Bound by Deception.

Eighteen years ago...

Fiona's POV

The sound of thunder slammed against the roof, killing all the ants that had been seeking shelter. The streets were quieter than usual; no kids playing in the rain, no lovers making out near the field.

The rain fell heavily now, accompanied by lightning. I watched it closely, almost counting the massive drops. My eyes drifted to a car that sped into the compound. I couldn't see clearly, but it was evident people were stepping out of it.

My door pushed open. It was my mother. It was her birthday, but the look on her face told a different story. "Come here, Gabriella," she called, grabbing my coat from the hanger.

She swiftly packed a good amount of clothes into a box. I watched as she panted, tears streaming down her face.

"What's wrong, Mum?" I heard myself say, tapping her as I spoke.

"Shush," she cautioned, handing the box to me. "Leave through the window."

"But why, Mum?" I cried, holding her tight. "I won't go anywhere."

She bent down to pull me close, giving me a hug. Something inside told me it was the last hug from my mother, a final goodbye.

"Look," she pulled me away, "a bad group of people are here to send us to the angels up there. You remember the angels I told you about?"

I nodded. "Let's go together then, Mum. You said it's fun up there."

"Listen, my love, go to Mrs. Smith. Find your way there and tell her I sent you. You must live quietly all the days of your life. No one must know you're from this home. Do you understand?"

I cried even harder, but she pushed me away.

"Go, don't turn back, make sure you run far away. Go!" she whispered, watching me jump down from the window. I looked back into the room as a group of men barged in, dragging her by the hair. I covered my mouth, sobbing.

As I ran across the field, darkness fell. I was scared and stopped to go back, but as I turned, a wildfire pushed me down. When I looked up, my house was engulfed in flames.

"Mother! Father!" I wailed, with blood gushing from my head. Though my vision was blurry, I saw the men climb into the car and speed away.

The number plate on the car was unique, not like the ones Father had shown me at his workshop.

My head felt weaker and lighter. I stretched my hand as if to reach out to an invisible being, but before I could move further, a strong force lifted me onto his shoulders.

"Shush, it's me, Gabriella. Don't cry, go to sleep," he patted me on the back as he walked away.

I looked at the house through my dizziness, but there was no house anymore, just flames. The warmth of the fire seemed to melt away all my strength and I finally succumbed to the darkness, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

Fiona's POV

"Ahhhhhhh! Fiona!"

My eyes snapped open, darting around the room to find the source of the scream. I swung my legs off the bed and rushed to the living room.

Of course, it was Isabella, my exuberant girlfriend. Her excitement could only mean one thing: news about a Korean actor or a handsome rich man who had just arrived in London.

"Guess what, Fiona?" Isabella ran to me, hitting me hard on the back.

"Ouch," I shouted, returning the slap. "What is it?"

"He's back, he's back!" Isabella jumped around, gasping for breath.

"Who's back?" I laughed, walking to the countertop and filling a cup with water from the refrigerator.

"Alexander Brooks!"

My grip loosened on the cup, and it shattered on the floor. Isabella ran to me. "I hope you're fine?" she asked, cleaning the floor.

I nodded, hiding my trembling hands. "Who's that again?" I sighed, gaining composure as I walked back into the living room and sat close to Isabella, who giggled at my confusion.

"Alexander Brooks is London's most popular CEO-handsome, tall, bold, brave, hardworking, diligent, rich-everything one could ever wish for," Isabella gushed without pausing for breath.

"Oh, that Alexander Brooks."

I actually did know who he was. He belonged to the Brooks family, the most influential in all of England.

"So where has he been?" I sipped my water which I had filled again.

"Well, he left home ten years ago to study in Hong Kong, where he started a business school. Interesting, right?"

I nodded, now intrigued by the story.

"Now his father, Jordan Brooks, has retired and handed over the Brooks Company to him. Just imagine how rich he is!"

I stared at her for a moment, really imagining his wealth. The rich never seem to have anything to worry about, right?

As I listened, my phone beeped, signaling a new message.

