Doctor Love

Chapter 8

KATE’S POV

The uniform scratched against my skin, new and stiff like everything else in my life lately. I smoothed down the crisp white coat, Dr. Bennett's urgent summons still ringing in my ears. "Come immediately you're done changing," he'd said. .

I hurried down the hallway, rehearsing what I'd say. The murmur of heated voices stopped me dead in my tracks as I approached Dr. Bennett's office.

"It means no more connections. No more favors. No more financial support." The voice was deep, authoritative. "It means you can forget about using the Villa name to open doors. It means you can find your own apartment because you won't be staying in mine."

David stood there, his face a thundercloud of rage, his father right in front of him. I backed away, intending to retreat around the corner until they finished, when Prof. Villa’s eyes caught mine.

The older Mercer's eyes narrowed slightly, then his expression smoothed into practiced politeness. "Ah, you must be Dr. Stanley." He extended his hand. "Richard Villa. David's father."

"Kate," I replied, taking his hand. It was cool and dry, his handshake firm but not aggressive. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Prof. Villa.”

Immediately, he let go of my hand, nodded and strode away, shoulders square, the very picture of medical royalty. The hallway suddenly felt ten degrees colder in his absence.

David's eyes locked onto mine, blue ice chips in a face flushed with humiliation. "How much did you hear?"

I stepped back, adjusting my white coat with as much dignity as I could muster. "I just arrived. Dr. Bennett asked to see me immediately."

"Bullshit." He moved closer, forcing me to step back again. "How. Much. Did. You. Hear?"

"Enough," I admitted, deciding honesty might defuse the situation. "Look, I wasn't eavesdropping intentionally. I was just—"

"Just happened to lurk outside the door during a private conversation?" His laugh was bitter. "How convenient."

I straightened my spine. "Dr. Bennett asked me to come right away. I was about to knock when I realized…”

"Did you enjoy the show, Dr. Stanley?” He interrupted me. “Did it make you feel important to hear the great David Villa getting dressed down?"

"I need to see Dr. Bennett," I said, trying to step around him. "We can discuss this later."

His arm shot out, blocking my path. "We'll discuss it now."

"Move, David." I kept my voice even despite the flutter of unease in my chest. "This is inappropriate."

Instead, he stepped closer, backing me against the wall beside the door. "You think you've won, don't you? The small-town doctor who somehow impressed the great Dr. Bennett." His breath smelled of mint and coffee, his face close enough that I could see the tiny flecks of darker blue in his irises. "Let me tell you something. This little victory? It's temporary."

My back pressed against the cool plaster. "This isn't a competition."

"Everything's a competition." His palm flattened against the wall beside my head. "And I don't lose. Not to anyone, and certainly not to someone like you."

"Someone like me?" The fear in my chest began to curdle into anger. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means," he said, leaning closer, "that you can play the humble hero all you want. You can pretend you're here because you care about people rather than prestige. But we both know you're just as ambitious as I am. Just less honest about it."

I tried to duck under his arm, but he shifted, caging me in. "Move away, David. Now."

"Or what?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Going to run to Bennett? Tell him the big bad doctor was mean to you?"

"I don't need anyone to fight my battles." I met his gaze steadily. "But I also don't need to stand here and be intimidated by you."

"I'm not intimidating you," he said, his voice dropping lower. "I'm giving you fair warning. Do your worst, Kate. Show off. Impress Bennett. It won't matter in the end."

Something snapped inside me.

"My worst?" I let out a harsh laugh. "My worst would be ignoring everything I've learned about you in the past twenty-four hours and giving you the benefit of the doubt. My worst would be pretending you're half the doctor your credentials claim you are."

His jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough." The words poured out now, unstoppable. "I know you couldn't diagnose Frank properly despite your fancy education. I know you talk down to nurses who probably know more about patient care than you ever will. I know you're so insecure about your abilities that you have to belittle everyone around you."

His eyes widened slightly, and I pressed my advantage.

"And now I know something else—that daddy had to pull strings to get you this job because you couldn't manage on your own merit." I tilted my head, examining him like a specimen under glass. "Tell me, does it hurt? Being such a disappointment to the great Villa legacy?"

His face went white, then red, the muscle in his jaw working furiously. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" I pushed against his chest, creating space between us.

He grabbed my wrist, not painfully but firmly enough to hold me in place. "You think you know me? You think because you overheard one conversation, you understand my life?" His voice was dangerously quiet. "You're right about one thing—I was born into the Villa name. But that's not an advantage; it's a prison. Every achievement questioned, every failure magnified. Nothing I do will ever be enough because I'll always be compared to him."

For a moment, I glimpsed something raw and genuine in his expression, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"Not that you'd understand," he continued, his mask of arrogance sliding back into place. "You get to be the underdog. The scrappy local doctor who made good. No one expects perfection from you."

"No one except myself," I shot back. "And unlike you, I don't need to tear others down to feel successful. I don't need to intimidate colleagues or bully support staff to feel important."

His grip on my wrist tightened slightly. "You think I'm a bully? You don't know what bullying is."

"I know exactly what it is. I'm looking at it right now." I yanked my arm free. "A spoiled, rich daddy's boy who's never faced real consequences for his actions."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. Before I could react, his hand shot up, fingers wrapping around my throat. Not squeezing—just resting there, a threat made flesh.

"Say that again," he whispered, his face inches from mine.

Time seemed to freeze. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I refused to show fear. This was a power play, nothing more. He wouldn't actually hurt me—not here, not with Dr. Bennett just behind that door. But the fact that he'd go this far...

"Get your hand off me," I said, each word precise and deadly calm. "Now."

For a moment, I thought he might tighten his grip. I could see the battle raging behind his eyes—rage versus reason, impulse versus consequence.

"You're not worth my career," he finally said, dropping his hand.

"And you're not worth my fear," I replied, straightening my coat. "But let's get one thing clear, Dr. Villa. If you ever touch me like that again, I won't just report you to Dr. Bennett. I'll file assault charges so fast your head will spin. Legacy or no legacy."

He opened his mouth to respond, his face contorted with fury and a scream ripped through the air, followed by a crash and shouting from the direction of the reception area.

Our eyes met, mutual hatred momentarily eclipsed by professional instinct.

"What was that?" I whispered.

Another scream, this one more urgent. "Help! We need a doctor! NOW!"

Without a word, David spun away from me, already sprinting toward the commotion. I was right behind him, our argument forgotten in the face of what mattered most—a patient in need.