Da-Ha 5

Hazel could barely contain the violent pounding of her heart. Her chest felt so tight it was as though the organ were trying to break free from her ribcage.

Her entire body trembled. Cold sweat gathered across her forehead, and the fine hairs along her arms and neck stood on end.

A wave of dizziness struck her without warning.

Damian Montoya was a nightmare brought to life.

For the past three years, Hazel had done everything she could to run from him and avoid crossing paths with him again. She never wanted to see that man again, and she certainly didn't want him to discover that she had once given birth to his child.

Hazel wasn't afraid that Damian would question whether Adrian was his son.

She was afraid of what he might do once he found out.

What if he took Adrian away from her? What if he decided to get rid of her without even asking who the child's father was?

Just imagining it made Hazel want to cry.

It made her wish she could simply disappear from the face of the earth.

It took several minutes before Hazel finally managed to steady herself.

She walked toward the door, drew in a deep breath, and pulled it open quickly. Half-running, she hurried toward the nurses' station to ask for a mask.

“What's wrong, Miss Donovan? Are you feeling ill? You look very pale,” a nurse asked worriedly.

Hazel managed a faint smile despite her nervousness and nodded.

“I think I’m coming down with the flu. I don't want to spread it to anyone else.”

With that excuse, Hazel quickly put on the mask.

Just as she finished securing the ties behind her head, the door to Dr. Sterling’s office opened.

And there he was.

Her nightmare.

Damian Montoya.

He still looked every bit as handsome and commanding as she remembered him three years ago.

Hazel’s heart immediately began pounding again, leaving her palms slick with cold sweat.

I have to leave.

She knew that suddenly running away now would only arouse suspicion.

Holding her breath, Hazel forced her legs to move at a normal pace.

She tried desperately to avoid making eye contact.

But the man’s presence was far too powerful to ignore.

Before she could stop herself, Hazel stole a quick glance at him, her eyes landing on those greenish irises she had once adored more than anything in the world.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Hazel quickly turned her face away.

She quickened her pace and immediately turned at the next intersection, disappearing from Damian’s sight.

At least, that was what Hazel hoped.

But Damian had noticed her.

He froze.

The moment his eyes met those unmistakable golden irises, his brows drew together.

Hazel?

Damian stopped and turned around, searching for the hospital cleaner who had just walked past them.

He was certain it had been Hazel.

Even though the woman’s brown hair was hidden beneath her work cap and half of her face was concealed by a mask, Damian would recognize those eyes anywhere.

He hurried after her, but the corridor behind him was completely empty.

There was no one there.

Was I imagining it?

The thought crossed his mind again.

No. I know I wasn't dreaming.

“Dr. Sterling, did you see the cleaner who just walked past us?”

Dr. Sterling—a middle-aged man whom Damian’s grandmother had entrusted with overseeing the medical side of the project—looked at him with a puzzled frown.

“The cleaner?”

“Yes. The one wearing a mask. She just passed us.”

Dr. Sterling shook his head.

“I don't memorize every member of the hospital staff, Mr. Montoya. Why? Do you know her? Would you like me to find her for you?”

Damian fell silent for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“No. I must have been mistaken.”

He continued down the corridor, trying to calm the turmoil in his chest and convince himself that what he had seen had merely been an illusion.

This is all Grandma’s fault. If she hadn't brought that woman up, I wouldn't be imagining things like this.

Yet while his mind stubbornly rejected the possibility, his heart told him otherwise.

As soon as he returned to the office, Damian summoned his personal assistant, Isaac Brown.

“Find that woman,” Damian ordered coldly, without bothering to give him a name.

“Which woman, sir?”

“That traitorous woman.”

Damian’s expression hardened.

“Find her. Now. I want to know where she is and what her life has been like for the past three years.”