With a small, embarrassed laugh, she disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her.
Outside, Ethan stood by the window, gazing out at the busy streets below.
He allowed himself a rare, fleeting smile.
Maybe this morning, for once, he wasn't thinking about strategies or empires.
Maybe, just maybe... he was thinking about her.
Jillian emerged from the bathroom, her hair still damp, wearing the fresh clothes Charles had just delivered.
The soft, loose sweater and jeans weren't her usual polished style, but somehow, in that moment, she looked effortlessly beautiful.
Ethan, seated by the window with two plates of breakfast laid out, glanced up — and for a heartbeat, simply stared.
"You clean up well," he said casually, but there was a warmth behind the words he couldn't quite hide.
Jillian smiled shyly and joined him at the small table.
Morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a golden glow across the simple setting — toast, eggs, coffee.
It felt almost too normal, too intimate for the chaos of their usual lives.
As Jillian sat down, Ethan slid a plate toward her with a smirk.
"Eat everything. Doctor's orders," he said, raising an eyebrow.
Jillian chuckled, picking up her fork. "I thought I was the doctor here?"
"This morning, I outrank you," Ethan teased, leaning back in his chair with a coffee in hand.
Jillian shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Bossy patients are the worst."
"Only because you're a stubborn doctor," he shot back smoothly.
Their playful bickering faded into comfortable silence as they ate, the kind that didn't need filling.
Every so often, their eyes would meet over the table, small smiles exchanged — like a secret only they understood.
When Jillian reached for her coffee and yawned at the same time, Ethan laughed under his breath.
"Next time, one glass of wine. Max."
She stuck her tongue out at him in response, and he couldn't help but laugh — a genuine, rare sound.
Somewhere between the lazy morning light, the soft laughter, and the clinking of cutlery, the distance between them felt smaller than ever.
The breakfast stretched on longer than it should have.
Between the clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of morning light through the windows, there was a fragile peace.
Jillian found herself stealing little glances at him — at the way he calmly buttered his toast, the small crease between his brows when he read a message on his phone.
It shouldn't feel this easy… this normal.
But here we were — sharing coffee, teasing each other like no time was ever lost.
Maybe… maybe not everything had to stay broken.
Maybe some things were worth stitching back together, even if it hurt.
She tucked the feeling deep inside, finishing her coffee with a smile that lingered even as she stood to leave.
After checking out of the hotel, Jillian and Ethan stood side by side at the curb, the morning air crisp around them.
There was a brief pause—neither quite ready to break the bubble of comfort that had formed overnight.
Jillian tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying to hide the slight flush on her cheeks.
Ethan, hands in his pockets, gave her a small, genuine smile.
"Take care of yourself today," he said, his voice low, almost reluctant.
"You too," Jillian replied, feeling an odd tug in her chest.
They exchanged a soft, lingering look—something unspoken but heavy in the space between them—before parting ways.
Ethan's sleek black car arrived first, and he offered her one last glance before sliding inside.
Jillian watched the car disappear into traffic, feeling an unfamiliar weight settle over her.
Pulling her coat tighter around herself, she flagged down a taxi.
Back to work. Back to normal, she told herself.
But deep down, she knew—normal was already shifting.
In the Hospital, the familiar sterile scent of disinfectant and the muted hum of hospital life wrapped around Jillian the moment she stepped through the entrance.
She pushed aside the lingering warmth of the morning with Ethan and slipped her white coat on, settling it around her shoulders like armor.
Yet something was off.
As she made her way toward her office, passing nurses and interns, Jillian caught the subtle shift—the hushed whispers, the sideways glances that quickly darted away when she looked.
Her instincts prickled.
Inside her office, a crisp white envelope sat on her desk, no name, no sender.
She hesitated for just a breath before opening it.
Inside was a neatly printed notice: Internal Review Scheduled.
Jillian set the paper down slowly, her heart sinking.
An internal review wasn't random—someone had filed a complaint or raised questions about her work.
Given the recent sabotage attempt with the patient file, Jillian knew immediately this wasn't just bureaucracy.
Someone was still trying to push her out.
She leaned back in her chair, gaze steady on the ceiling.
No panic. Not yet.
Instead, she started to make a plan.
First, she needed to find out who was behind it.
Second, she needed to protect not just her reputation—but also the life she had worked so hard to rebuild.
And somewhere, quietly in the back of her mind, a thought surfaced,
If Ethan finds out, he might get involved again.
And this time, Jillian wasn't sure if she could keep their worlds apart.
At MyCorp, Ethan leaned back in his executive chair, the skyline of Shanghai sprawling beyond the glass walls behind him.
His fingers tapped lightly against the desk, but his mind wasn't on the next business deal or the upcoming board meeting—it was still caught on the quiet, perfect memory of breakfast with Jillian.
Charles knocked lightly and entered, carrying a folder but pausing when he saw the faraway look in his boss's eyes.
After a moment, Charles said carefully, "Sir… the board won't stay quiet if they find out you're getting involved personally."
It wasn't a warning—it was a reminder of the stakes.
The board had been restless lately, sniffing for vulnerabilities.
Ethan closed his eyes briefly, then sat up straighter.
He knew the rules of power: distance, control, image.
And yet, when it came to her... those rules felt smaller somehow.
"Will I shield her quietly again, like I always have?" Ethan wondered.
"Or this time..."
He straightened his cufflinks, the decision settling into him like armor.
"I'm not hiding anymore," he said, his voice low but firm.
"If they want a fight, they'll get one."
Charles hid a sigh, but nodded.
For the first time in a long while, Ethan Hunter would take a bold, open risk—
Not for business.
Not for profit.
But for a woman he couldn't—and didn't want to—let go of anymore.
By the afternoon, Ethan had already made several quiet but decisive moves.
He didn't charge in with his name blazing across memos or meetings.
Instead, he moved pieces—like a chess grandmaster, subtle and deliberate.
First, he made a call to an old acquaintance, one of the key private investors backing the hospital's research initiatives.
Not about Jillian directly—no, Ethan was smarter than that.
It was a reminder call, a gentle nudge: "Support the talent. Protect the right people."
Second, he arranged for an anonymous donation to the hospital's research department—a donation large enough to win him indirect influence over the board members who would have been quick to raise concerns about Jillian.
Third, Ethan had Charles send a discreet message to the hospital's PR team:
Any rumors circulating regarding the hospital's doctors needed to be "managed appropriately" to prevent reputational harm...
Especially concerning rising talents like Dr. Jillian Smith.
No names mentioned.