Page 5 of Secret Baby for the Billionaire Doctor

But here she was, standing before me, looking just as beautiful as the last time I had seen her. And to my surprise, she was wearing a white coat, indicating that she too was a neurologist with this division, at this hospital. I feel a chill run down my spine as our eyes meet. For a few seconds, we just stare at each other, neither of us saying a word. I forgot that I am addressing the crowd. The rest of the staff look on, puzzled by the sudden interruption and long pause.

Ally

The next morning, I wake up feeling nervous and excited about my first day at the hospital as a resident neurologist. The thought of being a resident doctor is scary and stressful. I have already faced difficult milestones in my journey to finish Medical School. I remind myself that I have come a long way and it is now time to start building my career. I feel the excitement as I remind myself that “doctor” is my official title at age 26 years and that my hard work is finally paying back. I quickly get dressed in my new outfit and head out, ready to take on the day.

As I walk through the hospital halls, I notice a buzz of excitement and curiosity among the nurses and staff. I overhear conversations about a new Chief Neurologist who is starting today and how he is supposed to be the best in the field. Everyone is talking about how smart and handsome he is. I overheard one of the nurses saying that he is in his mid-forties.

I feel a twinge of excitement and anticipation. I've always been eager to learn from the best and I'm excited at the prospect of working with someone of his caliber. As I walk into the department, my fellow colleague, Michael, approaches me.

"Hey, Ally! Have you heard about the new Chief Neurologist? I heard he's supposed to be amazing!" Michael exclaims.

"I've been hearing about him all morning. I can't wait to meet him," I reply, feeling eager to learn from someone new.

We wait for about three hours and he is still not here so we sit there talking. The talk begins to bore me and my stomach churns. I had not eaten since that morning so that I could get to work before the new Neurologist but he was not yet here. I know I had to leave to get a quick sandwich, so I tell Michael my whereabouts and leave.

As I head out of the hospital, I realize how famished I am. I had left to work in such a hurry that I didn't even get to eat anything. I spot a nearby restaurant and decide to head in to grab some food. The waiter greets me with a compliment on my looks, but I don't show much interest. I just want to eat and head back to work. I place my order for some pancakes and bacon, and as I wait, I can't help but think about the new Chief Neurologist. I wonder what he will be like, how he will change things at the hospital. I see other people around me, talking about him as well. The buzz is everywhere.

As my food arrives, I dig in eagerly, enjoying the taste and the feeling of fullness. But my mind keeps wandering back to work, to my patients, and to the new Chief Neurologist. I sit in the bustling cafe, sipping on my coffee and enjoying my meal. The aroma of fresh pastries wafts around me, and the low hum of chatter fills the air. It's been a long day at the hospital, and I needed this break. As I eat, I notice a couple sit down at the table next to mine. They seem to be deep in conversation, their heads leaning in close to each other. At first, I try to ignore them and focus on my meal, but their words gradually seep into my consciousness.

"...remember when we went to Greece?" The woman asks, a small smile playing on her lips.

The man chuckles, "How could I forget? That was the best sex we've ever had."

My heart skips a beat as I hear their words. Memories flood my mind, memories of my night few weeks ago in Greece with Dante. The man who had given me the best sex of my life. The Dante who disappeared from my life without a word? I shared my phone number with him, but he never called me. I finish my meal as quickly as possible, my mind consumed by thoughts of Dante. I can't stay here any longer since I need to get back to the hospital. As I walk down the busy street, my heart feels heavy with the weight of memories and unanswered questions.

I walk into the hospital and notice that the other staff members are still gathered in the conference room. I can hear voices from down the hall, and my curiosity gets the better of me. I make my way towards the room, my heart pounding with anticipation. As I open the door, my eyes are immediately drawn to the figure standing at the podium.

It's Dante.

My heart stops, and I feel like I've been punched in the gut. I can't believe my eyes. The shock is palpable, passing through my body in waves. My head is spinning, and I feel like I might pass out. I take a step forward, but my legs feel like they're made of lead. I can't move. I'm rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes away from Dante.

He's changed since I last saw him. His hair is shorter, and he's lost weight. But there's something about him that's still the same. The way he moves, the way he speaks. It's like no time has passed at all. As I stand there, my mind is consumed by memories of our time together. Memories of our conversation at the bar, the way he stole me away from the other guy, the way he handled me in bed that night, and the way my mind trailed after him even after he had disappeared the next morning.".

But those memories are overshadowed by the pain he caused me. I shared my phone number and contact with Dante before our goodbyes in Greece. But the way he left me without a phone call had shattered my heart and left me to pick up the pieces.

My head is spinning, and I feel like I might vomit. I want to run away, to hide from the pain and the memories. But I can't move. I'm stuck here, staring at the man who broke my heart. Dante finishes his speech, and the room erupts into applause. I'm the only one standing still, my eyes fixed on him. He turns towards me, and our eyes meet. For a moment, everything else fades away. It's just me and him, standing in the middle of a crowded room.

Chapter three

The Unexpected

Dante

Istandatthepodium, my heart racing and my palms sweating, as I am barely able to resume my train of thoughts and finish my speech. The room erupts into a standing ovation, and I am momentarily frozen, stunned by the response. As I take in the faces of the audience who are clapping enthusiastically, I try to get a glimpse of Ally who is still standing in her spot at the door.

My thoughts are interrupted by the assistant neurologist, who walks up to me and extends his hand. "That was a fantastic speech," he says, smiling.

"Thank you," I reply, still in a daze. He introduces himself as Dr. Peters, and I thank him again for his kind words.

Dr. Peters then suggests we take a tour of the hospital, and I follow him, stealing one more glance at Ally, as we leave the room and he shows me around the various departments. We start with the emergency room, where patients are being treated for everything from broken bones to heart attacks. The doctors and nurses are moving quickly, yet efficiently, and I am impressed by their dedication and professionalism. The hospital is busy, and every staff member seems busy and very engaged doing their jobs.

Next, we visit the maternity ward, where new mothers are cradling their newborn babies. I watch as a nurse shows a first-time mother how to breastfeed, and I am struck by the beauty of this moment. As we move on to the pediatric ward, I am reminded of my own childhood, and the various illnesses I suffered from. I wonder if that was what initially drew me to medicine. Treating kids who suffer from chronic illnesses is a noble job.

Dr. Peters then takes me to the operating room, where a team of surgeons are performing a complicated procedure. I watch in amazement as they work together seamlessly, each one focused on their task at hand. I think about my own surgical skills and feel a twinge of inadequacy. Perhaps I should have pursued surgery instead of neurology.

As we make our way through the hospital, Dr. Peters tells me about the various patients and their conditions. I listen intently, asking questions and offering suggestions where I can. As a neurologist, I treat patients in different departments regardless of their other comorbidities. Dr. Peters is impressed by my knowledge and expertise, and I feel a sense of pride and satisfaction. I have been in this field for almost twenty years, counting residency years as well.

But throughout the tour, my mind keeps wandering back to Ally. I recall the night we spent together in Greece, the passion we shared, and the way she made me feel. I wonder if she still thinks about me, if she remembers our time together as fondly as I do. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, but it's no use. Ally has infiltrated my mind, and I can't seem to shake her off.

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