The hospital smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion.
Kim Monami Anxin preferred it that way.
Clean. Controlled. Predictable.
Unlike him.
"Dr. Anxin, the patient in Room 304 is asking for you again."
She didn't look up from the file in her hands. "Tell him I'll be there in five minutes."
The nurse hesitated.
"He said he won't let anyone else treat him."
Anxin sighed softly, closing the file.
Of course he wouldn't.
"Fine," she said, standing up. "I'll handle it."
As she walked down the corridor, her expression shifted—professional, composed, unreadable.
No one here knew about her connection to Wang Hedi.
And she intended to keep it that way.
Room 304.
She pushed the door open.
And immediately froze.
The man sitting on the bed wasn't just any patient.
He was dressed too well for someone admitted overnight. Expensive watch. Sharp eyes. The kind of presence that didn't belong in a hospital—
Unless something had gone very wrong.
"You took your time, doctor," he said lazily, leaning back like he owned the place.
Anxin recovered quickly, stepping inside.
"I have other patients."
"But I'm the most interesting one."
"I doubt that."
A faint smirk appeared on his lips.
"Straight to the point. I like that."
She ignored the comment, flipping open his chart.
"Name?"
He tilted his head slightly, studying her instead of answering.
"You don't recognize me?"
"No."
"Good."
That was... strange.
Anxin frowned slightly, checking the file again.
"Then I'll ask again. Name."
"Seo Jisung."
The way he said it felt intentional.
Like he wanted her to remember it.
She nodded briefly and began examining his injury—a gunshot wound, recently treated but not clean enough to her standards.
"You were lucky," she said.
"I don't believe in luck."
"Then you should start."
He chuckled softly, watching her work.
"You're calm."
"I'm doing my job."
"Most doctors panic when they see something like this."
"I'm not most doctors."
That earned a genuine reaction.
Interest.
Real interest.
"Clearly."
Silence settled between them as she cleaned the wound, her movements precise.
But she could feel his gaze on her.
Constant.
Unapologetic.
"You don't ask questions," he said after a moment.
"I ask the ones that matter."
"And the rest?"
"Are none of my business."
Another pause.
Then—
"That's dangerous."
Her hands didn't stop.
"So is getting shot."
That made him laugh.
A low, amused sound.
"I like you, doctor."
Anxin finally looked at him, her expression neutral.
"That's not relevant."
"It could be."
"No," she said calmly, finishing the bandage. "It really couldn't."
She stepped back, removing her gloves.
"You'll recover. Avoid unnecessary movement."
"Unnecessary?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That depends on what you consider necessary."
She ignored that too.
"Someone will come to discharge you later."
"And you?"
"I have work."
She turned toward the door—
"Do you know Wang Hedi?"
Her steps stopped instantly.
Just for a second.
Too quick for most people to notice.
But not for him.
Slowly, she turned back.
Her expression hadn't changed.
But her eyes had.
"Why?"
Jisung smiled slightly.
"No reason."
"That's not how questions work."
"Curiosity, then."
Anxin held his gaze.
Careful.
Measured.
Dangerous territory.
"I don't discuss my personal life with patients."
"Interesting," he murmured. "So it is personal."
Silence.
Sharp.
Uncomfortable.
Then—
The door opened again.
A nurse stepped in. "Dr. Anxin, you're needed—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Because someone else had entered behind her.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Heavy.
Cold.
Familiar.
Anxin didn't need to turn around.
She already knew.
Wang Hedi.
Jisung noticed it too.
The shift.
The tension.
The way the air itself seemed to tighten.
Slowly, Anxin turned.
And there he was.
Standing at the door.
Black suit. Perfectly composed. No trace of last night's injuries visible.
Like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn't been bleeding in her living room just hours ago.
His eyes found hers first.
Always hers.
Then—
They moved.
To the man sitting on the bed.
And something dark flickered beneath the surface.
Dangerous.
Possessive.
Silent.
Jisung leaned back slightly, clearly entertained now.
"Well," he said casually, "this is interesting."
Anxin's heart was steady.
But her mind wasn't.
Because she knew that look on Hedi's face.
She had seen it before.
Right before something bad happened.
"Didi—" she started.
But he didn't respond.
His gaze stayed locked on Jisung.
Cold.
Calculating.
Territorial.
"What are you doing here?" Hedi asked.
Calm voice.
Deadly undertone.
Jisung smiled faintly.
"Getting treated."
"By her?"
Something in the way he said it—
Made the room colder.
Anxin stepped forward slightly.
"I'm his doctor."
Hedi's eyes flicked to her.
For a second.
That same unreadable expression.
Then back to Jisung.
"He'll get another one."
"No," Anxin said firmly.
That made both men look at her.
"I'm already assigned to this case. I'll handle it."
Jisung's smile widened.
Hedi's expression darkened.
And just like that—
The tension snapped into something sharper.
More dangerous.
More personal.
Jisung leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Seems like she's in charge here."
Hedi didn't respond.
But his eyes said enough.
This wasn't about the patient anymore.
This was about her.
And suddenly—
Anxin realized something.
This wasn't just another day at the hospital.
This was the beginning of a problem.
One that involved both men.
And her.
Right in the middle.
Jisung broke the silence again, his voice light—but intentional.
"Doctor," he said, not taking his eyes off Hedi, "I'll be seeing you again... right?"
Anxin didn't answer immediately.
Because she could feel Hedi's gaze on her now.
Waiting.
Watching.
And for the first time—
There was something unfamiliar in it.
Not just protectiveness.
Not just control.
But something sharper.
Something dangerously close to—
Jealousy.
"Yes," she said finally.
Professional.
Steady.
Final.
"I'll be your doctor."
That was all it took.
The air in the room shifted again.
Hedi's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
Jisung smiled like he had just won something.
And Anxin—
She knew.
Nothing about this was going to stay simple anymore.