The hospital smelled like antiseptic, exhaustion, and sleepless nights.

Divyanka finally stepped out of the operation theatre after a six-hour surgery, pulling her gloves off tiredly.

A strand of hair clung to her forehead.

“Successful?” one nurse asked nervously.

Divyanka nodded weakly.

“The patient is stable now.”

Before she could even breathe properly, another nurse rushed toward her.

“Ma’am,” she said quickly, “there’s a man in emergency care. He’s bleeding badly from his hand.”

Divyanka sighed softly.

“Where’s the on-duty doctor?”

“He’s busy with another case.”

Divyanka nodded.

“Fine. Take me there.”

She walked toward the small treatment room, tired footsteps echoing through the hallway.

Then she entered.

And paused.

A man sat lazily on the bed, one arm resting behind his head like he was at a café instead of a hospital.

Black shirt.

Tattooed neck.

Silver rings.

Dangerous eyes.

Blood dripped from his hand onto the floor.

But the strangest thing?

He was smiling.

At her.

Divyanka frowned immediately.

“You’re bleeding and you’re smiling?”

The man’s smirk deepened.

“You came.”

Her brows furrowed.

“What?”

“Nothing, doctor.”

Weird.

Very weird.

Divyanka sat in front of him anyway and grabbed his injured hand.

The cut was deep.

But not deep enough to explain the dramatic amount of blood.

“You should’ve gotten stitches earlier,” she muttered while cleaning the wound.

The man hissed softly but kept staring at her face instead of the injury.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly.

Divyanka didn’t even look up.

“Doctors don’t flirt with patients.”

“Good thing I’m flirting alone then.”

She rolled her eyes.

Definitely insane.

As she wrapped the bandage around his hand carefully, the man watched her like she was something unreal.

“Done,” she said finally.

“Come tomorrow for dressing change.”

The man smiled slowly.

“Oh, I definitely will.”

Outside the room—

Aaron Casanova stood near the corridor.

Watching.

His expression unreadable.

Then his eyes landed on the man inside.

And instantly darkened.

The man looked up too.

Recognition flashed between them immediately.

Dangerous recognition.

Past enemies.

Old blood.

The man smirked lazily.

Aaron said nothing.

He simply walked away coldly.

But his jaw had tightened.

The Next Day

“Ma’am…” the nurse said nervously.

Divyanka looked up from her files.

“What now?”

“The same man is here again.”

Divyanka blinked.

“What?”

“He reopened his wound somehow.”

Divyanka frowned deeply.

“Is he stupid?”

Five minutes later—

She entered the room again.

And there he was.

Smiling.

Again.

“You.”

The man placed his injured hand dramatically over his heart.

“You remembered me.”

Divyanka deadpanned.

“You’re bleeding on my hospital floor.”

“Romantic, no?”

She stared at him in disbelief.

“What is wrong with you?”

The man leaned closer slightly.

“You tell me, doctor.”

Divyanka grabbed his wrist.

“This wound was healing yesterday,” she said suspiciously.

“How did this happen?”

He looked straight into her eyes.

“Accident.”

Lie.

Blatant lie.

But before she could say anything—

The door opened.

Aaron entered.

His sharp gaze instantly landed on:

Divyanka touching the man’s hand

the man staring at her

the ridiculous smirk on his face

The room became colder.

Divyanka looked back.

“Aaron?”

The man chuckled softly.

“Well,” he drawled, “if it isn’t Aaron Casanova.”

Aaron’s eyes turned icy.

“Raven Vasiliev.”

Divyanka looked between them.

Wait.

They knew each other?

Raven Vasiliev.

That name alone sounded dangerous.

And it was.

One of the most feared underground mafia figures in Eastern Europe.

Cold.

Violent.

Unpredictable.

Aaron stepped closer slowly.

“You’re alive,” Aaron said flatly.

Raven smirked.

“Disappointed?”

Divyanka looked confused.

“You two know each other?”

Raven answered before Aaron could.

“He shot me once.”

Aaron corrected coldly,

“You deserved worse.”

Divyanka blinked.

Excuse me???

Meanwhile Raven just looked entertained.

Then suddenly—

he turned toward Divyanka again.

“Anyway, doctor,” he said casually, lifting his injured hand,

“my wound hurts again.”

Aaron’s patience snapped slightly.

“You’re reopening it intentionally.”

Silence.

Divyanka froze.

Raven smiled slowly.

“Well,” he admitted shamelessly,

“how else would she hold my hand every day?”

Divyanka’s eyes widened.

“What?!”

Aaron looked murderous now.

Actually murderous.

Raven leaned back lazily.

“I cut it a little every morning.”

“Worth it.”

Divyanka stared at him like he had escaped a mental asylum.

“You’re insane.”

Raven looked pleased.

“Thank you.”

Aaron stepped forward instantly and grabbed Raven by the collar.

The atmosphere exploded.

“You touch this hospital again,” Aaron said dangerously low,

“and I’ll finish what I started years ago.”

Raven laughed softly despite being pinned.

“There it is,” he whispered.

“The jealousy.”

Aaron’s grip tightened.

“I don’t get jealous.”

Raven looked toward Divyanka knowingly.

“Sure.”

Divyanka’s heartbeat skipped.

Aaron immediately released him roughly and turned away.

But Raven’s smirk only deepened.

Because he had seen it.

The possessiveness.

The anger.

The way Aaron’s eyes darkened whenever another man touched Divyanka.

And suddenly—

this became far more entertaining for Raven than the pain ever was.