Chapter 186 

Irene flopped onto her bed, stafing at the ceiling. What kind of guy ashes a half–billion–dollar deal over some awkward lunch? math refused to compute in her brain. 

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” she muttered, punching her pillow into submission. 

The 

She squeezed her eyes shut, determined to stop obsessing over Adam Haven’s baffling decisions. His words followed her into dreams anyway: Some things matter more than money. 

Morning sunlight hit her face as she grabbed her keys. The kids were still knocked out–small mercies for her hospital drive. The quiet would help clear her head before rounds. 

Hospital corridors reeked of disinfectant and coffee as she headed to Brandon’s room. Her brother’s face lit up when she walked in. 

“Sis! You came!” Brandon beamed like he’d won the lottery. 

Irene nodded, keeping it professional. “How’s it going?” 

Henry materialized from the corner, handing her the chart. “Latest numbers, Doctor.” 

Brandon sank into his pillows. “Not terrible. Docs poke at me daily. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “Getting used to the boring- as–hell routine.” 

Irene scanned the reports, tension melting as each number looked better than she’d expected. 

“Good. Recovery first, fancy treatment later. No rushing it.” 

She studied Brandon’s injury pattern. Slow and steady would work better than any aggressive therapy that looked good on paper but risked backsliding. 

“Stick to the plan,” she said, handing back the clipboard. “We’ll talk next steps when you’re stable.” 

Brandon nodded, clearly biting back more words. Irene slipped out with a quick nod. 

Her post–op patient’s room was her next stop. She pushed the door open and paused–Matthew stood by the bed, checking monitors with practiced ease. 

“Patient status?” she asked, crossing to the opposite side. 

Matthew looked up, eyes warming. “On track.” His voice dropped. “Didn’t expect you today–thought you might actually take a break 

for once.” 

Typical Matthew–quietly noticing when she pushed too hard. Something oddly comforting about that familiarity. 

Irene checked the IV drip and monitors, confirming what she already knew: Matthew had everything handled. 

All yours,” she said, backing away. 

Matthew caught up with her in the hallway, fishing in his jacket pocket. “Before you bolt-” He pulled out a fancy envelope. “Grandfather’s dragging me through the Silver City meet–and–greet circuit. Says I need to plant my flag‘ here.” He rolled his eyes slightly. 

The invitation felt substantial between her fingers, with “Hayes” printed in the corner. It transported her back to their side–by–side years at R Country’s medical center. 

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Chapter 186. 

“After all our time in the trenches, of course I’ll come cheer from the sidelines, she said, thumb tracing the lettering. Old Dr. Hayes would instantly open doors for Matthew in Silver City with his backung. 

Matthew brightened. “Thanks. Car will pick you up tonight. I’ll be stock playing nice with the bigwigs all evening.” 

They hammered out quick details before parting ways. 

Across town, Adam scanned quarterly reports while Thomas walked with 

an 

identical envelope. 

“Hayes family thing tonight,” Thomas said, opening it. “Medical crowd shindig.” He studied the name, brow furrowing. Hayes… why does that sound familiar? 

Adam glanced at the invitation. “They’ve got medical tech investments worth exploring.” He set it aside, mental gears turning. “We’ll 

go.” 

His thoughts shifted to his evening plans. “Need to tell Sterling about canceling tonight.” 

I’ll handle it,” Thomas jumped in. 

Adam paused, then shook his head. “I’ll tell her myself.” 

Twenty minutes later, Adam’s wheelchair stopped at Irene’s door. She opened it, surprise flickering across her face at seeing him instead of just Thomas. 

“Got a thing tonight,” Adam said, voice softer than his boardroom tone. “Need to push treatment back.” 

Irene’s mouth quirked. “Funny timing–I’ve got plans too.” 

Their eyes locked, each searching for clues about what yesterday’s drama actually meant. Adam spotted a wrapped box on her side table–probably evening wear. 

“Work thing?” he asked, curiosity slipping through. 

“Friend invitation,” Irene replied vaguely, skipping any mention of Matthew or Hayes. 

Adam nodded, equally tight–lipped about his plans. “Have fun, then. 

His gaze lingered a beat too long before he turned away. Thomas hung back, relieved to see the ice melting between them, however slowly. 

Later, Irene finished setting out dinner for the kids. 

“Bedtime at nine, non–negotiable,” she said, pointing at each child. “James will check in, and if I hear about any chaos, Universal Studios gets canceled.” 

“Pure angels tonight,” Alex promised with suspicious enthusiasm. 

Irene–shot him a yeah right look before heading upstairs to change. Her black dress was elegant but understated–perfect for someone planning to stick to the walls at a fancy party. 

Her phone buzzed with a text from Matthew’s driver. After kissing each child goodnight, she slid into the waiting car. 

The Hayes estate took her breath away. The place screamed old money–massive gardens surrounding a fountain where guests posed with champagne, pretending they weren’t impressed. 

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Chapter 186. 

Inside, chandeliers hung from sky–1 high ceilings, lighting up antiques and portraits of stern looking Hayes ancestors, Servers drifted between clusters of perfectly ressed people, carrying drinks and ting food nobody would admit was insufficient for dinner. 

Irene thanked her stars for picking the black dress. Silver City’s upper crust swirled around in designer everything, jewelry flashing with each laugh and head toss. The air smelled like money–perfume mixing with wine as talks about medical breakthroughs competed with gossip about who was sleeping with whom. 

She spotted Matthew across the room, his grandfather’s hand planted firmly on his shoulder as they worked the crowd. The old doctor beamed with pride, his white hair and beard giving him that wise elder vibe. 

Irene grabbed a tiny dessert from a passing tray, hanging back until he right moment to say hello. 

As she turned, her stomach dropped. Twenty feet away stood Samantha, poured into a pale blue dress that screamed designer price tag. She held court among other trust fund princesses, all giggling blind fancy glasses. 

Just my luck, Irene thought, setting down her plate and pivoting away Yesterday’s awkwardness was still too fresh. 

“Dr. Sterling!” 

Too late. Samantha’s voice cut through the chatter as she glided over her smile as fake as a three–dollar bill. 

Her entourage exchanged looks, sizing Irene up in one sweep. 

“Samantha, you know her?” a blonde whispered loudly, not bothering to hide her inspection. 

Samantha’s smile stayed frozen. “This is Irene, a physician who recently returned to town.” 

Irene watched their faces change. The moment “physician” registered their interest vanished like free drinks at happy hour. Pearl- lady flashed a quick smile before turning back to Samantha with a question about someone who actually mattered. 

Some things never change, Irene thought. No trust fund, no existence. 

Samantha leaned in, her perfume cloud almost suffocating. “Here with Adam tonight?” Her voice dripped venom. “Following him to parties now? That’s dedication.” 

Irene’s pulse jumped. Adam is here? She kept her face neutral, meeting Samantha’s glare. 

“Just a guest, Samantha. Nothing to do with Adam.” 

Across the room, completely unaware of Irene’s arrival, Adam sat beside Matthew. Neither man smiled as they sized each other up from behind perfect social masks. 

Adam shifted in his wheelchair, eyes narrowing just slightly–the chess player spotting an unexpected move on the board. 

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