The Million-Dollar Nurse

Ever since we were kids, every girl I knew was in love with Asher Ray.
From the sweet, spoiled girl next door to the cold, untouchable queen of our prep school.
Then came the accident. The girl next door was left blind. The campus queen was left with a limp.
And Asher? He packed his bags and fled the country, leaving them in my care.
But in their eyes, I wasn't a caretaker. I was the villain who had meticulously planned their downfall. They made my life a living hell.
I endured it all in silence for the exorbitant salary.
Until the day I finally saved enough money. I quit without a second thought.
That night, the blind girl next door snuck into my room.
And the campus queen with the limp blocked my path, standing on two perfect legs.

1
CRASH—
The ceramic medicine bowl flew past my cheek and shattered against the wall.
I moved to clean up the shards, a familiar routine.
Chloe Evans sat on the bed, the stark white of the patient gown clinging to her curves. Her pale, delicate features made her look like a tragic porcelain doll.
At least, until she opened her mouth.
"Get out! I don't want you taking care of me! I don't want to see your face!"
"I'll be gone as soon as I clean this up."
"Leo, you think I don't know what you're doing?" she shrieked. "This is all revenge because I pretended not to know you at school! You deliberately caused the accident that made me blind!"
She tried to leap from the bed, and I instinctively moved to steady her. The moment my hands touched her waist, she shoved me with all her might. I fell backward, my palm landing directly on a sharp piece of ceramic. A hot, stinging pain shot up my arm.
"Who are you trying to fool with this fake concern?" she spat. "You think I can't tell you have a crush on me? Well, I will only ever love Asher! I would never fall for a penniless, good-for-nothing loser like you!"
"Call Asher right now! I want him to come back from wherever he is and fire you! I don't want someone like you taking care of me!"
Pain lanced through my hand, but a deeper ache settled in my chest as I looked at her tear-streaked face.
She was right. I did love her.
It started when we were kids, back when we were still neighbors. She was beautiful, like a doll brought to life. From kindergarten through elementary school, boys flocked to her. But she was always trailing behind me, calling me her "big brother." Falling for her was the easiest thing in the world.
Then my dad's business went under. Drowning in debt, he sold our house and ended up as Asher Ray's family driver. And I became Asher's shadow. It was years before I saw Chloe again.
The truth is, I had nothing to do with the car crash. I just happened to be handing out flyers nearby that day. Asher and Chloe had a fight. He pushed her. She stumbled into the street and was hit by a car.
Asher pays me four thousand dollars a month to keep my mouth shut.
One, he's terrified Chloe will retaliate if she finds out. Two, he was never planning on a future with her anyway. The accident was just a convenient way to dump her.
To deflect her anger, he arranged for me to work as her caretaker at the private rehabilitation clinic.
I'm broke. I need the money. And after all these years of swallowing my pride, what's a little more?
Chloe's voice rose to a screech. "Leo, are you deaf? I know you said something to Asher to turn him against me! That's why he won't come back! People like you, who'd do anything to get what they want... it serves you right that your own mother abandoned you and your dad!"
I was gritting my teeth against the pain in my hand, but her words hit a nerve. The air in the room went cold.
"I'm taking care of you because it's my job. Nothing more."
She sneered and hurled a pillow at me. I caught her wrist, my grip tight. She winced, tears welling in her eyes, but she finally fell silent.
"Get out," she hissed. "And stay out of my room."

