My Ex's Dad; My Baby Daddy I

ISABELLA'S POV

"No. No. This is not happening."

I blinked rapidly, trying to process the scene in front of me.

Sebastian. My boyfriend.

Vanessa. My best friend.

Together. Half-dressed. In the goddamn hospital storage room.

"You've got to be kidding me." My voice came out shaky, but it carried enough fury to make them freeze.

Sebastian barely glanced at me as he buttoned his shirt. "Isabella, don't make a scene."

I laughed. A bitter, humorless laugh. "A scene? You're fucking my best friend, and I'm the one making a scene?"

Vanessa had the audacity to step forward, fixing her skirt like nothing happened. "Isa, listen-"

"Shut up," I snapped. "Don't you dare say my name like we're still friends."

She flinched. Good.

Sebastian sighed, rubbing his forehead like I was some annoying problem. "Look, it's not like you didn't see this coming-"

I stepped forward and slapped him so hard his head snapped to the side.

The room went silent.

Sebastian clenched his jaw, his expression darkening. "You're overreacting."

I wanted to laugh again. Overreacting? I had given this man everything. My love, my time-hell, I had stayed up for days helping him study for his medical exams. And now? He was treating me like I was the problem?

I turned to Vanessa. "And you. You sat there and comforted me every time I thought he was acting weird. You told me I was overthinking. You were screwing him the whole time, weren't you?"

Vanessa crossed her arms, her guilt barely masked by indifference. "I mean... You and Sebastian weren't really that great together anyway."

Something inside me snapped.

I lunged at her.

She screamed, stumbling back into a shelf, knocking over supplies as I grabbed her hair. "You selfish, backstabbing-"

Sebastian yanked me away, gripping my arms. "That's enough, Isabella."

I jerked out of his grasp, chest heaving. My hands were shaking. My heart was pounding. My vision was blurry with rage and betrayal.

I needed to get out of here.

I turned on my heel and stormed out, ignoring Sebastian calling my name. The hospital hallways blurred past me as I walked faster and faster, until I finally burst through the emergency exit doors, sucking in the cool night air.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Breathe. Just breathe.

But I couldn't.

The betrayal. The humiliation. The fact that I had wasted years of my life on a lying, cheating bastard.

I spotted a car parked nearby, and before I could think twice, I swung my fist at the window.

The glass didn't shatter, but a crack spread across it. Pain shot up my arm.

"Shit." I shook out my hand. "That was stupid-"

The car door swung open.

A man stepped out. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a tailored suit that screamed money. And he looked... pissed.

"What the hell did you just do to my car?" His voice was deep, sharp, and laced with irritation.

My stomach dropped. "Oh. Uh." I swallowed. "That was an accident?"

His dark eyes flicked to my hand, which was now bleeding. His jaw clenched. "You punched my window. How the hell was that an accident?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Then, like a complete idiot, I reached up and touched his face.

I don't know why. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the way the streetlight cast shadows over his sharp jawline. But I noticed the tiny cut just below his eye-probably from a shard of glass when I hit the car.

"You're bleeding," I whispered.

His brows furrowed. He grabbed my wrist before I could touch him again. "I'm fine. You, on the other hand, are not."

I shook my head. "I'm a doctor. I can treat-"

"You're shaking." His grip on my wrist tightened, but it wasn't painful. It was steady. Grounding.

I stared at him, breath hitching.

Who the hell was this man?

And why did his touch make my heart race faster than my stupid ex ever did?

He smirked like he could read my mind. "You need a drink."

I blinked. "What?"

"Come with me."

I hesitated. This was reckless. This was stupid. I should go home and cry into my pillow like a normal person.

But screw normal.

I let him lead me to the passenger seat.

I had no idea where we were going.

I didn't care.

The next thing I knew, I was in his penthouse.

One drink turned into two. Two turned into three.

And then his lips were on mine.

I didn't stop him.

I wanted this. I needed this.

I needed to forget.

He lifted me onto the kitchen counter, his hands gripping my thighs as he deepened the kiss. My fingers tangled in his hair, my pulse skyrocketing.

"You sure about this?" His voice was rough against my lips.

I nodded. "I don't want to think."

That was all he needed to hear.

He carried me to his bedroom, his suit jacket hitting the floor as he kissed me again-harder this time. More desperate. Like he needed this just as much as I did.

The last thing I remembered before everything blurred together was the way he whispered against my skin-

"I'll make you forget every damn thing about him."

I woke up to the smell of coffee.

I groaned, pulling the sheets over my head. My body ached in the best way possible.

Holy. Shit.

It wasn't a dream.

I slept with a stranger.

I sat up slowly, my head pounding. My clothes were scattered across the floor. My panties-missing.

Kill me now.

A deep voice pulled me from my misery. "You're awake."

I nearly jumped.

He was standing in the doorway, shirtless, holding two coffee cups. His abs were ridiculous. His entire existence was ridiculous.

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "Yeah."

He smirked, handing me a cup. "You run out on me last night?"

"I-" I froze.

Shit. I didn't even know his name.

He chuckled. "Victor."

Victor.

Why did that name sound familiar?

I took a slow sip of coffee. "I should go."

His eyes darkened slightly. "I'll drive you."

I shook my head. "No, really. It's fine."

He sighed. "At least give me your number."

I hesitated. "Why?"

He leaned in, his voice lower this time. "Because last night wasn't a mistake."

My stomach flipped.

No. Nope. I couldn't go there. This was supposed to be a one-time thing.

I placed the coffee down, grabbed my purse, and rushed to the door.

"Isabella." His voice stopped me.

I turned slightly.

"I'll see you again." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

I didn't respond.

I left.

And as I stepped outside, my phone rang.

It was my boss.

"Get to the hospital. Now."

I barely had time to breathe before the call disconnected.

I stared at my phone, heart pounding.

What the hell was waiting for me at the hospital?