CHAPTER TWO: Break The Body, Not The Man.

Harrison Cole sat in the backseat of his black SUV, one arm resting against the leather, the other holding his phone. His expression was unreadable. He was on the phone with Ethan, his assistant, when his driver first touched the brakes.

“I don't need another explanation, Ethan. I need results.”

“You'll have them.”

“Make sure I don't regret hiring you.”

Harrison ended the call and glanced through the tinted window. Rainwater glistened on the Manhattan streets, reflecting the headlights of passing cars.

“Take Park Avenue,” he said without looking up.

“Yes, sir.”

The driver slowed as they approached the intersection.

“Sir, there's a problem.”

“What problem?”

The driver pressed the brake pedal again, but the SUV wasn't slowing down.

“Sir, the brakes...”

The impact came before he could finish.

Metal crumpled on impact. The force threw Harrison forward, his shoulder slamming against the seat in front of him. Glass shattered, scattering across the interior as the vehicle spun out of control, its tires screeching against the wet pavement.

For a moment, Harrison heard nothing but a ringing in his ears. Then came the sharp pain in his ribs. His head throbbed, blood trickled down from his temple and his breathing became difficult.

“Sir! Sir, can you hear me?”

Harrison heard his driver's voice but couldn't bring himself to answer. He tried to sit up, only for a sharp pain to force him back against the seat. His vision blurred as he struggled to understand what had happened.

Hands reached in from outside. Voices overlapped.

“Don't move!”

“Call an ambulance!”

“Is he breathing?”

Someone touched his shoulder.

Harrison's hand shot up, gripping the person's wrist.

“Don't.”

The word came out low but controlled. The person immediately withdrew.

Sirens soon filled the air. Red and blue lights flashed across the shattered glass as emergency responders arrived. Amid the hurried movements and overlapping voices, Harrison struggled to remain conscious.

Then the ambulance doors closed.

****

The ambulance doors swung open as it arrived at Reddington Medical Center.

“Male patient, late thirties. Motor vehicle accident,” a paramedic announced as they rushed Harrison through the emergency entrance. “He was conscious at the scene but disoriented. Suspected concussion, possible rib fractures, and a laceration to the forehead.”

Doctors and nurses moved quickly around the stretcher, assessing his condition, checking his vital signs, and attaching monitors.

Harrison was unconscious now, his dark hair damp with rain and blood, his expensive shirt torn across the chest.

“Blood pressure?”

“One-thirty over ninety.”

“Pulse?”

“One-twenty.”

“Establish another IV line. Draw blood samples and prepare him for a CT scan.”

The team continued the trauma assessment while Harrison was stabilised for imaging. The scans revealed no intracranial bleeding or major internal haemorrhage. However, he had sustained fractured ribs, extensive bruising, blood loss, and a concussion that required close observation.

After his condition had been stabilised and the necessary assessments completed, the doctors arranged for his transfer to a private ward for continued monitoring.

By midnight, the hospital staff had begun to learn exactly who their new patient was.

****

Harrison regained consciousness shortly after one in the morning.

A monitor beeped beside his bed. His head throbbed, and every breath brought discomfort to his chest. When he tried to move, the pain became sharper.

A nurse standing beside him noticed his open eyes.

“Mr. Cole, you're awake.”

He frowned. “Where am I?”

“Reddington Medical Center. You were involved in a car accident.”

He glanced around the room before noticing the oxygen cannula beneath his nose.

“Get this thing off me.”

He reached for the tubing, but the nurse gently stopped him.

“Your oxygen levels are still low, sir. You need it for now.”

His eyes narrowed. “I said remove it.”

“I understand, sir, but I need to speak with the doctor before making any changes.”

“I didn't ask you to speak to anyone.”

“I'm trying to make sure you're safe, Mr. Cole.”

He stared at her, clearly displeased.

The nurse explained why the oxygen was necessary and offered to call the doctor to discuss his concerns. Harrison continued to object, but she maintained the prescribed oxygen therapy and informed the doctor about his refusal.

The doctor arrived shortly afterward, reassessed him, and ordered continued monitoring.

Harrison was far from pleased.

Throughout the night, he complained about his medication, the room temperature, the lights, and almost everything else around him. He demanded a different pillow and insisted that someone call his assistant. When the pain persisted, he questioned the medication he had been given.

Shortly after four, he attempted to get out of bed.

The nurse moved towards him immediately.

“Mr. Cole, you shouldn't be standing without assistance.”

“I don't need permission.”

“You have fractured ribs and a concussion. You could make your injuries worse.”

“I've stood up with worse injuries.”

“Then you should know better than to risk another fall sir.''

His expression hardened.

“Call your supervisor.”

“I'm following the doctor's orders, Mr. Cole.”

“I need someone else attending to me.”

The nurse hesitated. She knew his reputation and had no desire to provoke him, but she also couldn't ignore the risks his condition presented.

“I'm sorry, sir, but I'll need to inform the doctor about your concerns.”

“Get out. And don't come back.”

She left to contact the nurse in charge.

Alone again, Harrison stared at the ceiling, his thoughts returning to the accident.

His brakes had never failed before. He ensured his vehicles were regularly maintained, and he couldn't understand how something like that could have happened without warning.

Then there was his driver.

Harrison had no idea how badly he had been injured or whether he would recover.

The thought unsettled him, though he pushed it aside as another wave of pain spread through his chest.

****

By five in the morning, a bodyguard had called for another nurse after Harrison complained of worsening pain.

His blood pressure had risen, and his heart rate remained elevated. The nurses reassessed him, checked his vital signs, administered prescribed medication, adjusted his oxygen as necessary, and monitored his neurological status. They documented their findings and reported concerning changes to the medical team.

Yet Harrison continued to question their decisions and demand immediate attention.

One of the nurses eventually stepped outside the room and exhaled in frustration.

“I've never had a patient like him,” she whispered.

Her colleague sighed. “He's been like this all night.”

“I don't know how much longer I can do this.”

“Let's speak to the head nurse.”

They walked to the head nurse's office, where two other nurses were already waiting.

Their expressions said enough.

Nobody wanted the assignment. Harrison's condition was manageable with appropriate care, but his constant objections and demands had made the night exhausting. The nurses were concerned about the difficulty of providing care when he challenged instructions and refused to cooperate.

The head nurse listened to their complaints before looking through the staffing list.

“I need someone who can handle this assignment without allowing his attitude to interfere with patient care.”

She studied the names on the list, searching for a suitable nurse.

“There has to be someone.”

Then her eyes stopped at the last name.

A small smile appeared on her face.