The Doctor, the Vampire, and the Emergency Folder

Elaina Rivers didn't mean to break into Lucien Blackthorn's building.

Okay—"break in" was dramatic. But security had asked if she was lost. Three times.

And she had ducked behind a marble pillar when she spotted Lucien's assistant walking by.

But to be fair, it wasn't stalking if your heart was involved.

Elaina Rivers was a brilliant trauma doctor. A published researcher. An invited speaker at two global pediatric conferences. Her apartment was clean, her cacti alive, and her obsession very, very real.

"Dr. Rivers," she muttered to her reflection in the polished elevator door, gripping the folder labeled "Emergency Pediatric Grant Proposal." "Not a fangirl. Not a lunatic. Just a woman with a plan."

But her heart? It was screaming like a fire alarm.

Because today was the day.

The day she pitched her proposal to Lucien Blackthorn—enigmatic billionaire, recluse philanthropist, rumored bloodsucker.

Why now?

Because last month, at a medical gala, she had tripped over her own feet and collided chest-first into his granite-like torso. He caught her with one hand and then walked away like he hadn't just altered the gravitational pull of her universe.

She hadn't forgotten it. Her frontal lobe refused to forget it.

Nor did it help that she'd woken up the next morning with her laptop on her chest and thirty-six open tabs about him.

She might have memorized his company address at 2:13 a.m. She might have scrolled through a Reddit thread titled: "Lucien Blackthorn—Corporate Vampire or Just Emotionally Deceased?"

Still undecided.

---

Meanwhile, on the 59th floor of Blackthorn Industries…

Lucien hated mornings. Especially ones that began with Kade bursting in like the apocalypse and iced coffee were equally urgent.

"You have twelve meetings," Kade said, bouncing like a Labrador in business casual.

"Cancel eleven," Lucien muttered without looking up.

"Can't. One's with her."

Lucien's pen paused. "Her?"

Kade grinned. "Doctor Who tripped on you at the gala. She's got a proposal. For pediatric trauma. And maybe also your soul."

Lucien raised one brow. "I didn't approve that."

"She called. Or her assistant did. Said it was urgent. She used the words life-saving and cute children. Your PR team would cry if you turned it down."

Lucien leaned back, exhaling slowly. "This is why I need a moat."

"Come on," Kade teased. "She might actually make you feel something."

Lucien's glare was cold steel. "I'll give her fifteen minutes."

"Twenty," Kade said cheerfully. "She brought a folder."

---

Elaina was ushered into a waiting room that looked more like a throne room with Wi-Fi. She adjusted her cream blouse for the fifth time and stared at the minimalist art on the walls like it might give her confidence.

"You can do this," she whispered.

The receptionist gave her a side glance.

"I respect air conditioning," Elaina blurted.

Great. Just what she needed—her anxiety performing stand-up comedy.

The elevator doors opened again.

"Dr. Rivers," the assistant said.

Elaina stood so fast her folder slapped the floor. She bent to pick it up, only to realize—she was wearing two different earrings.

Too late now.

---

Lucien Blackthorn looked up the moment she walked in.

He looked the same—suit sharp enough to wound, expression carved from stone, cheekbones that probably filed restraining orders against human touch.

"Good morning, Mr. Blackthorn. I—"

"I remember you," he said. "You fell on me."

So much for dignity.

"Yes. And now I'd like to ask for funding."

"Direct," he said. "I prefer that."

She handed him the folder. He didn't open it.

"Why Blackthorn Industries?" he asked flatly. "Why me?"

A reasonable question. Also, rude.

She could lie. Say she was referred, or that his foundation aligned with her mission. But that wasn't the truth.

"Because I saw you," she said, eyes steady. "And something about you said… this man changes things. I need that. The children I work with need that."

Lucien stared at her like he was trying to see her entire blood type through her skull.

"Emotional appeals don't work on me."

"They're not appeals," she said gently. "They're facts."

He still didn't blink. But Kade—who'd entered silently—was beaming like this was the most romantic horror show he'd ever seen.

"Proceed," Lucien said at last.

Elaina launched into her pitch. She talked about trauma wards, mobile outreach, neonatal transport units. She spoke with practiced passion—but also something more.

Desperation. Not for herself, but for the kids she'd held after accidents, the ones who flinched at loud noises, the ones whose lives could be rewritten with a few more ambulances and oxygen tanks.

Lucien remained unreadable.

"So," she finished, "even partial funding would help us reach—"

A knock.

Kade stepped in, unusually pale. "Sir, there's smoke in the logistics wing. Looks electrical."

Lucien stood instantly.

"You'll excuse me."

Elaina scrambled to her feet. "Of course—I didn't mean to interrupt—"

Lucien paused at the door.

"You have five minutes with the board next week."

Then he disappeared.

Elaina stood frozen, heart stuttering.

Did that count as a yes?

---

Outside in the hallway:

"She's not what I expected," Lucien muttered.

"She's exactly what you needed," Kade replied.

Lucien gave him a side-eye. "Don't get involved."

"I already am," Kade said. "Also—she called you emotionally constipated. With her eyes."

Lucien's lips twitched.

Just a little.

---

That night, Elaina flopped onto her couch, folder still in hand.

"I got a meeting with the board," she whispered to Dr. Prickles, her loyal cactus.

No response. But he looked proud.

Elaina stared at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe.

"He gave me a meeting," she repeated. "He remembered me. Also, I think I called him a stone gargoyle with my eyebrows."

Still worth it.

But she knew this was just step one.

Step two? Get his funding.

Step three?

Make him fall so hard, even his board of emotionally-detached demons couldn't save him.

Elaina Rivers wasn't just pitching a proposal anymore.

She was going to make Lucien Blackthorn feel something.

Even if it killed her.

(Or him.)