The Man I Hated Most

Emilia

I didn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw two faces.

My father’s.

And Leo Vance’s.

One had died believing the world would eventually discover the truth.

The other had spent three years of high school making sure I wanted to disappear.

Now fate expected me to help him.

I almost called Grace Bennett before sunrise to quit.

Almost.

But every time my finger hovered over her number, another notification flashed across my phone.

Medical Board Requests Additional Evidence.

Clinic Terminates Employment Contract.

Sponsor Withdraws from Charity Program Featuring Dr. Emilia Brooks.

By seven o’clock that morning, I had my answer.

I couldn’t afford pride.

Not anymore.

The black SUV waiting outside my apartment looked more like it belonged to a diplomat than a patient.

A tall man in a tailored black suit stepped out and opened the rear door.

“Dr. Brooks?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Arthur Mills.”

His voice was deep and professional.

“I’ll be driving you to the Vance Estate.”

He reached for my suitcase.

“I can carry it.”

“I know.”

He lifted it anyway.

Inside the SUV, silence settled between us as the city disappeared behind tinted windows.

Arthur never attempted small talk.

He simply drove.

After nearly an hour, the busy streets gave way to towering pine trees.

Iron gates rose ahead.

Two armed security officers stood beside them.

Arthur lowered his window.

One of the guards immediately recognized the vehicle and nodded.

The gates slowly opened.

I frowned.

“Does every visitor go through this?”

Arthur’s eyes stayed on the road.

“Not every visitor.”

The answer did nothing to calm my nerves.

The driveway stretched endlessly through manicured gardens and sparkling fountains before the mansion finally came into view.

It wasn’t a house.

It was an estate.

Three stories of glass, stone, and towering pillars overlooked a private lake that shimmered beneath the morning sun.

I stared through the window.

People actually lived here?

The SUV stopped beneath the entrance canopy.

Before I could reach for my bag, another employee opened my door.

“Welcome to the Vance Estate, Dr. Brooks.”

Inside, the mansion felt less like a home and more like a luxury hotel.

Polished marble floors reflected crystal chandeliers.

A grand staircase curved toward the second floor.

Paintings lined the walls, each looking expensive enough to buy my apartment building.

A woman in her late fifties approached with a warm smile.

“You must be Emilia.”

I smiled politely.

“And you are?”

“Eleanor.”

She extended her hand.

“I’ve looked after this family for almost thirty years.”

Her handshake was gentle.

“There must be a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

“You look terrified.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

She laughed softly.

“Anyone walking into this house for the first time looks exactly the same.”

Some of the tension in my shoulders eased.

For the first time since yesterday, someone had spoken to me like a person instead of a headline.

“I’ve prepared your room,” Eleanor said.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll like the east wing.”

I blinked.

“There’s… more than one wing?”

She chuckled.

“Three.”

Of course there were.

Rich people had wings.

After unpacking, I stood by the bedroom window overlooking the lake.

It was beautiful.

Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

Almost enough to make me forget why I was here.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

Grace Bennett entered without waiting.

“How was the journey?”

“Quiet.”

“I hope you’re settling in.”

“I’ll survive.”

She nodded.

“The rehabilitation gym has been prepared.”

“So I finally get to meet my patient?”

“Shortly.”

She handed me a thick medical file.

“I thought you’d want to review this first.”

The moment Grace left, I sat on the bed and opened it.

Patient Name: Leo Alexander Vance.

Age: Twenty nine.

Occupation: Professional Hockey Captain.

Diagnosis…

I frowned.

That couldn’t be right.

There was almost nothing.

A few MRI reports.

General observations.

Pain management notes.

No surgical details.

No rehabilitation timeline.

No specialist recommendations.

It was one of the most incomplete medical files I’d ever seen.

“Where are the rest?” I murmured.

A soft knock sounded at my open door.

Arthur stood there.

“Mr. Vance is ready.”

The private rehabilitation center occupied an entire section of the mansion.

State of the art equipment filled the room.

Hydrotherapy pool.

Resistance machines.

Cryotherapy chamber.

Everything a professional athlete could ever need.

Except…

It was empty.

Arthur gestured toward another door.

“He’s inside.”

My pulse quickened.

I hadn’t seen Leo in over eleven years.

The last memory I had of him was burned into my mind.

Rain pouring over the school courtyard.

My books scattered across the ground.

Laughter echoing around me.

Someone calling me a charity case.

And Leo…

Standing there.

Laughing.

Maybe he hadn’t started it.

Maybe he’d only watched.

Maybe he’d only smiled.

But he’d done nothing to stop it.

To a sixteen year old girl…

That felt exactly the same.

Arthur opened the door.

“There you are,” a familiar masculine voice said lazily.

“I was beginning to think you’d sent another therapist.”

I stepped inside.

The room fell silent.

A tall man stood beside the training bench, balancing carefully on one leg while adjusting the brace around his knee.

Even injured, he carried himself with effortless confidence.

Dark hair.

Broad shoulders.

Piercing blue eyes.

He looked older.

Sharper.

But I would have recognized him anywhere.

His eyes met mine.

For a second…

Nothing happened.

Then confusion flickered across his face.

His brows slowly drew together.

He took one step forward.

“…Emilia?”

I swallowed.

“Hello, Leo.”

The color drained from his face.

“No.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“No way.”

Recognition settled between us like a storm cloud.

He stared at me.

I stared back.

Eleven years disappeared.

He remembered.

Every bit of composure I’d practiced on the drive over threatened to crack.

But I refused to let him see it.

“I’m Dr. Emilia Brooks,” I said evenly.

“I’ll be supervising your rehabilitation.”

He let out a humorless laugh.

“Absolutely not.”

Before I could answer, he turned toward Grace, who had quietly entered behind me.

“Tell me this is some kind of joke.”

“It isn’t.”

“I asked for the best physiotherapist.”

“You got her.”

“I asked for someone I could trust.”

Grace remained calm.

“You can.”

Leo pointed straight at me.

“Find someone else.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“I don’t care how much it costs.”

“It isn’t about money.”

His jaw tightened.

“I won’t work with her.”

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Part of me wanted to walk away.

To tell Grace she could keep the job.

To tell Leo he wasn’t worth saving.

But another part, the daughter of Daniel Brooks refused to run.

I met Leo’s furious stare.

“You don’t have to like me,” I said quietly.

“You only have to decide whether getting back on the ice matters more than holding onto the past.”

The room went still.

Leo’s expression hardened.

For a moment, I thought he might throw me out himself.

Instead, he looked at Grace one last time.

“If she stays…”

His voice turned icy.

“…this is going to be a disaster.”