Love Unforced

The night was drenched in a torrential downpour, the humidity so thick it was almost suffocating.

Zoey King folded her uniform neatly and stuffed it into her backpack, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

11:47 PM. She was the only one left in the morgue, as usual.

"Zoey, still here this late?" The security guard on duty shone his flashlight as he passed by.

"Just about to leave." She put on her mask, her fingers brushing against the scalpel in the hidden pocket, the cold touch made her feel safe..

The back alley behind the morgue was her shortcut home.

Even though the streetlight had been out for half a month, it was quiet.

Zoey held a black umbrella, her sneakers making soft splashes in the puddles.

Suddenly, she stopped, turning her head towards a certain spot.

The faint scent of blood mixed with the rain was barely noticeable but unmistakable.

Logically, she should have turned around and taken another route.

But Zoey liked the quiet and was used to this path.

She lowered the umbrella to cover most of her face and continued forward.

The closer she got, the stronger the scent of blood became.

"Alexander Garcia, you think you're getting out of here alive tonight?" A rough male voice cut through the rain.

A flash of lightning illuminated the scene deep in the alley.

Seven men in black, armed with sharp weapons, surrounded a man leaning against the wall.

Despite being covered in blood, the man stood tall, like a drawn sword.

"Excuse me, can I pass through?" Zoey asked politely.

Her sudden voice made the leader of the men in black turn sharply, squinting at her. "You want to save him?"

Zoey lifted the edge of her umbrella slightly, revealing her small chin and tightly pressed lips. "Just passing through."

The leader stepped forward, his voice cold. "You think I'll believe that?"

They had cornered Alexander here to finish him off, knowing no one would take this path.

He waved his hand, and three men immediately surrounded Zoey.

Zoey frowned, growing impatient.

"Sweetheart, we'll make it quick for you..."One thug looked at Zoey with a lewd grin on his face.

Just as he was about to make a move on Zoey, she struck first with lightning speed, snapping shut the umbrella in her hand and striking the thug with its handle, knocking him unconscious instantly!

"I said, just passing through."Her voice was colder than the rain, tinged with clear irritation.

The three men surrounding her were shocked, instinctively stepping back, only to be scolded by their leader.

"What are you afraid of? Get her! She's just a girl!"

They needed to finish this quickly, without making too much noise, and definitely without letting Alexander escape back to the Garcia Villa.

In the chaos, Alexander glanced at Zoey.

He hadn't expected such explosive power from such a small body.

Whatever her reason for being here, she was helping him, and he needed to get back to the Garcia Villa alive.

That glance made Zoey pause for half a second.

Those eyes, she had seen them before.

When she was twelve, the orphanage had caught fire, and someone had pushed her out of a window through the smoke.

Her last memory was of those eyes, like the brightest star in the night.

It seemed her intuition was right.

She had initially planned to turn around and leave, remembering the unidentified body she had helped her teacher with last month, still lying in the morgue.

Her teacher had said it was gang-related and told her to stay away from such things in the future.

So when she smelled the blood, she had wanted to leave, but some inexplicable instinct made her take one step forward, then another.

Until she stood in front of Alexander.

"Watch out!" Alexander suddenly lunged, pulling her back to reality.

As the men in black raised their weapons to strike, she pulled Alexander behind her, her counterattacks becoming fierce.

The scalpel sliced through their wrists, and the butt of a gun she had taken smashed into their noses.

Alexander, back to back with her, used his combat skills to take down two men, but his vision grew increasingly blurry from his injuries.

The men in black attacked more ferociously, their moves deadly, but they were no match for Zoey.

They couldn't understand how this seemingly delicate girl could be so formidable.

Could she be Alexander's bodyguard?

"What are you standing around for? If they don't die, we will!" the leader of the men in black roared.

Hearing this, the remaining men hesitated for a moment, then charged in a rage.

Zoey moved swiftly, each strike of her scalpel precise and ruthless.

In less than a minute, all the men in black were on the ground, groaning, unable to get up.

She shook the rain off her umbrella, ready to step over the half-conscious Alexander and leave.

As she stepped over him, his bloodied hand suddenly grabbed her pant leg tightly.

"Let go," Zoey said coldly.

Alexander didn't let go, his voice hoarse. "...Take me with you."

Zoey looked down, meeting a pair of beautiful eyes, so familiar that she pursed her lips and frowned.

Alexander passed out completely before she could respond.

She sighed, finally, and crouched down to hoist Alexander over her shoulder, heading to her secret base.

There were no cameras in this alley; she could have just left him.

But those eyes were too familiar, and she instinctively picked him up.

She had worked hard to escape her past and couldn't afford to get involved with the police again.

Her secret base was in the basement, not far from the lab building.

It was where she dissected special bodies.

Zoey dumped Alexander on the dissection table, the harsh light revealing the gaping wound on his shoulder blade.

His blood-soaked clothes were in the way, so she had already torn them off when she brought him in.

She put on rubber gloves and selected the finest suture needle from the tray, administering anesthesia first.

As she began stitching, the needle piercing his flesh, Alexander's eyes snapped open, his hand clamping down on her wrist.

"Who sent you?" His voice was cold, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

Zoey was surprised the anesthesia hadn't worked on him.

She tried to pull away but couldn't, so she struck him in the stomach with her knee.

Alexander grunted, but his grip didn't loosen; instead, he pulled her closer, their faces inches apart.

He smirked, his breath heavy with pain. "You're pretty skilled. This isn't your first time, is it?"

Zoey narrowed her eyes, her other hand suddenly drawing a scalpel to his neck.

"Let go, or I'll be dissecting a corpse instead of stitching a wound."

Alexander stared into her eyes above the mask, finally releasing her so she could continue stitching.