2
As I stepped out of the room, I saw Isabelle Vance.
She was sitting in her wheelchair, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders, a gentle, serene smile on her face.
"Chloe giving you a hard time again?" she asked softly. "She’s always been like this. Back in high school, she used her connection with Asher to act like she owned the place. Now that she's blind, I'm sure she's even worse. I'll talk to her for you later."
I shook my head. "It's fine. She's just having a bad day."
"You're so good to her. I guess the rumors from school were true. You really are in love with her."
She picked at the old wound so casually.
It was Asher who had found the clumsy love letter I wrote to Chloe when I was a kid. He plastered copies of it all over the school's bulletin board, making my hopeless crush a public spectacle.
Back then, Chloe was so desperate to distance herself from someone of my low social status that she acted like my very existence was an embarrassment. She slapped me across the face in front of everyone, her own face streaked with tears of humiliation, and ran off.
No one cared how I felt. I was drowning in a sea of mockery and contempt. And the two architects of my misery? They were kissing under the setting sun that evening, the school's golden couple, admired by all.
That was when Isabelle had appeared. Gentle, poised, with a smile as sweet as summer. The goddess no one could touch.
"Leo," she had said to me. "That's a nice name. You have nice handwriting, too."
It was the first kindness I had received from a classmate. I just stood there, stunned. For a long time after that, I believed Isabelle was one of the good ones.

3
"Your hand is bleeding. Come on, let's get that cleaned up in the medical office."
Pulled back to the present, I saw Isabelle's calm smile. She turned her wheelchair and headed down the hall.
This clinic assigned two patients per villa. The car that hit Chloe? Isabelle was the one driving it. They had both been admitted together, assigned to the same villa.
Isabelle pulled a first-aid kit from a drawer. As I sat on the sofa, her cool, slender fingers gently dabbed at my palm. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating her flawless, almost-pale skin. It was a picture of perfect tranquility.
"So... has Asher been in touch with Chloe lately?"
"No."
"And have you called him? What did he say?"
I thought back to my last call with Asher. The background was loud, filled with music and laughter. He had just yelled at me.
"I told you not to call me unless it's an emergency! Are you deaf? I pay you four grand a month. If you can't even handle this, you don't deserve the money!"
Then, a girl's syrupy voice in the background. "Ash, baby, who are you talking to?"
The line went dead.
At that moment, Chloe had been sobbing, her nose red, looking utterly pitiful. I had to lie, telling her Asher was swamped with exams and had no time to visit. She didn't believe me, convinced I was part of the conspiracy against her.
"He wants nothing to do with her," I told Isabelle. "He said nothing. They're not getting back together. You don't have to worry."
"Hearts change, Leo. Who knows what the future holds? Maybe after you take care of her for so long, she'll actually fall in love with you."
Isabelle's smile never wavered, but the pressure of the cotton swab on my wound increased sharply.
I flinched, pulling my hand back.
"I take care of her because she's my patient. I have no other intentions. And I give you updates because you also pay me four thousand dollars a month."
"It's good that you see things so clearly," she said, her tone like a patient teacher's. "The gap between our worlds... love can't bridge that. Asher and Chloe are the perfect example. Chloe went blind, so Asher could discard her without a second thought. But he can't just abandon me, even though I'm also disabled."
"I know. An alliance between your families is inevitable."
"As long as you know." She curved her lips into a knowing smile, as if she were genuinely looking out for me.
I knew better. It was just a mask, one she used to get close to people, dissect their weaknesses, and then deliver the final, fatal blow.
I discovered the truth behind her mask shortly after I started working here. I made her favorite coffee every day, and she would sit on the balcony, reading quietly. She always finished every last drop. I thought she genuinely appreciated my coffee-making skills.
Then, the flowers in the balcony planters started to wither. I called in a specialist, who told me someone had been regularly pouring coffee into the soil.
I turned around. Isabelle was sitting in her wheelchair, smiling that same gentle smile, but a chill ran down my spine.
Her kindness was a facade. In her eyes, I was just dirt from the gutter. So the coffee I made was just as filthy, just as disgusting.

