Page 1 of Intense
Prologue
STEPHANIE
Two years ago…
Song- Infinite Baths, Sleep Token
No matter how many lives I save, I’m constantly haunted by the parts of myself I lost to get here. Lost isn’t even the right word. They were ripped away from me.
I’ve always been proud of my achievements, like they validated my pain. I let themhurt me so I could be successful in my dream job.
And I was at peace with that. Until today, when the devil rested on my shoulder and whispered at me to kill a man on the operating table.
And for a split second, I thought about it. I wanted him dead, and I wanted to be the woman to kill him.
But I can’t. I’m well respected. I work with charities. I’m the second-best surgeon here, knocked off my top spot by the sudden appearance of an asshole by the name of Dr. Quinn.
As I go to take the syringe from my surgical gown to hide in my locker, the door creaks open. I freeze, the air shifting to ice cold.
And I know whose heavy footsteps they belong to.
“Good work today, Dr. Miller.” Finn’s deep Irish drawl makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Thanks,” I whisper back in an attempt to hide my sadness.
I can never show that side of myself to Dr. Quinn.
Today’s operation hit me harder than anything before in my career. Coming face to face with a monster of my past.
“What’s the attitude about?” he asks, resting his back against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.
The only reason this patient is still alive is because Dr. Quinn was assessing me the entire time.
“Nothing. Long day,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket from my locker.
I’m not a monster for having these murderous thoughts. Am I?
I shake my head and stop in front of Finn. His huge, tatted biceps tense. He doesn’t move from the door.
“Can you move?” I can’t hide my irritation.
His jaw twitches, and his pale grey eyes lock on mine. There’s something sinister behind them.
It’d be easier to despise his existence if he wasn’t such a fantastic surgeon. It would be even easier if he wasn’t so damn attractive. Like he’s just walked off the page of a romance book, smothered in tattoos and a delicious accent.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re so damn snappy with me all the time?” he asks, his eyebrow arching.
I huff. I’m fighting a moral dilemma right now. I wanted to kill a man. Not a man—an abuser.
“Because I don’t like you, Dr. Quinn,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
He snickers.
“But I respect your talent. And the fact you now basically own this hospital, and my career is in your hands.” I fake a smile.
He won’t fire me. Because this department is in shambles other than me and Dr. Quinn.
He shrugs, like he’s completely unaffected by my statement. He slowly pushes himself off the door and moves out of my way.
