Chapter 1: Before the Collision

[Clark Pov]

Morning sunlight streamed through the thin curtains of my small apartment. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted from the kitchen, but the warmth of it could never truly battle the exhaustion etched into my bones. Nursing was never an easy job but it was a calling, a life I chose not because it promised me riches, but because it gave me purpose.

My name is Clark Reyes Villa, twenty four years old, a nurse in St. Dominic’s Medical Center. People often told me my eyes carried a certain softness, the kind that calms even the most restless patients. Sometimes, though, I wondered if being “soft” was a blessing or a curse.

I slipped into my white uniform, ironed neatly the night before, and fastened the name pin over my chest. I had always taken pride in the little details. Perhaps it was my way of keeping my world intact organized, clean, far from the chaos that lurked outside hospital walls.

In the kitchen, my cousin and roommate, Mara, was already munching on toasted bread while scrolling through her phone. She looked up with a teasing grin.

Morning, Doctor Clark. Oh, wait…you’re just a nurse, she teased.

I rolled my eyes, though the corner of my lips tugged upward.

Good morning to you too, Mara. Don’t choke on your sarcasm I say to her.

She chuckled. One day, you’ll thank me for keeping your ego small. Anyway, are you on the night shift again? She say and ask.

Day shift. Pediatrics. And maybe ER later if they need me I say to her.

Good luck then, she said, softening. You always give too much of yourself. Just… don’t lose who you are.

Her words lingered longer than I wanted them to. Lose who I am? Sometimes, I felt like I didn’t even know who that was anymore.

At the hospital, chaos and compassion collided as always. Children cried, machines beeped, doctors rushed, and yet somehow, I felt at home here. Each wound I cleaned, each patient I comforted it reminded me why I endured the long hours, the low pay, the aching feet. Because somewhere out there, kindness still mattered. Or so I thought. If only I knew that beyond the walls of this hospital, a man lived whose world was built not on kindness, but on fear—and soon, fate would tie our lives together in ways I could never undo.

[Steven’s POV]

The world outside bowed to me or rather, to my name. Steven Monadragon. Mention it in the underworld, and men trembled. Utter it in high society, and they raised their glasses in respect. A contradiction, perhaps but I was both devil and god, feared and worshiped.

I leaned back on the leather seat of my black Aston Martin, cigarette smoke curling lazily in the air. Beside me sat Marco, my right hand man since childhood, eyes sharp, scanning every corner as though danger lurked in shadows.

Tonight’s deal is risky, Marco murmured.

Every deal is risky, That’s why it’s mine I replied coolly, blowing smoke out the window.

We pulled into the private docks where men in black suits stood like statues, waiting for my arrival. Weapons hidden under tailored coats, loyalty etched on every scarred face. This was my kingdom illegal trades well some are legal, hidden fortunes, and power earned not by birthright but by blood.

As I stepped out of the car, silence fell. The kind of silence only respect or fear could summon.

Señor Monadragon, one of the men greeted with a bow of his head.

I nodded once, walking toward the steel containers stacked along the dock. Inside lay millions worth of contraband, but all I saw was leverage, currency for more power. And yet, power was a lonely companion.

Later that night, as champagne fizzed in my glass inside my penthouse, the city lights sprawled beneath me like conquered stars. Beautiful women draped themselves around the velvet couches, laughter echoing like broken chimes. Music throbbed, people worshiped, but my heart remained untouched, caged in iron.

I had no time for love. Love was weakness. Love made men fall. And I was not a man who fell I was a man others fell before.

But life has its cruel humor. I did not know that somewhere in a quiet hospital, an innocent boy with kind eyes was destined to cross my path. A boy who would challenge everything I believed about power, mercy, and love.

[Clark Pov]

The shift dragged late into the evening. A child with a broken arm cried until my gentle words calmed him. A grandmother clutched my hand, whispering thanks after I adjusted her IV. By the time I left the hospital, the city was already blanketed in the hum of nightlife.

Mara had texted me to buy bread on the way home. I ducked into a convenience store, humming softly as I picked the cheapest loaf from the shelf. My life was simple, ordinary and maybe that was enough. But as I stepped outside, I noticed a convoy of black cars racing down the street, sleek and intimidating. They passed by so fast that the night air seemed to tremble. I didn’t know whose world they belonged to or how soon it would entangle with mine.

[Steven Pov]

From my balcony, I watched the same city. Neon lights, endless cars, and millions of lives unaware of the empire that thrived in their midst. My phone buzzed.

Boss,There’s a small issue. Rival gang tried to cut in on our territory Marco’s voice came through.

I smirked coldly. Then remind them who owns this city.

As I ended the call, my eyes flicked toward the reflection in the glass wall. For just a second, I saw the man I used to be the boy before the blood, before the power. But he was gone. Or so I thought. Because fate had already chosen to reawaken him… through a nurse named Clark Reyes Villa.

...--------End of chapter 1--------...

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