embarrassing moment.

The air conditioning in the car was cranked up high, but Oliver, drenched to the bone, couldn't help but shiver.

Max glanced at her briefly, then turned up the temperature on the AC.

A silence fell between them, and Oliver hesitated before speaking. "Do you think my dad's tumor can get better?"

"Your father's not my patient," Max replied quickly, his tone distant.

Oliver froze, her throat tight with unshed tears.

The photo of David and another woman she'd seen that afternoon—his intimate photos with someone else—had made her angry enough to break up with him. But nothing felt as humiliating as this.

There was no further conversation between them.

Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a run-down apartment building.

At that moment, Oliver's emotions were all over the place.

She never imagined that after seven years, after all the changes, after the cement road outside her old neighborhood had been paved twice over, Max would still remember where she lived.

She turned her head slightly, glancing at Max, testing the waters.

"Mr. Harold, thank you for tonight."

Max glanced at her sharply, his gaze piercing, as if he could see through her thoughts.

Without a word, he pressed the car's door button, and the lock clicked loudly, as if signaling the end of the ride.

It was also like a slap in the face.

He was only doing this out of kindness, and yet she foolishly hoped that he still cared for her.

Oliver could no longer sit still. As she half-opened the door to get out, a voice from outside stopped her.

"David, slow down a bit. I'm so tired, I can't keep up."

She looked up to see David, arm around a slender woman, walking out of the building.

Their conversation was crystal clear.

"Tell me, between me and Oliver, who's better?"

"Of course, you're better. That woman, Oliver, we've been dating for three months, and she won't even let me touch her. Even if she finds out, what's she gonna do? She's counting on me to treat her dad, but she doesn't have the guts to make a scene."

The two of them walked over to a parked Lamborghini, continuing their conversation.

Oliver trembled with anger, her body shaking.

Even though they were already broken up, she was still disgusted by them.

Max, who had remained silent until then, suddenly spoke up. "Aren't you going to go after them?"

Oliver looked up, their gazes meeting. Her eyes, which were clouded with unshed tears, could melt the heart of any man.

"Can you take me away?"

Max stared at her for three seconds before lowering his voice. "Under what circumstances are you asking me to take you away?"

Oliver stared at Max Harold, her mind swirling with chaotic emotions, desperately searching for an outlet.

Eventually, she closed her eyes, grabbed his collar, and resolutely pressed herself against him.

In the confined space of the car, the silence was deafening, with only their breaths filling the air.

After a long time, Oliver finally pulled away, opening her eyes to look at Max. "Is this… enough for you to take me away?"

Max didn't speak. Her heart sank bit by bit.

Oliver lowered her head, feeling like she had truly lost her mind.

Just as she was about to leave, he grabbed her wrist. "Did I say you could leave?"

Half an hour later, the car arrived at a hotel.

Three minutes later, they entered the room, one walking ahead of the other.

The door locked with a click, and the temperature in the room seemed to rise.

Oliver felt uneasy.

Max walked towards her. Every step he took, she took one back, until she was pressed against the wall.

"What are you running from?" He came close, his voice low. "Weren't you feeling bold just now?"

In an instant, Oliver's face flushed, spreading down her neck and ears.

She had been reckless just moments ago, but now that she was more aware, she instinctively shrank back.

"I'll… I'll go wash up first."

She hurriedly threw the words over her shoulder and rushed into the bathroom, her steps hurried as though afraid Max would catch her.

Chapter 2

Half an hour later.

Oliver emerged from the bathroom to find the room still, with no sign of Max.

To her surprise, he was asleep on the sofa.

She walked over, taking a moment to observe him.

Seven years apart had stripped away his youthful look, leaving him even more handsome and composed—an aura that drew you in like a magnetic field.

Without thinking, she found herself leaning in closer, close enough to feel his breath.

In his sleep, Max raised his hand slightly, and Oliver jolted back to her senses, immediately distancing herself.

She watched his long, graceful fingers for a moment before gently covering him with a light blanket, then going to sleep in the bed herself.

That night, Oliver slept restlessly.

The next morning, she woke to the sound of her phone ringing. She looked around at the empty room and felt a pang of emptiness.

She had always been overly sentimental.

Seven years ago, she gave Max all of herself, and the next day he broke up with her and went abroad, leaving no word behind.

Now, what was left of her that could still attract him?

The phone rang again.

She picked it up, and the voice on the other end was urgent. "Miss Bruno, your father's condition has worsened and he's been taken to the emergency room. You need to come to the hospital right away!"