I didn't need to look at it to know who it was from. Of course, my annoying boss, Mrs. Patricia.

In all my years as a doctor, I'd never dreaded going to work this much. This started when Mrs. Patricia was transferred from headquarters. My life had become a living nightmare.

"The devil again?" Isabella laughed. She knew my expression all too well-the what-do-you-want-from-me-now look.

"It's the devil, and she seems to thrive on my misery," I stretched, running to my room. It wasn't a large room, just enough for a single lady with no love life.

I had moved out of my parents' house at a young age, after their death.

The room, though sparsely furnished, reflected my loneliness. I walked to the wardrobe and picked out a short pink skirt and a white blouse, then grabbed a pair of canvas shoes from the shoe rack.

I quickly dressed, tying my hair into a ponytail.

When I returned to the living room, Isabella was still on her phone, squealing over images of Alexander Brooks.

"Get over him, you fool," I said, kissing her on the cheek before heading out.

"I love you," Isabella called after me, her voice fading as I left.

The street was bustling as usual, with children running around with their parents, couples holding hands while crossing busy roads, and shopkeepers cleaning windows and doors.

I bit my nails, going through my call log. "Found you!" It didn't take a while before I phoned him, he picked up immediately.

"Hi."

"It's the time you've been waiting for. Are you ready?"

"How's his health?" I asked still biting my lips.

"It's worsening, this is the time he needs a personal doctor, I'll put in good words so you'll be posted there," he said, immediately hanging up.

A taxi stopped as soon as I signaled it. "City Hospital, please."

The taxi driver, a middle-aged man with a cheerful look, asked, "Can we go now?" waiting until I was settled.

"Yes, please," I responded. The city looked slightly different today. The sun was higher than usual. "It's going to be a rough day," I muttered as I burst through the hospital doors.

I was a resident doctor and had attended Yale School of Medicine on a scholarship and now worked at the city's hospital.

"Good morning, Fiona," a voice called out, giving me a look that screamed "run faster."

I dashed to the elevator, but it was filled to capacity. The only option left was the stairs. "Oh, shit," I muttered, running to the side of the building and taking the two hundred steps up to Mrs. Patricia's office.

it felt like a heavy stone was pressing down on my heart. As I walked into Mrs. Patricia's office, a sense of foreboding washed over me.

I entered cautiously, my lips pressed tightly together. To my surprise, Mrs. Patricia wasn't wielding her usual fountain pen with a critical air which she did anytime she was up to frustrate everyone. Instead, she wore a satisfied expression.

I glanced behind me, wondering if she was really looking at me.

"What's wrong, Miss Campbell?"

Wait, did she really just call me that?

"Ma'am?"

"You seem more beautiful than usual. Have you been going on dates?"

"Sorry, what?" I said, taken aback. Mrs. Patricia only acted this way when she wanted something, and it was never optional. I watched her lips move slowly.

"So, you might have heard about the Brooks family?" she said, sorting through the files on her desk, the wrinkles beside her eyes more pronounced.

I met her gaze. So this was what all this was about? "Yes, ma'am. What about them?"

"Well," she cleared her throat, "Jordan Brooks, a significant investor in the hospital, is ill. He'll be needing a physician."

"What!" I bowed slightly, "I'm sorry..."

"There's no need to reject," she cut me off, picking up a red pen from the pen cup. "I'm actually working on your transfer letter. You may have heard of Mr. Mark."

Mr. Mark was notorious-a lunatic, a sexual predator. Despite numerous allegations, no evidence had ever stuck against him.

My heart sank, not of sadness, but happiness. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for. I bit my lip until it turned red.

"Would you prefer to go there?"

"No, no ma'am," I stuttered, pinching my palms.

She slammed the file shut, dropping the pen. "I'll assume you've accepted the assignment."

I wasn't going to refuse before. I knew everything about the Brooks family, but being sent there felt like being a sacrificial lamb in Mrs. Patricia's power play.

"If I may ask, ma'am, for how long?"

"You have no idea how influential Jordan Brooks is, do you? If you do your job well, something good might happen. Who knows?"

