All Chapters of My Boyfriend’s Dad Is My Gynecologist : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

  Beth The elevator ride down was quiet. Too quiet. Because my brain was screaming. Love at first sight?He said love at first sight. And he didn’t say it like a slip. He said it like a fact. Like he’d been holding it in for months. Like he meant it. I shifted beside him, heart pounding, and looked up. “Love at first sight?” 

  Beth Stacy looked down at me as we stepped outside. “So… do you feel comfortable with Levi, or do we need to interview the next guy?” I glanced toward the car where Levi waited, arms crossed, casual but alert. “I think I like him so far,” I said honestly. “But, if I’m being real, I won’t really know until I’ve spent a little time around him. It’s not something I can rush.” Stacy nodded once, that steady, assessing expression on his face. “Fair enough.” We reached the curb and Levi pushed off the ca

  Beth Rachel knocked once before bursting into my office, two paper bags in her arms and a grin like she’d just won a game show. “Lunch delivery for the overworked goddess,” she sang. I looked up from my screen, blinking out of the spreadsheet coma I’d been in for the last four hours. “Oh my God. You brought food? Actual food? I was about to eat a cough drop and pretend it was a protein bar.” “I had a feeling.” She kicked the door shut behind her and dropped into the guest chair. “You’ve been dodging me for two weeks.

 Stacy The call came in just after six. I was halfway through organizing a patient’s test results when Levi’s name flashed across my phone. The minute I saw his name, I knew something was wrong. He never called me during work hours—he texted. Sent check-ins. Confirmations. Quiet updates. Not calls. I answered instantly. “Talk.” “She’s gone.” The words hit me like a punch to the ribs. “What do you mean&mda

StacyThe market had barely opened when I started gutting my portfolio.Blue chips. Index funds. Long-term dividends. All of it—sold.Not because I couldn’t afford the price tag.Because I didn’t have time to wait for polite transfers and slow-moving banks.The bastard gave me forty-eight hours.And if I wanted Beth breathing at the end of it, I had to move faster than the system was built to allow.I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop, two phones, and a black leather binder I hadn’t opened in years—the emergency playbook. Asset breakdowns, contact lists, contingency codes for vault access and off-site safes. I’d built this plan for things like nuclear meltdowns, not hostage situations. But at this point, what was the difference?Click.Another trade executed.Another chunk of safety turned to usable capital.The numbers on the screen weren’t the problem—I had enough. More than enough. Between the properties, the trust fund my parents left me, and the practice itself, I could buy