Oliver's heart skipped a beat. She could no longer care about anything else and rushed to the hospital.

Oliver Bruno didn't dare to meet Max Harold's gaze, lowering his head in shame, feeling as if a lump of cotton was blocking his heart, making it hard to breathe.

A few minutes later, after Max Harold finished his examination, he left the ward with a blank expression.

"Dr. Harold, wait a moment!" Oliver Bruno chased after him into the corridor. The words he had said outside the operating room echoed in his mind. Only that Professor Smith could possibly save his father's life. He wanted to ask Max Harold for help, but he didn't know how to start. Why would he help him?

After stammering for a long time, he still couldn't say it, while Max Harold misunderstood his intentions.

"You're still the same as seven years ago, full of lies." He looked down at Oliver Bruno with a cold tone, "Facing your father lying in the hospital bed, you can still speak so unflinchingly. It really opens my eyes."

After saying that, he turned and left.

Oliver Bruno's face turned pale. He knew lying was wrong, but he didn't understand why Max Harold would say he was "full of lies." From their acquaintance to their romance, he had never deceived him. Moreover, it was he who had betrayed him seven years ago! What kind of feelings did he have now to say such things?

Oliver Bruno felt weak all over, leaning against the wall as he slowly walked back to the ward. Just as he was about to push the door open, someone suddenly pulled him back.

He turned to see David Jerome.

"Bruno, we need to talk."

Without regard for his resistance, David Jerome dragged him into the lounge beside the ward.

With only the two of them in the lounge, Oliver Bruno worried that David Jerome would act recklessly again, and this time, there might not be Max Harold to save him.

He took out his phone and showed him the explicit photos he had received earlier.

"You're with another woman, and the photos have been sent to my phone! If you keep pestering me, I won't hesitate to send these photos out."

"Bruno, I know you are currently under assessment for a promotion. If you don't want to ruin your future, it's best not to provoke me!"

David Jerome's expression turned anxious.

Oliver Bruno turned to leave, but David Jerome stepped in front of the door again.

"Fine, you win." David Jerome's expression darkened: "We can break up, but you must accompany me to Dean Ellen's house for dinner tomorrow. After I win the election for department head, I'll break up with you."

Recently, David Jerome had gained a lot of favor by running errands for his "future father-in-law." If news of his infidelity got out now, it would have a significant impact on him.

"Why should I cooperate with you?"

"Because your dad is still in this hospital," David Jerome threatened, "He's hoping you'll get married soon. If I tell him I don't want you anymore, what do you think will happen?"

Thinking of his father in the hospital bed, Oliver Bruno had no choice but to agree.

The next day, Oliver Bruno went to Dean Ellen's house with David Jerome.

He knocked on the door, which opened immediately, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw who was inside.

How could Max Harold be here?!

Max Harold glanced at their matching outfits, his expression inscrutable.

Oliver Bruno didn't dare to look at him, subconsciously smoothing his skirt. This outfit was forced on him by David Jerome, making him feel particularly awkward.

Once inside, Oliver Bruno greeted Dean Ellen's wife, "Teacher Clare, it's been a long time."

Dean Ellen's wife, surnamed Clare, was his university teacher and had always cared for him.

Dean Ellen took David Jerome to the cellar to fetch wine.

David Jerome, eager to show off in front of Dean Ellen, readily went along.

In the living room, Oliver Bruno helped Clare arrange flowers.

"Bruno, sit down for a moment. I'll go get my reading glasses."

As Clare left, only Oliver Bruno and Max Harold were left in the living room.

Oliver Bruno felt Max Harold's presence was particularly strong.

When he looked up, he accidentally locked eyes with him.

His intense gaze made Oliver Bruno uneasy, so he forced himself to focus on the bouquet of lilies on the coffee table.

Chapter 3

As he reached for the scissors to shorten the stems, Max Harold suddenly reached out, pulling the flowers from his hand and snapping the stems with a loud "pop."

Startled, Oliver Bruno's hand trembled as he looked at him, instinctively annoyed, "Why didn't you be gentler?"

Before he could finish, Max Harold suddenly pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his waist. It was as if he had torn away the layer of indifference, revealing a fiercely aggressive side, kissing him passionately!

The next moment, a loud crash echoed behind them as a wine bottle shattered.

Oliver Bruno quickly broke free from Max Harold's embrace, glancing back in panic to see Clare standing at the top of the stairs, her face filled with shock!

In an instant, Oliver Bruno felt his mind go blank.

Clare Horace's gaze burned into him, making him feel utterly humiliated.