4
Chloe was demanding to see Asher again.
This time, she held a fruit knife to her own throat. "Leo, if you don't call Asher right now, I'll kill myself," she threatened, her voice shaking. "I'll make sure everyone thinks you're a murderer. I'll send you to prison!"
She knew I couldn't afford to lose this job. The money from Asher and Isabelle covered my own expenses and took half the financial pressure off my dad.
I sent a barrage of texts. Finally, Asher took pity on us and answered. The moment Chloe took the phone, I snatched the knife away.
She held the phone to her ear like it was a precious jewel, her voice choked with pitiful sobs.
Asher hung up quickly. She didn't seem to notice, continuing to chatter away into the dead air. She really was desperately in love with him.
I remembered a time she had called me, begging me to help her lie to her mom. She wanted me to say we were going to the library, when she was really going to a concert with Asher. Her mom, who always had a soft spot for good students, never suspected a thing.
That day, Chloe looked like a princess in a puffy dress, her legs slender and pale. She had shoved a hundred-dollar bill into my hand. "Here," she'd said with contempt. "This is for your help. I don't want to owe you anything."
She would never have stooped to asking for my help if she hadn't been desperate. Just like now. Even when she handed the phone back, knowing he had hung up on her, she was like a stubborn little animal, refusing to admit defeat.
"Asher's been pulling all-nighters studying. He must have hung up by accident," she insisted. "Leo, if you dare say one bad word about him, I'll make you regret it."
I could only nod in agreement.
A fine mist began to fall outside. Chloe's eyes were red-rimmed. "Leo," she mumbled, "even if the whole world pities me, I don't want your pity."

5
Her words echoed in my mind long after I left the room.
A loud clap of thunder snapped me out of it. Isabelle. I remembered her fear and ran to her room.
I opened the door just in time for a porcelain doll to fly past my head and smash against the hallway wall.
"Get out!" she roared.
"I know you're scared," I said, my voice calm. "I promise, I'll leave as soon as you're asleep."
"I don't need you to play hero."
I didn't want to. But the last time there was a thunderstorm, Isabelle had shattered a window and cut her hands to ribbons. If she hurt herself again, I'd be the one held responsible.
This was the first time I'd been inside her room. She was fiercely private, and in her mind, I was utterly contaminated.
The room was nothing like the persona she projected. It was all dark furniture, black sheets—oppressive and grim. Shelves were crowded with dolls of all kinds, red, white, black, all with wide, staring eyes.
The room was a reflection of her soul, and her inner world was darker than I could have ever imagined.
The lights were off. The room was illuminated only by the flashes of lightning outside. Her wheelchair was overturned, and she was huddled in a trembling ball at the foot of her bed.
I moved toward her, intending to lift her from the cold floor. "Let's get you into bed. I checked the forecast. The storm should pass in about half an hour."
The moment I touched her, she lunged, sinking her teeth into my arm. She bit down with the savage force of a feral animal tasting blood for the first time. I sucked in a sharp breath against the pain.
After a long moment, clarity seemed to return to her. Her eyes were wet as she looked at me. "Why didn't you move?"
"I was afraid I'd hurt you."
It was the truth.
She wiped the blood from her mouth, a cold sneer on her lips. "You think a gesture like that will move me? Your tactics are so pathetic, Leo. You're all the same. Despicable, shameless, without a shred of decency."
You're all the same. Who was she talking about?
Before I could ask, another flash of lightning sent her scrambling into my arms.
I lifted her onto the bed, closed the window, and drew the heavy curtains. Worried she was still frightened, I switched on the small night light. In its soft glow, her face was pale, a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead.
"You don't have to say it again. I'm leaving now."
I turned to go, but I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked back. A faint blush colored her cheeks, and her voice was stiff. "There are storybooks in the second drawer. C-could you read one to me? Just... until I fall asleep?"
I hesitated for a moment, then did as she asked. In the quiet of the night, my voice filled the room with tales from the book.
Gradually, Isabelle's breathing evened out, and she fell asleep.
As I tried to leave, I realized she was still clutching my sleeve. I gently pried her fingers loose. She must have sensed the movement, because she stirred, murmuring fretfully in her sleep.
"Mom... Mommy, don't go... don't leave me..."
I guessed her mother must have abandoned her on a stormy night just like this one. It would explain her terror.
As I closed the door, I glanced back at the dolls lining the shelves. Suddenly, they didn't seem so menacing. They looked more like guardians.

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