"You hate killing, don't you? In the alley, you had the chance to kill them, but you only knocked them out."

Zoey didn't answer, the needle piercing his flesh again.

The anesthesia really didn't work on him; veins bulged on his forehead as he gritted his teeth.

Twenty-seven stitches, taking a full half-hour.

By the end, Alexander was drenched in sweat, as if he had been pulled from the water.

He tried to sit up, only for Zoey to chop the back of his neck, knocking him out again.

"You talk too much. It's annoying." Zoey stuffed him into a burlap sack, slung him over her shoulder, and dumped him on the street.

When Alexander woke up, he found himself back at the Garcia Villa.

"How did I get back here?"

The bodyguard answered nervously, "Mr. Garcia, we found you on Central Street, lying next to a trash can."

Only God knew how shocked they were to find Alexander by a trash can.

They thought it was an enemy's prank, but after a professional doctor examined him, they found his wound was perfectly stitched, with no other issues.

So they were even more curious but didn't dare ask.

Alexander pressed his sore neck.

"Find out everything about tonight. I want to know who those men were."

"And that woman, find out who she is and why she was in that alley."

Three days later.

In Alexander's private villa, Oliver Taylor barged in with Daniel Wilson right behind him.

Oliver was Alexander's subordinate and was very concerned about Alexander's health condition. The purpose of him bringing Daniel here was to have Alexander's injuries examined.

Alexander was lounging on a leather sofa in the living room, his shirt open to reveal a bandaged chest. He looked pale but still had that intense, sharp look in his eyes.

"I heard they found you next to a dumpster?" Daniel teased, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. "Who had the guts to do that?"

Alexander shot him a cold glare. "Shut up."

Daniel chuckled, but when he pulled back the blood-stained bandage, he froze.

His eyes widened, and the cigarette fell from his lips.

"This stitching..." His voice tightened. "It's perfect."

As a doctor at an international war hospital, he'd seen countless wounds but never such precise stitching.

Each stitch was precisely spaced at 0.03 inches, blending seamlessly into the skin and leaving no scars.

Daniel grabbed Alexander's shoulder abruptly. "Who did this? Which hospital?"

His voice trembled with excitement. "There are fewer than five people in the world with this skill!"

Alexander's eyes flickered. "I'm still looking into it."

Daniel reluctantly changed the bandage, lowering his voice. "This is the work of a special forces medic. No ordinary person could do this."

"I know." A dangerous glint flashed in Alexander's eyes.

When he found that woman, he would make sure to "thank" her properly.

Just as Daniel left, a call came in from the Garcia Villa.

Oliver answered, his face turning pale. "Mr. Garcia, he..."

Alexander snatched the phone, his voice steady. "Everything's fine."

After hanging up, he tossed the phone back to Oliver.

"Lying to Mr. Finn Garcia like that..." Oliver's voice wavered.

If Alexander's grandfather, Finn, found out about the attack, the entire Emerald City would be in turmoil.

Alexander sneered. "What have you found?"

Oliver quickly pulled up some information on the screen.

The display showed a photo of a delicate-looking girl, labeled: [Zoey, medical school intern, specializing in animal dissection.]

"So," Alexander sneered, "I was saved by a vet?"

Sweat beaded on Oliver's forehead. "Her file is encrypted by the military. This is all we could find."

He pulled up surveillance footage. "And on the day of the incident, she was the only one who passed through that alley."

Alexander stared at the screen, recalling the pair of impatient yet intensely focused eyes he had seen before losing consciousness.

A smile tugged at his lips. "Interesting."

"Mr. Garcia, the people that night didn't seem like ordinary thugs, but Zoey handled them alone and..."

Oliver's voice dropped. "And she stitched you up without batting an eye. Zoey is no ordinary person. "Are we really going to make contact with her?"

"Of course." A playful glint appeared in Alexander's eyes. "She is my savior, after all."

Oliver shivered at the dangerous light in Alexander's eyes.

Alexander had barely returned to the country when he was ambushed. He was lucky to be saved, only to be found by his own men next to a dumpster.

Anyone would hold a grudge for life over that.

"Mr. Alexander Garcia, about Mr. Finn Garcia..."

"Keep your mouth shut." Alexander's voice was calm. "I want to see Zoey."

Oliver was taken aback. "Now?"

"Yes, now." Alexander strode towards the door, his black coat trailing behind him in a sharp arc.

Oliver remembered Zoey's cold, icy eyes from the surveillance footage and suddenly felt she wouldn't be easy to approach.

Alexander's grand entrance might just get him a cold shoulder.

Lunchtime, behind the medical school.

Zoey was biting into a sandwich, her pen swiftly jotting down experimental data in her notebook.

Suddenly, several shadows blocked the light.

"Zoey?" The leader twirled a metal pipe. "My boss wants an explanation."

She looked up slowly, her eyes indifferent behind thick glasses. "Who's your boss?"

"Don't play dumb!" The pipe swung towards her head. "The biker you saved two days ago! He's dead!"

The pipe stopped five inches from her head.

He obviously messed with the wrong person.

Zoey's left hand gripped the attacker's wrist, while the tip of her pen pressed against his throat.

The sunlight glinted off the pen; a slight push would end his life.

The man was utterly shocked. He never would have imagined that Zoey, who looked so delicate and fragile, could strike with such ruthless precision, subduing him in an instant.

Wasn't this woman a doctor? How could she possess such formidable skills?

"First," Zoey adjusted her glasses, "your friend died of a heart attack."

"Second," the pen tip drew blood, "you ruined my lunch."

On the ground lay her squashed sandwich, the cream filling mixed with dirt, which only worsened her mood.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, and she applied more pressure.

The man screamed, threatening, "If you hurt me, my friends won't let you off!"