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CHAPTER FIVE

NEW YORK

I step into my private office at the hospital I co-own with two business partners who are also physicians, and out of sheer curiosity, I press two fingers to the side of my neck to check my pulse.

No surprise—it’s perfectly steady, as if I’ve been resting for twenty minutes instead of just having walked out of an operating room after saving the life of an Arab tycoon.

The surgery was long, the odds of survival minimal. At least, that would’ve been the case in anyone else’s hands. Not in mine. I accept nothing less than resurrection.

There’s a certain irony in the fact that a man incapable of love is the same man who makes other people’s hearts beat again—especially considering how many cling to the cliché that the heart is where feelings reside.

But the truth is, the brain is in charge of everything. The heart is merely a receptor of emotion.

I think of the nickname the global medical community has given me and my two business partners: Gods in White.

Yes, we are. Every day, we hold lives in our hands and bring them back from the edge—returning them to their homes and families . . . families often just as toxic as mine.

The reminder of tonight’s dinner— the dinner—inevitably shifts my thoughts to the future.

I need heirs. And I’m on the path to getting them.

But instead of feeling content, I feel as though there’s a thick rope wrapped around my throat.

I’ve spent the years since med school in a long line of short-term relationships with women who mean absolutely nothing to me—until a few years ago, when Athanasios? 1 , William? 2 , and I had a conversation.

We agreed it was time to settle down. We’re all in the same age bracket—I'm about three years younger than both of them—and we’ve achieved every professional milestone imaginable.

We’re three surgeons considered the best in our fields.

Athanasios is a world-class neurosurgeon.

William is a reconstructive plastic surgeon, specializing in burn victims.

And I . . . I deal with hearts.

I’ve saved the lives of kings, diplomats, global leaders.

There’s nowhere left to climb. The summit’s behind me, and everything beyond it feels more like routine than challenge.

The only true challenge left?

My personal life—and the massive step I’ve informally committed to: marriage.

Athanasios and William are more like family to me than my actual brothers or cousin, and yet . . . I haven’t told either of them about the damn almost-engagement.

Why haven’t I?

A psychoanalyst might say that it’s because once I tell them, there’s no turning back.

I’ve forbidden Jodie—my girlfriend and soon-to-be fiancée, whom I’ve been seeing for four months now—and anyone else in my family from announcing the news until I give the go-ahead.

For now, it’s a secret arrangement, although my mother looks like she’s ready to burst if she doesn’t scream to the world that she’ll finally be a grandmother in the next few years.

I’m not the kind of man who hesitates once a decision’s made. I laid out my terms to the woman I chose, and she accepted every one.

A marriage of convenience. Separate lives under the same roof.

Two children—max. A pre-negotiated divorce in five years.

A mutually beneficial open sexual relationship, no emotional involvement allowed.

Discretion regarding affairs. Ten million dollars for an amicable divorce when the time comes, although I doubt I’ll endure five years.

Still, it’s the best deal possible—and the contract is scheduled to be signed tonight. The engagement will be released to the global press right after.

Perfect, from my point of view. Heirs will come, and I’ll be free in just a few years.

I should feel satisfied, but I don’t. Not even close. The idea of wasting years with someone who has nothing in common with me—even in an open marriage—fills me with irritation.

The door to my office swings open, and the two men who might as well share my DNA walk in.

“The expansion starts soon,” Athanasios says, skipping any kind of greeting and dropping into one of the chairs in front of my desk—completely unaware of the mess in my usually pragmatic mind.

“What’s wrong?” William asks. Not because he’s the most emotionally intuitive of us but because he has that annoying ability to pick up on what others try to hide.

“Nothing,” I lie. I’m not ready to talk about Jodie yet. Maybe later—after tonight’s dinner at my parents’ house, where the engagement will be officially announced. “Any news on who faked the DNA tests?”

Their expressions darken.

“No,” Athanasios answers, rubbing both hands over his face—a rare gesture from someone who usually keeps a tight lid on emotion.

Months ago, the DNA results of two of Athanasios’s med students—one Italian, one Australian—were swapped during their training, causing great inconvenience and embarrassment to my business partner.

We know it wasn’t a mistake. But despite all our efforts, we still have no idea who pulled the stunt.

“Maybe it’s time to involve the police,” I suggest.

“I don’t think that’s wise,” William cuts in. “We’ve already paid experts from all over the world and gotten nowhere. The chances the police will do better are slim to none. The only thing we’ll accomplish is giving the bastard a heads-up that we’re onto him—and bringing bad press down on us.”

“If he has half a working brain, he already knows.”

“He?” William smirks. “Could be a ‘they.’ Or even a ‘she.’ God knows we’ve left more than a few pissed-off women in our wake—especially back in med school.”

“There’s no way it was more than one person,” Athanasios says. “This was a solo act. Someone patient, playing the long game, messing with our heads while we try to guess when the next strike is coming.”

“Or just some bored tech nerd with a God complex, looking for a thrill.”

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s pure blasphemy—because we’re the only ones who get to play God,” William says.

“With bodies, not minds,” I correct.

“Speak for yourself,” Athanasios grins. “I like messing with people’s minds.” It’s a rare moment of humor from him, thanks to his specialty.

“You having dinner with your parents tonight?” William asks.

“Yeah. Jodie and I will be there.”

They exchange a look, and I catch the faint lines of amusement around their eyes.

We’ve known each other too long—not much needs to be said aloud.

Athanasios is married to Brooklyn? 3 —the woman he pulled out of a coma.

William is about to become a father. His relationship with Taylor? 4 , the mother of his daughter, still has its complications, but he’s on track.

They’re both following through with the plan we made years ago: building families.

And they both seem satisfied with that fact.

Me?

Even with my “marriage plan” in motion, I feel like I’ve already jumped.

And the rope is tightening around my neck long before I hit the ground.

1 ? The protagonist of The Arrogant's Surrender .

2 ? The protagonist of Arrogant and Merciless .

3 ? Protagonist of The Arrogant's Surrender .

4 ? Protagonist of Arrogant and Merciless .