The hospital lights hummed, a sterile symphony that did little to calm the tremor in my hands. Today was the first day of my internship at St. Jude's Medical Center, and the air thrummed with a nervous energy that was both exhilarating and terrifying. Noah, my ever-confident friend, walked beside me, his usual smirk in place.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, adjusting the strap of his bag.

I forced a grin. "Do I have a choice?"

He chuckled, but his words offered little comfort. We were about to meet the team we’d be training under. I had mentally prepared for Dr. Nathan Wright, the charming surgical genius, but fate, it seemed, had other plans. Instead, Noah informed me, I’d be assigned to someone else—someone whose reputation preceded him like a storm cloud.

As we turned a corner, Noah stopped short. A figure loomed before us—tall, in a crisp white coat, with an aura of effortless command. "Vivienne, meet Dr. Nathan Wright," Noah announced, and I felt a wave of relief. This was the doctor I’d hoped for.

But before I could properly greet him, another presence descended, even taller, with sharp, intimidating features. My heart sank. Noah’s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Vivienne, meet Dr. Lucas Elijah Tuarez. He's the one you'll be interning under."

Dr. Tuarez. The infamous neurosurgeon. His dark eyes scanned me, unreadable. "We'll see if you're competent enough to keep up." His voice was a scalpel, precise and unforgiving. Nathan’s chuckle echoed behind me as he offered a mocking "Good luck, Vivienne. You'll need it."

Lucas turned on his heel, already walking away. Noah nudged me. "Go. You don't want to keep him waiting."

I swallowed, adjusting my bag. My footsteps felt too loud in the hallway, my heart even louder. This was going to be a long internship.