Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Tiffanie didn't say a word. She just glanced at the takeaway boxes scattered on the floor, her tone icy.

"Everett, have you lost your mind?"

Everett was shaking with anger, then let out a bitter laugh.

"Fine, if you won't leave North America, I'll keep bothering you. Let's see if you can handle it."

With that, Everett stormed out, leaving an eerie silence behind. The room reeked of alcohol mixed with the stale smell of takeout, making Tiffanie's stomach churn. She felt a sudden urge to get out, grabbed her jacket, and headed for the door. But her stomach was in knots.

She barely made it to the sidewalk before collapsing. When she woke up, she was in a hospital, surrounded by white.

She tried to speak but had no strength. Her wrists were bandaged, her cheek treated, and her neck showed signs of care.

Sitting up, she still felt a burning pain in her stomach. The door opened, and a dark-haired Australian doctor walked in, gloved hands at the ready.

"Tiffanie."

She didn't respond, the pain in her stomach like needles stabbing.novelbin

"If you keep this up, you could end up with stomach cancer. Eat properly and lay off the booze. This time it's a perforated ulcer. Lucky someone brought you in."

Tiffanie's face turned pale, her fingers clutching the bedsheet as nausea hit her. The doctor placed a trash bin in front of her and sighed at the sight of the scars on her wrists.

"Here's a card for our psychiatric department. You should see them, Tiffanie."

She tried to support herself but ended up dry heaving. She hadn't eaten in days, feeling weak and on the brink of death. But her face remained indifferent as she lay back down and closed her eyes.

Doctor Lewis noticed her reluctance to communicate and simply raised an eyebrow. Sometimes, when someone is set on self-destruction, there's little anyone can do. And from the looks of it, her depression was severe.

That night, Lewis's phone buzzed with messages. His college buddies were planning a dinner, and he shrugged off his white coat, agreeing to join.

"Mason's gonna be there too."

"His startup's been featured on Wall Street, and he's not even twenty-five. The last one to get that spotlight was Max, now the CEO of DreamTech Designs."

"Max was just nineteen when he hit the Wall Street radar. Mason's different, but so are we. His net worth's hitting the billions."

Hearing Mason's name reminded Lewis of a recent interview he had read. He left instructions for his assistant.

"Keep an eye on that patient for me. Have someone from psych come over. Severe depression, suicidal tendencies, multiple injuries, possibly domestic abuse. She needs special attention." "Dr. Lewis, heading out?"

"Yeah, college reunion."

Arriving at the venue, Mason was already there commanding the room yet remaining polite, joining in every toast. What was once a simple reunion had evolved into a networking event. Many were angling for a spot in Mason's unicorn, but he skillfully deflected them.

Back in school, Lewis and Mason had crossed paths often, both part of the basketball team, dreaming big at seventeen. But Mason seemed different now, more reserved, with a powerful presence. Acknowledging each other with a nod, Lewis took a seat beside him.

"Dr. Lewis."

"Dr. Lewis, heard about your recent award. Impressive. The research institute's been courting you, right?"

Lewis responded to the surrounding chatter.

"Yeah, starting at the institute next week."

"You and Mason, from the same basketball team to success in finance and medicine, enviable."

Indeed, many had achieved what most would consider success. But human nature's greed always yearns for higher ground, gradually losing sight of the initial passion.

Noticing Mason getting tipsy, Lewis gestured to the others to stop plying him with drinks. Mason, unfamiliar with most, was left in Lewis's care as the party wound down. Seeing Mason slumped on the couch, eyes closed, Lewis couldn't help but comment.

"Just admitted someone with a perforated stomach this morning. You planning on joining them?"