He doesn’t ask; He takes

ISABEL MAYS

I didn’t notice the time passing. The lab was quiet, machines humming softly, monitors blinking in rhythm with my heartbeat. 

I adjusted the sample under the microscope, careful not to disturb anything. Three years of work had led me here, to the point where I finally felt I could make a difference.

“Isabel, you’ve got a visitor,” one of the lab assistants said, peeking in. “Someone… important. He says it’s urgent.”

I frowned. “Important how? Is it a donor? A collaborator? What kind of visitor would come by at 2am?”

The assistant hesitated. “He…he didn’t give a name. Just said it’s about your research. He seemed..very serious.” 

Serious was an understatement. I had learned over the years that “serious” usually meant trouble. But I shrugged it off. “Fine. Send him in.” 

The door opened and he stepped in. 

He was tall, dark, broad shouldered. Everything about him screamed power. His eyes, a sharp gray, scanned the room, landing on me with the weight of someone used to getting what he wanted.

“Isabel Mays?” His voice was low, commanding. “I need your help.”

I froze for a fraction of a second, then straightened. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that. What kind of help?”

He stepped closer. Too close. I instinctively took a step back. “My brother,” he said simply. “He’s dying. No one can help him. Except you. You have the cure, or at least the knowledge to save him and you will help me.”

I blinked. I couldn’t process the bluntness of it.

“You… you just tell me to help you? You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have time for introductions,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Lives are at stake. And I don’t take no for an answer.”

I felt my blood boil. Who did he think he was? Striding into my lab, demanding my expertise like it was a simple favor? I opened my mouth to respond.

“I don’t work for you,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I have my patients, my research, my own work. I don’t owe anyone anything, least of all someone who barges in here like…”

He raised a hand, cutting me off. “I don’t care about your obligations, your principles, or your ethics. My brother is dying. And you…Isabel Mays is the only one who can save him. So you will. End of discussion.”

I laughed. A short, sharp laugh, more in disbelief than amusement. “Do you even understand what you’re asking? I can’t just…just drop everything and follow you. That’s not how this works!”

His eyes darkened. “I understand perfectly. I also understand that every second you hesitate could be his last.”

I swallowed hard. His words struck me in a way no scientific data ever could. 

He wasn’t threatening me directly, but the intensity of his presence made my pulse skip.

“I… I need time,” I whispered, stepping back.

“You don’t get time,” he said. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you and if you refuse…” His tone softened slightly, just enough to make it more dangerous. “Then you’re letting him die.”

I turned away, my hands shaking. I had trained my entire life to solve impossible problems, to save lives with precision and logic. But this? This wasn’t an experiment. 

This wasn’t a case study. This was someone else’s life, someone I had never met, resting on my shoulders and a man who refused to take no for an answer.

“I can’t just..” I started, then stopped. My thoughts scattered. My instincts screamed at me to run, to hide, to lock myself away and never answer the call. But something in his eyes held me there. Something that wasn’t just demand. Something that… hurt.

“You’re staring,” he said, not unkindly. “I don’t need admiration. I need action.”

I exhaled slowly. “And who are you, exactly? Why should I trust you?”

He paused, as if considering whether to answer. Then, in a softer tone, he said, “I’m his brother. That’s all you need to know and right now, that’s everything.”

I swallowed. Simple, brutal, honest, and no games. Just stakes.

“And what makes you think I even want to get involved in your personal life?” I snapped, more out of fear than anger. “I’ve spent years saving strangers, patients I care about, children, families… and you..”

“I know,” he interrupted, voice firm. “I know your work. I saw the broadcast. I saw you explaining the cure. I know you can do this. And I also know that someone..someone who doesn’t want you to succeed is already trying to stop you.”

I froze. He was right. I felt it. Subtle obstacles, delays in correspondence, strange inquiries… someone was watching and now he was warning me.

“You’re… what? Threatened?” I asked cautiously.

“Yes,” he said, eyes dark. “But I don’t care. I’ll handle them. You just… focus on the work. Focus on saving him.”

I stared at him, heart pounding. Everything in me screamed to refuse. To protect myself. To stay hidden. But every instinct that had ever made me a doctor, the part of me that couldn’t ignore a life in danger pushed me forward.

“And if I say no?” I asked quietly.

He took a step closer. “Then you let him die and you’ll carry that with you.”

Silence stretched between us. His presence was overwhelming, his dominance undeniable, but beneath it… there was something else. A raw, unflinching need. Not for control. For survival. For life.

“I don’t… I don’t even know your brother,” I whispered.

“You don’t need to,” he said. “You just need to save him. That’s all that matters.”

I exhaled slowly. My hands trembled. “Fine,” I said finally. 

“But you…” I pointed at him. “you don’t tell me what to do. I do this my way. And I need full access to his medical records, his history, everything you have.”

He smiled faintly, a dangerous curve of lips that made my stomach twist. “Agreed. But understand this..time is short. Minutes count. Every second you waste, he suffers. And I don’t have time for hesitation.”

I met his eyes, challenging, defiant, though my voice wavered. “Then hurry up and get me everything. I’m not waiting around for you to figure it out.”

He inclined his head. “Good. I like that in you. Strong. Determined. Not weak.”

I wanted to hate him for that. I really did. But even as my pulse raced and my nerves flared, I couldn’t deny it. Something about him, something sharp, cold, and dangerous pulled at me. And I knew, deep down, this was only the beginning.

“Get me the files. Now,” I said, trying to reclaim control.

He moved toward the door, glancing back. “Don’t forget, Isabel. Lives are on the line. Including my brother’s. Don’t let him down.”

I nodded stiffly, still feeling the heat of his gaze on me. As soon as he left, I exhaled, collapsing into the chair. My heart was racing, my thoughts a jumble. He was infuriating. Impossible. Overbearing. Dangerous.

And I had just agreed to follow him.