They were my hands, the hands of a 38-year-old surgeon at the peak of his career, not the weak, trembling hands of a dying prisoner. The memories of the

ou've seen a ghost," Olivia said, her vo

etime of love now looked like a mask for deceit. I saw the cunning behi

ice steadier than I felt.

ors was a sound I had once found comforting, but now it sounded like a ticking clock, counting down to the moment of betr

rison hadn't dulled my muscle memory. This was where I belonged. For the first hour, everything

mo

w by the surgical drape, shifted his weight. His hand slipped below the level of the operating tab

t wait

ing an unmistakable edge of command. "Eyes on th

ead snapping up. "It

very thirty seconds," I ordered. "And

Liam' s face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and ange

pected, did n

irritation. "You're treating him like a child. He's perfectly

I replied, not looking up from the delicate work of dissect

rising. The arrogance was back, fueled by Oliv

?" I asked coolly. "Just call out the

iam. The formal address was a clear line drawn in the sand.

ve family on the board of this hospital. I don't need to be

e from my past life, barely re

said flatly. "Here, there are only doctors and a pati

strument onto the sterile tray with a

his voice trembling with s

anesthesiologist, gasped. "Dr. Davis, you

d!" Liam sneered, mimicking Olivia's future words.

ith her for a shred of professionalism

e was looking at Liam's retreating back with concern, not fo

s on yourself, E

he hallway where Liam had just disappeared. Olivia's head snapped toward the sound. She p

t was Liam. He was calling her. In the middle of a hear

shing over me. It was happening

, my voice a low warning. "That man on the table i

with a pure, unadulterated selfishness that chilled me