The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 290

This agonizing standoff dragged on for what felt like an eternity.

A fire of sheer rage ignited in my chest. Seeing Ferris acting like he was enjoying a theatrical performance at my expense made my blood boil. I took a furious step forward. "Ferris, say something... tell them if we know each other... or not..."

Before I could even finish the sentence, the world tilted, pitching me into absolute darkness as I completely lost consciousness.

A cascade of warm water sliding down my neck gradually brought me back to my senses. My eyes fluttered open into a haze of thick steam. Through the mist, I saw Ferris gripping a showerhead, precisely guiding the scalding stream over my frozen collarbones with the terrifying focus of a surgeon wielding a scalpel. And I was... curled up against his chest?

His Adam's apple bobbed sharply above the soaked collar of his dress shirt. "Pupillary reflex delayed by zero point three seconds," he muttered coldly. "This is what happens when you act like a stubborn martyr."

As the water stream abruptly shifted, I violently choked and gasped for air. My ice-crusted eyelashes fluttered wildly as I found myself staring directly into his chest, his shirt unbuttoned halfway down. The overpowering scent of medical sanitizer tangled with his signature cedarwood washed over me, and reality finally snapped into place. This wasn't a nightmare.

We were in the master bathroom of our apartment at Eden Gardens.

"Ferris..." Memories of the agonizing humiliation at Hawthorn Residences flooded my mind. I thrashed wildly, trying to break free from his grip, but his hand clamped around my wrist like a surgical vice. "Are you happy now?" I snapped furiously.

Suddenly, his hand cupped the back of my neck, forcefully pressing my head against his shoulder. The freezing bell of his stethoscope pressed flush against my chest as his expression hardened into deadly seriousness. "Core temperature ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Sinus bradycardia. Move one more inch, and I'll inject you with a syringe of chlorpromazine."

Ha! Now he wanted to play the righteous savior? He certainly hadn't cared about my well-being when he was working me like a dog earlier.

"Let go," I demanded irritably, deeply unsettled by the suffocating intimacy between us.

But Ferris ignored me entirely, ruthlessly maintaining his dominant hold. As the warm water trailed past his luxury watch and slipped beneath my collar, every ounce of grief and humiliation I had suffered finally erupted. Moving purely on instinct, I lunged forward and viciously bit down on his Adam's apple. The sharp tang of blood exploded in the steamy air. In retaliation, Ferris's large hand instantly clamped around my jaw, his thumb dragging aggressively across my blood-stained bottom lip.

"CPR requires mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," he murmured, his rapid breath ghosting over my damp eyelashes as his predatory gaze locked onto mine. "Is this Dr. Hayes's way of asking for a dose?"

A dull thud echoed through the bathroom as my head slammed back—not against the ceramic tiles, but against the protective palm he had swiftly wedged behind my skull. As his lips crashed violently against the pulse point of my neck, the taste of rust and the scent of their sudden passion filled the air. The heavy crash of the showerhead hitting the floor perfectly muffled the breathless whimpers tearing from my throat.

A long while later, he pulled away with a heavy exhale, leaving me stranded alone in the massive bathtub.

By now, my frozen, rigid limbs had finally regained their warmth.

Ferris didn't leave the apartment that night, but he slept in the guest bedroom.

Knowing he hated when people beat around the bush, I laid my cards on the table. "I want you to be the primary surgeon for my uncle's third procedure."

The moment the words left my lips, he let out a mocking scoff. "Does Dr. Hayes honestly believe that pulling a pathetic stunt in the rain last night was enough to make me change my mind?"

I lifted my chin, staring him down without an ounce of fear. "Not at all."

He blinked, clearly taken aback. Before he could respond, I pressed on. "I know you operate strictly on principles, Dr. Sterling. You'd never let personal feelings interfere with your work. But I also know that because you value your career above absolutely everything else, you are going to take this case."

Ferris obviously hadn't expected this angle. "Oh? Is that so?" he drawled, his interest piqued.

"You know perfectly well that my uncle's case is a medical anomaly. It's the kind of complex neurosurgical challenge that Capital General hasn't seen in decades. If you take the surgery and succeed, it adds a massive, undeniable triumph to your legacy," I stated entirely factually. "And even if you fail, you both know it will serve as a groundbreaking case study for you and the entire Department of Neurosurgery. Either way, you stand to gain from this. Don't you?"

Ferris listened to my pragmatic breakdown and let out a cold laugh. "Selena Hayes, I severely underestimated you. You've even prepared a perfectly righteous excuse to manipulate me?"

I stared fiercely into his eyes. "It's not an excuse. The Ferris Sterling I know is relentlessly ambitious and ruthlessly driven. The only reason you'd refuse is if you've grown so addicted to the praise and power at the top that you've turned into a coward too terrified to take a risk."