Chapter 2 Career and Family Members

Ximena Gonzalez's POV:

Brenda froze, her lips turning pale.

After a moment, she spoke again. "Dr. Albert, there's one more thing I need to report. During the incident, Ximena made promises to the patient using your name without authorization. This violates our department's basic regulations regarding appointment scheduling."

She finished speaking and shot me a provocative look, as if saying: If I'm going down, you're coming with me.

I didn't defend myself. There was nothing to defend—Brenda was stating facts.

If Albert decided to punish me for it, I had nothing to say.

Albert slowly turned around and looked at me again.

I met his gaze without flinching, trying to maintain my composure, though my hands clenched inside my coat pockets, palms slick with sweat.

"Come with me," Albert said, then turned and walked out of the room with effortless confidence.

I hesitated for a second before forcing myself to follow. From the corner of my eye, I caught Brenda's resentful glare.

I ignored her and followed Albert to the second-floor doctors' office. Just as I was about to enter, my phone suddenly rang. It was my grandmother.

"Sorry, I need to take this," I said apologetically to Albert.

Albert nodded and walked into the office ahead of me.

I found a quiet corner and answered the call.

The moment I picked up, my grandmother's anxious sobbing came through. "Ximena, the mob took your uncle."

"Why?" My fingers slowly tightened around the phone.

"I don't know," my grandmother cried desperately. "I told Mateo so many times not to get mixed up with those gangsters, but he wouldn't listen! I heard they cut off people's hands and feet without warning. Ximena, please save your uncle!"

My brow furrowed.

My uncle, Mateo Gonzalez, was in his forties and had never held a steady job. He was always surrounded by shady friends and had caused the family plenty of trouble.

But I couldn't just abandon him—he was my grandmother's only son.

My parents died when I was very young. My grandmother raised me. So no matter how unreliable Mateo was, I had to help him for her sake.

"Grandma, don't cry. I'll come home right away," I said, trying to calm her.

After hanging up, I stood there for two seconds, phone clutched in my hand. Then I took a deep breath, composed myself, and walked into the office.

Albert was sitting at his desk reviewing documents. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating his profile and highlighting the sharp angles of his face.

I wanted to resolve things at the hospital quickly so I could go comfort my grandmother. I walked over and said softly, "Dr. Albert, I apologize for what happened earlier..."

Before I could finish, Albert pushed the document in front of him toward me.

I picked it up and saw: Surgical Plan for Geneva Hospital.

"This is...?" I looked up at him, confused.

"My next surgery is in Geneva," Albert said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze steady on me. "I need an accompanying nurse. You're coming with me."

My mouth opened slightly. I asked carefully, "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"That soon?" I couldn't hide my surprise.

My uncle was still missing, and my grandmother was home alone. How could I leave the country now?

"Is there a problem?" Albert asked coldly, still flipping through his documents.

I hesitated, biting my lip. "Could we wait a few days?"

Albert stopped what he was doing and looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

"Will the patient wait for you to perform surgery?" His voice was cold and carried an undeniable weight.

My ears burned with embarrassment. I knew this was a matter of life and death.

But looking at his stern expression, I realized that if I refused, I might lose my job.

To keep my position, I had to set Mateo's situation aside. I gritted my teeth and agreed. "Then I'll go home and pack."

I turned to leave.

"Wait."

Albert's voice stopped me.

I turned around and saw him pull a white bandage from his drawer. He stood and walked toward me.

"Give me your hand," he said quietly.

I looked down at my hand and only then noticed a thin cut on my right wrist, blood seeping through.

I must have gotten it when I was restraining the disruptive patient earlier. I hadn't even realized.

"I can do it myself," I said, embarrassed.

Albert didn't respond. Instead, he took my hand and began wrapping the bandage gently.

His hands were large and warm. When our skin touched, my palms grew sweaty with nerves.

I'd only ever seen Albert bandage patients before. Being this close to him was a first, and for a fleeting moment, I thought that maybe Dr. Albert wasn't as cold-hearted as the rumors suggested.

"With such a careless personality, how did you even become a nurse?" he said softly.

I wondered if I was imagining things, but his tone didn't sound accusatory—it almost sounded... gentle.

My face began to flush, and my heartbeat quickened.

When Albert finished bandaging my hand, I whispered, "Thank you," and took a step back, trying to put some distance between us.

But there was a desk behind me. My calf hit the corner, and I lost my balance.

A pair of arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me.

I looked up and met Albert's deep gaze.

I could feel his hand against my waist, nearly spanning half of it. His scent filled my nose—faint and clean, like sun-dried cotton.

As our eyes locked, my mind went blank.

"Sorry," I said, snapping back to reality and quickly pulling away from his embrace.

Albert didn't say anything. He simply reminded me, "Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock. Meet at the airport."

"Okay," I replied softly, then fled the office like I was escaping.

I requested leave from the hospital and rushed home to my grandmother's house.

The moment I pushed open the door, I saw chaos inside. Drawers had been yanked open, their contents scattered across the floor. Even the wardrobe doors had been ripped off, with clothes piled on the ground, some bearing dirty footprints.

Clearly, there had been a violent confrontation here.

I walked into the bedroom and found my grandmother curled up in a corner, her hair disheveled, her eyes red and swollen. She looked terrified.

"Grandma." I hurried over and took her hands, checking them carefully. "Are you okay?"

"Ximena, what are we going to do?" The moment she saw me, tears streamed down her face. Her aged voice trembled. "Those men barged in here and said they were going to kill Mateo..."