With a sigh of frustration, Tristan ordered Alex, his most trusted aide, to gather a comprehensive list of all the doctors currently in Paris or who had boarded flights here recently. The task was gargantuan, even for Alex. Yet, failure wasn't an option.
Tristan's eyes narrowed, and he replied in his usual calm, authoritative manner, "Then find a shortcut. Time's running out."
Alex sighed, muttering something about impossible tasks, but nonetheless set to work. There were only a few hours left until the meeting, and Tristan's mind raced. He knew Dr. Lifeath would anticipate this kind of approach, so he needed something unconventional, something she wouldn't see coming. His brows furrowed in concentration as he formulated a new plan.
Admiring the foresight in Dr. Lifeath's precautions, Tristan thought, This one is playing chess while the world plays checkers.
He devised something clever—if Dr. Lifeath didn't want to be found among Paris' doctors, she had to be an alias, a shadow in plain sight.
"Alex," Tristan ordered through clenched teeth, "organize a summit. Invite all notable doctors in Paris. Make it prestigious, something no one would want to miss. Schedule it for tonight—exactly at 8 p.m. North side of Paris." He smirked, knowing full well it would leave only one doctor unaccounted for at the bar.
Alex, on the other end, nearly choked at the task. Organizing a last-minute summit with less than six hours' notice was insane. But with his boss breathing down his neck, he dared not argue. "Got it, sir. I'll handle it."
He organized the prestigious medical summit across town at the opposite end in Paris, exactly at 8 p.m., when the meeting at Schmooze Bar was scheduled. He was already aware that Dr. Lifeath would never waste time at a public summit, but the rest of the doctors in Paris would be drawn to the prestigious conference held by Stark Group. He knew that Dr. Lifeath, being the only remaining doctor in the area, would stay at Schmooze Bar, giving him an upper hand in tracking her. His meticulous plan was already in motion, with Alex sweating over gathering data on every doctor aand organising the summit in the city. It was the perfect cover, and if it didn't lure Dr. Lifeath out of hiding, it would at least reduce the competition.
Tristan smiled to himself—two birds with one stone. The summit boosted Stark Group's reputation, elevating their stocks, while at the same time limiting any other doctor's ability to be at the bar that night. That left Dr. Lifeath standing out more than before. But he wasn't done.
"I need a few men to simulate medical emergencies at Schmooze," he told Alex in a low voice.
"Sir?" Alex blinked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly.
Tristan continued, his tone calculating, "There's no way Dr. Lifeath, no matter how cunning, arrogant or moody would sit by if there's a shortage of medical help. She's still a doctor, and she can't resist her oath. If the bar's medical staff are overwhelmed, she'll step in."
It was a bold assumption, but Tristan trusted his instincts. Dr. Lifeath may be arrogant, but she was still bound by her principles. Tristan chuckled, amused by his clever ploy. "Let's see how noble you really are, Dr. Lifeath."
While all of this unfolded, Summer was comfortably lounging in her hotel suite, unaware of Tristan's meticulous scheming. She admired Tristan's cleverness when she caught wind of the summit he'd arranged, indirectly appreciating how her nemesis had done something that actually benefitted society.
"Not bad, Tristan," she muttered, a smile tugging at her lips as she sipped her coffee.
But her admiration didn't last long—she had a meeting to prepare for, and time was ticking. With a glance at her phone, Summer checked her carefully orchestrated plans, making sure the Schmooze Bar's security systems were working perfectly. The club, being hers, had top-of-the-line privacy for its clients, including discreet VIP and VVIP lounges. It was going to be a daunting task for Tristan to find her tonight, and she chuckled at the thought. If he could manage it, she might even reveal her identity as Dr. Lifeath; otherwise, he simply wasn't worthy.
Her plan was in motion, and she felt an odd sense of satisfaction imagining Tristan's frustration as he navigated the web she'd woven for him.
At Schmooze Bar, Summer had arrived fifteen minutes ahead of time. The bar was crowded as usual, the atmosphere alive with chatter, music, and energy. She looked around, her sharp eyes scanning the place with amusement. Tristan's going to struggle tonight, she thought, smirking to herself. The Schmooze Club, with its strict privacy policies, its secretive VIP lounges, and the constant hustle, was the perfect battleground.
She blended effortlessly into the dancing crowd, moving with the rhythm. Her graceful sways were fluid, seductive, and captivating, yet she kept her mind focused on her surroundings. She had deliberately chosen this club, her own property, as a test. If Tristan manages to find me here, then he's worthy of a meeting. If not, well... he's just not worth my time.
Meanwhile, Tristan was already present, sitting in a VIP lounge, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. He wasn't the type to sit idle, though. His gut told him that Dr. Lifeath wouldn't make an entrance through the front doors or the lounges—too obvious. No, someone that elusive would blend in first. He stepped out of the lounge, eyes narrowing as they roamed over the crowd, and that's when he saw her.
His heart skipped a beat.
Amidst the crowd, swaying to the rhythm of the music, was Summer—his Sam. He recognized her immediately, her hair catching the light, her body moving gracefully, every motion hypnotic. For a moment, he forgot why he was there. His thoughts shifted from Dr. Lifeath to her.
What's she doing here? he wondered, his gaze locking on her. She looked absolutely stunning, more than just beautiful—there was something sultry and magnetic about her tonight. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Her every movement drew him in like a siren's call, and he found himself watching her, mesmerized. The way she swayed her hips, the subtle confidence in her every gesture—it was enough to make him momentarily forget his mission.
Sam, he thought, surprised to find her here. He had no reason to suspect she was anything other than a woman out to enjoy her night, but something about her pulled at his heartstrings. His mind raced, torn between admiring her and the nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him why he was there.
His men, however, were already enacting the next phase of his plan. A series of fake medical emergencies unfolded, patrons around the bar suddenly choking, gasping for breath. The medical help stationed there was quickly overwhelmed. Tristan, distracted by Summer's presence, snapped out of his reverie, reminding himself of the task at hand.
From across the room, Summer noticed one of the patrons near her choking. Her doctor's instincts kicked in, and she immediately moved toward him. Her eyes caught sight of Tristan standing on a balcony, and for a moment, she thought it was an odd coincidence for him to be there. Must be here for business, she concluded, rushing toward the man in need of help.
Tristan, seeing Summer react, frowned in confusion. Is she a doctor? he wondered, shaking off the notion as she had previously told him she was a business major. Still, no other customers rushed to help except the bar's own medical staff. That struck him as odd. His mind began racing.
Could Sam be Dr. Lifeath?
And then, his heart lurched as he saw her pull out her phone. Is she calling 911? But before he could think any further, he watched in horror as Summer suddenly dropped her phone, her face going white as if the very life had been drained from her. She collapsed to her knees, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Tristan knelt beside her, all he could think was, What happened?