Chapter Eleven: Heat Under Pressure

Iris barely slept that night.

Every time she closed her eyes, the anonymous message flashed behind her lids like a warning carved into stone.

If you don’t leave him alone, the next complaint won’t be a lie.

She lay on her side, phone clutched in her hand, heart hammering too fast, too loud. The room felt smaller than usual, the shadows heavier. She had faced pressure before—exams, loss, grief—but this was different. This was calculated. Personal.

By morning, she made a decision.

She would not be weak.

The hospital greeted her with its usual cold efficiency, but today, Iris felt like prey walking into a carefully laid trap. Eyes followed her. Conversations paused. A nurse bumped into her deliberately, muttering a sharp apology that didn’t sound sorry at all.

She kept her head down.

Focus. Survive. Prove them wrong.

Her reassignment placed her in a different cardiology unit—still her field, but far from Nathaniel’s wing. She told herself it was for the best. Distance would cool the fire. Distance would protect them both.

She was wrong.

She felt him before she saw him.

That familiar tension curled low in her stomach when she stepped into the diagnostics corridor and nearly collided with a broad chest. Strong hands caught her shoulders instinctively.

“Iris.”

His voice. Low. Tight. Controlled—but barely.

She looked up, breath catching.

Nathaniel’s eyes searched her face, scanning for damage, fear, something broken. The moment stretched too long. Too intimate.

He dropped his hands abruptly.

“We shouldn’t—” he began.

“I know,” she said quickly. “I won’t cause trouble.”

That wasn’t what he meant.

“That message,” he said quietly. “Did you get one?”

Her heart stuttered. “You know?”

His jaw clenched. “Answer me.”

“Yes.”

Silence fell between them, heavy and dangerous.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “You should have told me.”

“I didn’t want to make things worse.”

His eyes darkened. “This is worse.”

A nurse passed by, glancing at them curiously. Nathaniel straightened instantly, stepping back, rebuilding the wall between them piece by piece.

“Meet me in the old records room at lunch,” he said without looking at her. “Five minutes. Not a second more.”

Then he walked away.

Iris stood frozen, pulse racing.

The records room was dusty, forgotten, tucked away from the main hospital flow. When Iris slipped inside later that afternoon, her nerves buzzed like exposed wires.

Nathaniel was already there.

The door closed softly behind her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“You’re not safe,” he said finally. “Someone is escalating.”

“I can handle it,” she replied, though her voice trembled.

He turned sharply. “No. You shouldn’t have to.”

The way he looked at her then—raw, conflicted, restrained—made her chest ache.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked softly.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “That’s the problem.”

The silence pressed in, thick with everything unsaid. Iris could hear her own breathing, feel the heat radiating from him despite the space between them.

“I don’t want to be the reason you lose everything,” she whispered.

Nathaniel stepped closer. Too close.

“You’re not the reason,” he said. “You’re the consequence.”

Her breath hitched.

His hand lifted, stopping just short of touching her cheek. He froze, fingers hovering, control visibly fraying.

“I think about you when I shouldn’t,” he admitted quietly. “I notice things I have no right to notice. And it terrifies me.”

Iris swallowed hard. “Me too.”

The air cracked.

For a heartbeat, it felt like he might kiss her. Like the rules, the danger, the world might dissolve.

Then footsteps echoed outside.

Nathaniel stepped back instantly, chest rising and falling. “We can’t do this. Not like this.”

“I know,” she said, even though it hurt.

“Stay alert,” he added. “And don’t walk alone after shifts.”

She nodded.

That evening, Iris left the hospital later than planned. The sky had darkened, the parking structure eerily quiet. Her phone buzzed as she reached her car.

Another message.

You were warned.

Her breath caught.

She heard footsteps.

Slow. Deliberate.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she turned