The Brilliant Second Life of Doctor 'Vicious' Harper

The lights in the operating room were so bright they felt like needles stabbing into Harper Reeves’ eyes.She lay on the cold table, unable to move, her breathing so faint it was a miracle she was still alive. The virus had hollowed her out. Even lifting her eyelids felt like wading through mud.Someone approached. The faint sound of soft-soled shoes stopped right beside her.Harper tried to turn her head, tried to see who it was, but everything was a blur — shapes melting into white.A familiar voice answered her question anyway.“VR-1. Most people die in seven days,” the woman said, almost amused. “But you? Three months. Still breathing. You’re really something, Harper.”Phoebe.Her cousin.Her doctor.And the person who secretly prayed every day for her death.Phoebe adjusted her surgical mask, her eyes curving with a cruelty she didn’t bother to hide. “Honestly, you’ve been a perfect test subject. So I want to see why you refuse to die.”Harper’s stomach twisted when she smelled f

Belvia City — Inside the Grand Ballroom of the Five-Star HotelThousands of guests filled the banquet hall, all waiting for the bride-to-be to make her grand entrance.In a dim corner sat the bride’s parents, looking out of place among the glittering crowd — two small-town nobodies surrounded by the sneers of high society.“Miss, without an invitation, you can’t go in!”Two security guards blocked the entrance, arms crossed.The young woman in front of them lifted her head, her face covered in dirt and bruises, her sharp gaze cutting like a blade.“Tell me,” she said coldly, “does the bride… also need an invitation?”The guards instinctively stepped back, their confidence faltering under her glare.“N–No, ma’am… of course not…”“Harper?!”That voice. She would recognize it even in death.In an instant, her heart clenched, like a storm had erupted inside her chest. Pain surged so violently she had to take a deep breath just to keep her balance.Slowly, she turned around. Her eyes, dark

Butler Lane had no choice but to escort Harper up to the tenth floor of the hotel—to the Young Master Gallagher’s suite.In his eyes, she looked like a furious little wildcat, shouting for the Gallagher family to give her back her innocence!Harper lay stiffly on the huge bed, silently rehearsing her plan for revenge.When the door creaked open, she drew a sharp breath and instinctively shut her eyes, bracing herself for what was about to happen.The memories of her previous life’s torment flashed vividly before her eyes.The man everyone called the Young Master of the Gallagher family—President of the GG Group—was Chase Gallagher, her former fiancé.Rumor had it he was a pervert who only liked virgins and had… performance issues. He preferred to watch rather than participate.That was why Amara had handed this “golden opportunity” to climb the social ladder to Harper, not her sister Phoebe.That night, in her past life, she’d been tortured to the brink of death—all because of him.If

Harper sat opposite the officers, already having rehearsed her story.“Miss Reeves, were you at the scene when Theo was injured?” Detective Wale asked as the female officer began taking notes.Harper nodded and let herself look shaken. “Please tell us what happened.”She recited it like a practiced script. “That day I had a fight with Chase. I stormed off, planning to cancel the engagement. I hid in a place I thought he couldn’t find. Then I ran into Theo near an old factory. He offered to shelter me from the rain, but then—he tried to take advantage of me.”At that, she dabbed a tissue at the corner of her mouth and peeled away a little makeup, revealing a broad bruise and fresh abrasions. The gesture was small but convincing.“He was pulling at my clothes. When I resisted he hit me. While we were struggling, something behind us broke open and I ran.” Her voice trembled; she let tears well up.The two officers exchanged looks. Her account was more detailed — and darker — than either

Harper wasn’t from the emergency department, so her hands trembled slightly under the pressure. But there was no time for hesitation.Life or death hung in the balance.She grabbed a pen from a nearby table—planning to perform an emergency decompression puncture on the spot!The crowd gasped in horror. The wife screamed and threw herself over the patient, blocking Harper’s path.“You—!”Harper had already located the correct point—second intercostal space, midclavicular line—but was stopped cold.A few men from the crowd rushed forward, restraining her.“Get this lunatic out of here!”“I’m a doctor! I’m saving him!” she shouted, struggling against their grip.“Let go!”A cold, commanding voice rang out.In the blink of an eye, the men holding Harper were thrown backward as if swept away by a powerful gust.What the—did a martial artist just show up?Harper spun around and saw a man dressed in black, tall and sharp-featured, his every movement radiating strength and precision.“Go—save