The Warning She Rejected

Arla-Rosa stood by the hospital gates, her arms folded loosely over her white coat, her graduation medal glinting against the fabric. She should have been brimming with joy. The youngest graduate in the history of the Royal Medical University, offers flooding in from top hospitals across nations. Yet, here she was, caught in the uncertainty of a mysterious invitation.

The message had come that morning. Hand-delivered. Sealed with the crest of the Fleming family. "Miss Arla-Rosa Hernandez, You are cordially invited to a private lunch with His Grace, Duke Cedric Fleming of Country D. Location: The Marquess Lounge, Grand Sterling Hotel. Noon.

Sincerely,

Alastair Graham, Secretary to His Grace."

She'd read it three times, trying to make sense of it. Why would the Duke, one of the most powerful and enigmatic figures in Country D, seek her out personally? Her first instinct had been to decline. Seth wouldn't like this. But curiosity tugged harder. So now, standing before the opulent Grand Sterling Hotel, Arla-Rosa adjusted her modest blouse and took a deep breath before heading inside.

The Marquess Lounge was bathed in warm gold and emerald tones. Velvet drapes lined the windows, and crystal chandeliers sparkled like suspended stars. Arla-Rosa spotted Cedric instantly, sharp in a steel-gray suit, posture regal, his eyes scanning her like a hawk. But what struck him was how young the duke looked. He was just a few years older than her. Twenty-five years old, and he wielded so much power!

"Miss Hernandez," he rose, his tone formal but not cold, extending a hand. "Thank you for accepting my invitation." "Your Grace," she replied, shaking it gently. "I was curious, to be honest. I didn’t think someone like you would be interested in a newly graduated doctor."

He gestured for her to sit. "I value brilliance. And I make it my business to know when someone extraordinary emerges." She flushed faintly. "I’m just doing my best." "You’ve done more than that. Your thesis on neuro-lunar cell regeneration caught the attention of our medical boards. Your professors speak of you with awe."

Their lunch arrived, seared scallops, rosemary chicken, wild rice. Cedric ate sparingly, but his eyes rarely left her. "Your grades, your progress under Master Ye, your work ethic... You’re the kind of mind we need at St. Astrid’s," he said at last. "That’s why I’m offering you an exclusive post. A full research lab. Access to international medical grants. And autonomy to pursue any field you desire."

Her fork paused halfway. "That's... generous. But I'm afraid I must decline." His brows lifted, almost imperceptibly. "May I ask why?" "Because," she said simply, "I’ve already made a commitment. I’ll be working with my fiance, Seth Robinson, to expand his company’s health division."

Cedric leaned back. "You're giving up global prestige for... a man’s company?" Arla-Rosa’s lips curved. "It’s not just a company. It's our dream. I helped shape it, supported it." His fingers drummed once on the table. "I expected reluctance," he murmured. "Not blind devotion." She straightened. "Excuse me?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a brown envelope. Neatly sealed. "I didn’t want to resort to this," Cedric said, his voice dropping, "but if you won’t listen to reason, perhaps you’ll listen to truth." He pushed the envelope across the table. "What is this?"

"Documentation. Of Seth Robinson’s affair with a woman named Aretha. Records, photos, and messages." A cold wind seemed to blow through her chest. With trembling fingers, Arla-Rosa opened the envelope. There were timestamped hotel visits. Screenshots of conversations. Images of Seth entering Aretha’s residence late at night. Bank transfers labeled as ‘private gifts’. It felt like the walls of the lounge closed in.

She looked up, eyes shining. "These... This isn’t real." "It is," Cedric said calmly. "You can verify it all." "You’re trying to sabotage my engagement! You barely know me!" "I may not know you well," he replied, voice low, "but I know manipulation when I see it. I investigated Seth not to hurt you, but because I saw how devoted you were. And how that devotion was being exploited."

Arla-Rosa’s hand trembled as she picked up her phone. Cedric watched in disbelief as she dialed. "Seth? Yes, I’m with someone named Duke Fleming. He’s showing me some fake documents about you and Aretha. Just wanted you to know." She hung up and fixed Cedric with a cold stare. "I don’t know what your game is, but I’m not some pawn to be moved."

A few minutes later, Seth arrived, disheveled and breathless. He wrapped an arm protectively around Arla-Rosa. "Your Grace," he said coolly, "I appreciate your concern, but we’re just fine." Cedric stood, towering over them. "You’re a liar. And she’s too blind to see it." "I trust him," Arla-Rosa whispered.

Cedric’s composure cracked. His voice became a growl. "You’ll regret this. One day, you’ll wish you listened." He turned and strode out of the lounge, his footsteps echoing. Arla-Rosa sagged into Seth’s chest, clutching him tightly. But Cedric wasn’t done. Not even close. Outside, he lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, staring at the city skyline. "If she won’t save herself," he murmured, eyes narrowing, "then I will."