At that moment, David Jerome and Dean Ellen returned with the wine.

David Jerome noticed the broken bottle at Clare's feet. "Teacher Clare, are you hurt?"

He placed the wine on the table and turned to Oliver Bruno, "Why do you look so pale? Were you scared?"

Oliver Bruno shook his head, forcing himself to appear calm.

But after cleaning up the shards, his palms were drenched in sweat. When he returned to the sofa, he instinctively glanced at Max Harold.

He appeared calm, adjusting the arrangement of the flowers.

Dean Ellen joked, "Max's flower arranging skills are quite impressive."

Max Harold, hearing this, withdrew his hand but suddenly fixed his gaze on Oliver Bruno, speaking slowly, "I can do well in other areas too."

The emphasis on the word "do" made Oliver Bruno's heart race, and he quickly glanced at Max Harold's covered thigh, his face flushing with embarrassment.

"Cough, since the wine is here, let's eat. Bruno, help me serve the dishes."

Clare said, pulling Oliver Bruno into the kitchen.

"Bruno, you're still young. Don't let yourself get caught in an embarrassing relationship. Otherwise, you'll definitely be the one who gets hurt, understand?"

Faced with his teacher's concern, Oliver Bruno felt he had no words to respond, only nodding.

Agreeing to continue pretending to be in a loving relationship with David Jerome was truly terrible...

At the dining table, oblivious to everything, David Jerome continued to play the role of the caring boyfriend, serving Oliver Bruno food.

"Bruno, try this shrimp."

"She's allergic to shrimp," Max Harold interjected casually.

The atmosphere at the table suddenly became subtle.

Oliver Bruno felt that this act was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.

"Max is really attentive; you remembered after I mentioned it casually." Clare laughed, trying to ease the tension, then turned to David Jerome, "David, even though you're busy with work, you should care for your girlfriend more."

David Jerome nodded and then looked at Max Harold, "Thanks, Dr. Harold, for caring so much for my family."

Max Harold, upon hearing this, casually glanced over, "Your family? What's this? Are you two getting engaged soon?"

"Not yet!"

Oliver Bruno instinctively denied it, but his heart sank.

David Jerome's expression changed, and he tightened his grip on Oliver Bruno's hand, warningly squeezing, then smiled at everyone, "Right now, we're only focused on Mr. Bruno's health; other matters can wait."

Max Harold lowered his gaze, fixating on their intertwined hands, his expression inscrutable.

Among them, only Dean Ellen remained oblivious to the tension, continuing the conversation, "A few days ago, Max was still discussing Mr. Bruno's condition with me."

Oliver Bruno looked at Max Harold in surprise, their gazes locking. His dark eyes seemed to hold a tremendous pull, making him quickly avert his gaze.

He tensed up, continuing to listen.

Dean Ellen, mentioning the patient, grew slightly serious: "Mr. Bruno's condition is indeed not optimistic. If we could invite Professor Smith to perform the surgery, the risks would be halved."

"Max, Professor Smith is your mentor; as colleagues, please do your best."

"Helping patients is my duty as a doctor," Max Harold replied coldly.

Oliver Bruno couldn't gauge whether he would be willing to help her.

But soon, the topic shifted again.

After dinner, Max Harold received a phone call and left first.

Oliver Bruno accompanied David Jerome, enduring until nine o'clock before leaving.

David Jerome seemed in a good mood, "Let's go; I'll take you home."

Oliver Bruno, already exhausted, didn't want to pretend anymore: "No need; just take care of yourself."

At that moment, there were no acquaintances by the roadside, and David Jerome, too lazy to keep up the act, turned and walked away when he saw Oliver Bruno's refusal.

As David Jerome's car drove away, Oliver Bruno was about to head to the bus stop when he caught sight of a familiar Maybach behind him.

Wasn't that Max Harold's car? He hadn't left yet?

After hesitating for a moment, Oliver Bruno mustered the courage to walk toward the Maybach and knocked on the window.

He wanted to discuss his father's condition with him.

It would be difficult to ask Professor Smith for help, but even a glimmer of hope was worth pursuing.

The window rolled down, revealing Max Harold's stern face and his intensely aggressive gaze.

Oliver Bruno couldn't help but recall the kiss from before.

He bit his lip, suppressing his shyness and asked, "Dr. Harold, could you give me a ride?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the locked gaze seemed to ignite, but Max Harold's tone remained leisurely, "I'm heading back to the hotel. Are you sure you want to come with me?"

Oliver Bruno didn't refuse.

The ride back to the hotel was swift.