I understood her underlying motive-a potential promotion she had always coveted. It wasn't about my well-being.

I didn't have to think too hard. Everything was falling into place, thanks to him. "I'll go, ma'am."

Mrs. Patricia swiftly walked over to me, clasping my hands in hers. A chill ran down my spine, and I took a step back as she spoke.

"Thank you. Make sure you behave well. If you need any help, I'll send the team," she said, practically skipping out of the office in joy.

Watching Patricia walk away, I smiled and whispered, "You're finally back, Alexander Brooks. It took a while."

Finally!

Fiona's POV

The drive to the Brooks residence which was situated in Chelsea, was a long one, probably an hour. The building was magnificent, likely the most impressive I'd ever seen. It had a sculpture in the middle with water pouring into it from a fountain. The statue was of Harry Brooks, Jordan's father.

The security guards stopped me from entering, asking for an invitation card or letter. "I'm sorry, I was sent by City Hospital to treat Mr. Brooks."

One lanky guard signaled to let me in.

I stepped into the building, my eyes feasting on the luxurious surroundings. As I moved further, a man approached me. "Come with me," he said, leading me into the living room.

"Wow!" I blurted out, taking in the opulent decor. I stared with a mixture of fury and surprise; they seemed to live well. An enormous artwork caught my attention, but my thoughts were interrupted when a lady in a black dress approached me.

"You must be Miss Campbell," she said, smiling brightly.

"Yes, I am," I responded quickly, showing my ID card. "I was assigned as the personal physician to Mr. Brooks."

She nodded and extended her hand. "Please follow me."

I obeyed, following closely behind her. We walked up a steep set of stairs, the golden railings reflecting my image, making me wonder how much this place cost.

We entered a closed room, and she locked the door behind us.

A man sat across from me with his legs crossed. In front of him were two pieces of paper, which he quickly slid over to me.

"I'm Lucas Kim, the legal adviser to Mr. Jordan Brooks. I'm glad to see you, but before you can meet Mr. Brooks, you'll need to sign a non-disclosure agreement."

I read through the document.

"That means," he continued, "whatever you see or hear in this house during the treatment of Mr. Brooks stays in this house. Any deviation from this will result in severe penalties."

So this was how the elite operated? I thought to myself as I picked up the pen he handed me and signed.

He quickly collected the paper, putting it into his briefcase. "Thank you. You may keep the other copy."

The woman led me out of the room and into another part of the house. She stopped at a door and knocked softly. "May I come in, sir?"

I was more nervous than when I took my medical exams.

This was my dream, meeting the man who destroyed my life face to face.

The door opened, and there he was, Jordan Brooks. Pale, weak, but still exuding an air of arrogance. He looked up, and our eyes met.

"Ah, Miss Campbell," he said, his voice weak but his tone still condescending. "I hope you're ready for me."

I smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "More than you know, Mr. Brooks."

As I walked into the room, I knew this was my chance. Every moment I spent here would be a step closer to my ultimate goal. I'll make sure he feels every bit of the pain he caused me, masked perfectly behind my professional facade.

*******

"Mr. Brooks, I'll administer some medication. You'll be fine," I concluded the session with a reassuring tone, gently removing the blood pressure cuff from his arm.

He smiled warmly. "You're one polite lady."

Every time I looked into his eyes, I saw the same fire that consumed my parents eighteen years ago. My hands trembled at the memory of that cold, fateful night.

"Miss Campbell? Miss Campbell?" The woman in black called repeatedly, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Can you show me the way to the restroom?" I smiled again, picking up my purse and turning to Jordan. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Brooks."

He nodded, coughing lightly. "Jennifer, show her to the restroom," he said, putting on his glasses and picking up a newspaper.

I followed Jennifer as she led me down a narrow passage. "Go down those stairs. The restroom is on the left."

"I might get lost. What about those stairs?" I pointed to a larger staircase nearby, curiosity piqued. "Where do they lead?"

She hesitated, as if debating whether to answer.

