Six Years Later, the Man Who Humiliated Me Was Brought Bloody into My Operating Room, and My Father’s Face Suddenly Went Pale

That night, when the entire hospital learned that the wounded patient was the most dangerous man in the city, I was holding his heart with my hands.

“His pressure is still falling, doctor.”

Kate looked at the monitor. The numbers were rapidly decreasing, while the smell of iron and blood mixed together in the operating room.

“Two more units of blood. Quickly.”

“The bullet is near the heart.”

“I know.”

But no one knew that I recognized the face lying pale beneath the mask. Six years earlier, Simon Russo had been a student, with worn-out shoes and only a few coins in his pocket. Now, because of him, armed men stood at the hospital entrance.

He had been my first love.

And the man who had shattered my life in one sentence.

“I am tired of being with you, Irene.”

He told me this when I was still living in his apartment and caring for his sick mother. The next day he left with another woman. I became so ill that I spent several weeks in a clinic. I kept repeating to myself that Simon was dead to me.

Now his heart was stopping in my hands.

“Clamp.”

I removed the bullet, but at that moment the monitor gave a continuous sound.

Simon’s heart stopped.

For two seconds I could not move. Then Kate shouted my name.

“Irene!”

“Charge.”

The first shock was unsuccessful. The second shook his body.

“One more time!”

“Simon, don’t you dare die,” I whispered. “You still have to answer me.”

One spike appeared on the monitor. Then a second. His heart returned.

Several hours after the operation, I learned that my patient was known in the city as the “Black Wolf.” Casinos, ports, security companies—his name appeared everywhere, but no one dared speak about him aloud.

In the evening, an elegant woman met me in front of intensive care. She wore a golden dress and had so many rings on her fingers that they hurt my eyes under the bright light.

“Are you Irene?”

“Yes.”

“Valentina Gallo. Simon’s fiancée.”

My stomach tightened, but I showed nothing on my face.

“Congratulations.”

Valentina smiled coldly.

“We have three children. Therefore I want you to understand that his past has no place in this house anymore.”

“Then go into his room and tell him that.”

Her smile disappeared.

“You have no idea who you are colliding with.”

“You also do not know how many years ago I stopped living in fear.”

That was a lie. I was still afraid.

At eleven at night I left the hospital. Fine rain was extinguishing the lights on the asphalt. I entered the elevator, and the small bronze bell hanging on the wall rang softly when the door closed. I had known that sound since childhood; my father gave it to me when I enrolled in medical university.

The door was almost closed when someone slipped a hand through.

Simon entered.

He was still weak, wearing a black coat over the hospital clothes, with a fresh stitch on his forehead.

“You should be lying in your room,” I told him.

“Six years have passed.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Look at me, Irene.”

I did not want to, but I looked. His eyes were still the same. That was the most dangerous thing.

“Tell me that you forgot me.”

“I forgot you.”

Simon smiled bitterly.

“You still lie badly.”

“And you always lied very well.”

The smile immediately fell away.

The elevator stopped. I walked toward the door, but he gently took my wrist.

“This time I will not let you go.”

“You are six years too late.”

I freed my hand and went into the corridor. I did not look back, although my heart struck again with its old weakness.

The next morning my father called me. His voice was unusually tense.

“Irene, keep away from Simon.”

“Why?”

“Because he is a dangerous person.”

“I already know that. But how do you know him?”

Silence fell on the other side of the line.

“You do not know what you are asking me.”

“Then I will ask you personally this evening.”

He hung up.

At that very moment the door of my office opened. Simon’s head of security stood on the threshold, holding a dark green folder.

“Doctor, Mr. Russo told me to give this to you.”

I looked at the folder. My name was written on it in my father’s handwriting.

The guard reached toward the lock…

The guard put the folder on the desk, but before I opened it, I heard shouting from the corridor.

“Dad!”

Three children rushed in. Simon stood behind them, pale but on his feet.

The little girl looked toward me.

“Are you Irene?”

“Yes.”

“Daddy has your picture hidden.”

Simon lowered his eyes.

“Milena, enough.”

Valentina appeared immediately.

“What a family scene,” she said. “Doctor, you will not remain here much longer.”

“I am still observing the patient.”

“The patient is my fiancé.”

“And his body is my responsibility.”

That evening Simon unexpectedly asked me to go with him to his house. I had an old injury on my hand, and he said that his doctor had found a new way of treating it.

The children met me calmly at home. Their drawings hung on the wall, but on one shelf I saw the corner of my old photograph.

“Why did you keep it?” I asked.

“Because I could not forget you.”

I did not have time to answer. Simon tasted the mushroom soup prepared in the kitchen with two spoons and suddenly clutched his throat. The spoon fell to the floor.

“Call the doctor!”

He went into convulsions. Valentina rushed into the room and immediately pointed at me.

“She gave him poison!”

I looked at Simon’s pupils. This was not an ordinary allergy. I fell to my knees and demanded that medicine be injected into his vein.

But before the doctor came, Simon grabbed my wrist and barely said:

“Your father… still has a second copy…”

Then he slipped a small key into my hand…

Engraved on the key was the number of the old hospital archive. That was when I realized that Simon was not unconscious. He was only pretending that he could see nothing.

“Kate, call an ambulance,” I said. “And do not let anyone leave here.”

Valentina stepped back.

“Have you lost your mind? I am the mistress of this house.”

“No. You are now a witness.”

Simon opened his eyes.

“There was no poison in the soup,” he said quietly. “I only took a little sedative.”

Valentina went pale.

“What are you talking about?”

“I knew they would try to kill me before Irene learned the truth.”

His head of security took the archive key, and at two in the morning we went to the hospital’s old building. There, in the basement, I approached a rusty cabinet. The lock obeyed the key.

Inside lay a small voice recorder, a yellowed folder, and a contract from six years earlier.

Simon switched on the recorder.

I heard my father’s voice.

“You will end your relationship with Irene today. If you do not break up with her, I will destroy her medical career and stop her mother’s treatment.”

Then Simon’s voice sounded. He was young and desperate.

“Please, Mr. Sterling, she is a sick woman. I will find the money.”

“You will not find the money. You can only disappear.”

The third voice belonged to Valentina.

“If you tell Irene that her father threatened you, you will both die. We have already found your brother.”

The recorder fell from my hand. Cold poured into my stomach. Simon stood before me and was no longer trying to maintain the face of a strong man.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“That night your father bought your mother’s doctors. Then my brother was kidnapped. They told me that if I stayed with you, he would make us lose both of you.”

“That is why you told me you were tired of me?”

“Because I wanted you to hate me. Hatred seemed safer than hope.”

“You waited for me alone for six years?”

“No. Every day I tried not to come.”

Valentina suddenly laughed, but the laughter quickly stopped.

“This recording will prove nothing. Her father is protected by the entire city.”

“Not anymore,” Simon said.

The folder contained bank statements, my father’s signatures, and money transfers to Valentina’s account. Everything led toward one scheme: my father separated Simon from me, while Valentina tried for six years to seize his property.

Suddenly my phone rang. My father’s number appeared on the screen.

“Irene,” he said as soon as I answered, “did Simon tell you that I was responsible for your mother’s death?”

My breath caught.

“Mother died of natural causes, didn’t she?”

A long silence fell on the line.

“No,” my father said. “And if you trust Simon, you will be his next victim…”

At that moment heavy footsteps sounded outside the basement. Simon reached for his weapon, the head of security locked the door, and I clutched the recorder.

My father’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“Irene, open the door. It is time for you to learn why your mother died…”