Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 5

Chapter one -A plausible accident. She despised the smell of aspirin, the jaded white walls, the blinding fluorescent bulbs which made her barely get any sleep. She despised the nagging wives who clearly do not respect her position, hated the patients who disregarded her and asked for a doctor instead whilst checking their vitals. She hated it all. Anna, short for Annalise, took a deep breath as she stood at the corner of St John’s hospital where she was taking the night shift. She’d had a bad night , and her risen morning wasn’t getting any better, all thanks to the new doctor who had yelled at her for poking a patient just to get an IV line. She hated the man but she hated her job even more. She popped out a cigar from her pocket, snagging her work bag onto her shoulders more properly as she prepared to leave, lighting a quick smoke. She was bound to get fired eventually if she got caught, but who was she kidding? The others did worse just to keep themselves sane in su

Chapter Three—An unfortunate encounter. “Who are you?” He asked. He didn’t master the art of a perfect poker face for nothing. It was great in situations such as this, when he had to lie through his teeth to get rid of someone. At the moment, a fiery pair of green eyes he needed to get rid of. “Huh?!!” Annalise couldn’t help but laugh, it contained her bitterness and tears, “You don’t know who I am?!” Still poker faced, he remained mute. She couldn’t believe this, reaching into her pockets as she snapped out her phone. She rambled under her breath as she scrolled, then she turned the screen around, “This!” She yelled, showing the picture of her damaged car, then scrolling to another picture of his SUV, “This. Remember me now you bastard?!” “Mr Ashford I deeply apologize,” his secretary ran in with pleading eyes, “I tried to— “It’s alright.” He dismissed her with the wave of a hand. She walked away with her head sunken low, praying to the god

Chapter five—An unwavering proposal. Bacon. She smelled bacon. She also smelled coffee. Where in the world was she??? She’d anticipated the damp smell of mold and blood, like she’d seen in those thriller movies of hers during her breaks. Whatever whiffed it’s way into her nose was pleasant, too pleasant for one who has been kidnapped. “I don’t have anything.” She muffled under her cover, “I’m poor. I’m reeking of debt. There’s nothing you can get out of me. My mother is sick and I’m sure I have a damaged lung from all my smoking…..I don’t even have a functioning womb!” “I’m pretty sure your health records are anything less than imperfect, Mrs Heathrow.” She heard from outside the fabric. The voice. That invigorating sound of arrogance and authority, the natural sneer and disdain. She knew who that voice belonged to….she despised it. The bag was lifted from her head, a stray thread snagged onto her earrings which made her wince. Stephan glar