"Don't worry, I'll find my way," I said, trying to stop her from following me. "I feel uncomfortable. Do you want to come into the restroom with me?"

"No, Miss Campbell, I'll just wait here."

I walked down the stairs, glancing over my shoulder to see if she was still there. When she disappeared, I swiftly took the other stairs, wondering why she hadn't replied. Were they hiding something valuable?

The lobby I found myself in was narrow and less grand, with only one door on its side. I walked to the door, turned the knob, and froze at the sight of a man dressed unmistakably as a servant.

Clutching my purse tightly, I moved closer and deliberately bumped into him. "I'm sorry," I murmured, bowing slightly before looking up into his eyes. He didn't budge.

"Where are you going, ma'am?" he inquired, stepping back.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quickly.

He stared at me, confused. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm Fiona Campbell, Mr. Brooks' physician. I got lost on my way to the restroom. This house is so big, even a lion could lose its way," I said, attempting a light tone.

He eyed me for a moment, suspicion lingering. "It's the other way," he muttered and walked off.

I nodded and continued down the stairs, biting my nails furiously. Why was that room so secluded? Jordan Brooks was definitely hiding something, and I was determined to find out what it was.

*************************************

The sun dipped below the horizon as I entered the hotel room, no longer the usual Fiona.

I wore a crop top, bum shorts, and heels-a stark contrast to my typical attire. In reality, being Fiona was the disguise.

The hotel room was modest and functional, with beige walls and a queen-sized bed covered in crisp white linens. A small wooden desk with a flat-screen TV above it sat across from the bed. A single armchair in the corner and a floor lamp added a touch of coziness. The carpet was a worn dark gray, and heavy curtains framed a large window overlooking the city street. The compact bathroom had standard fixtures. Davis lounged on the bed, cigarette in hand, adding an air of disarray to the otherwise tidy space.

I tossed my glasses aside and sat next to him.

Davis wasn't a friend; we were kindred spirits, having grown up in the same orphanage.

I glared at him. "Can you stop smoking?"

"Care for some?" he offered.

"You know I hate smoking," I snapped, slapping the cigarette from his mouth.

He retrieved it, walked to the bin, and discarded it. "What do you want, Gabriella?"

I approached him. "Didn't I tell you not to call me that?"

He smirked. "What? Already used to Fiona? I heard Alexander is back. Mister told me."

"Yes," I replied, bouncing on the bed and lying flat. Davis climbed up, pulling me close.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I heard they are one awful family," he whispered, playing with my hair.

I pushed him away. "Go find someone else to bother."

He laughed. "You never change. What? Because you want to be the daughter-in-law of a rich family?"

"Who said I'll be marrying him? He's just the means to stay close to the family," I turned to him. "What about what I asked for?"

Davis walked to a shelf in the corner of the room. "There's going to be a party, a closed one-just friends and family."

"So, he's the social type."

He opened a drawer. "Lora, one of those wealthy airheads..."

"Oh, the gullible one. So you're still draining her?"

Davis raised his hands in mock salute. "Until she's dry."

"Psycho."

"Lora gave me access to her email, and an invitation was sent. Interesting, right?"

"No way. You have access to her account?"

"She even gave me her bank password, satisfied with the sex."

I laughed, jumping off the bed. "So you'll be at the party as her boyfriend?"

"And you'll be at the party as Fiona Campbell, Jordan Brooks' physician."

"There was a room that stood out, the only one in a narrow lobby. I guess that's Jordan's room. I have to get in."

"Mister said no dangerous games. Just seduce Alexander."

I walked up to him, pulling him close. "What if there's something valuable in there? Wouldn't you go? I feel there's something important."

Davis sighed, pulling away. "If we're caught, everything we've planned is over."

I took a step closer. "Do you think I came this far to get caught? They live well, eat well, sleep well-they have everything, and look at us..."

Davis was easy to sway when money was involved.

"Fine," he conceded.

"Then tomorrow it is," I said, grabbing my glasses from the bed. "Bring that girlfriend of yours. It'll be fun."

As I left the room, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. "I'm coming for you, Alexander Brooks.