Chapter 1 Thinking I'm the Girlfriend

It was easy to remove someone from your heart. If you couldn't erase them completely, at least you didn't lose your self-respect.

Ingrid Leone had secretly loved Brandon Geppard for 10 years, but she never expected to benefit from their proximity. It was Brandon who, after drinking, held her hand, told her he was single, and insisted on taking her home.

That night, Brandon wasn't just acting on drunken impulse—after all, both of them were in the medical field. A truly drunk man wouldn’t be able to function.

So, judging by Brandon's enthusiasm, the alcohol wasn't making him reckless—it was just fueling his desire.

Sure enough, the next morning, Brandon didn't try to pretend nothing had happened. Instead, he said, "Let's give this a try."

Ingrid had wanted him for so long that she saw no reason to play coy. She nodded readily.

But then, Brandon had a condition. "I just got promoted to department deputy head, and you're preparing for your head nurse evaluation. It's best if we don't make this public for now—I don't want people questioning it. What do you think?"

Ingrid thought it made sense. Their hospital was the most prestigious private hospital in York City, and securing a title there was even more competitive than in top-tier public hospitals. Every doctor and nurse came from an elite university.

Brandon had started high school at 13 and fast-tracked through his medical studies. Despite being a genius, he had still spent six to seven grueling years before finally earning his department deputy head title.

Ingrid agreed. She didn't want Brandon to be scrutinized, and she certainly didn't want to hinder herself either.

They worked in the same hospital and constantly crossed paths, yet no one suspected they were in a relationship—because they were excellent at pretending. Pretending to be professional.

Brandon wasn't even 30 but was already making a seven-figure salary. Plenty of people pursued him—from nurses and doctors to wealthy socialites and even patients. But he always remained cold and distant, keeping things strictly professional.

Someone so disciplined, so seemingly devoid of personal affairs—who would believe he had a secret lover?

Ingrid, on the other hand, wasn't single because she lacked admirers, but because her burdens were too heavy.

A deceased father, a sick mother, a younger brother still in school, and no York City resident registration. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty enough to have suitors—it was that her burdens were too heavy, and her life wasn't something an average man would want to take on.

Behind closed doors, Brandon was a different person. In his white coat, he was impeccably proper. Without it, he was utterly shameless.

He was Ingrid's first man, and he fulfilled all her fantasies about what a man should be. She knew that his family background was far superior to hers. Dating didn't mean marriage. But perhaps it could happen?

After all, he had broken up with Zelda Jackman after being together for so many years. Ingrid admitted she was greedy. Just having him wasn't enough. Three months wasn't enough. She wanted a lifetime.

On the eve of their 100-day anniversary, Ingrid planned a small celebration. But Brandon was out of town for work. For three or four days straight, he didn't answer her calls. He only sent brief Whatsapp replies like, "Just got out of a meeting."

Doctors often didn't even have time to eat when they were busy, so Ingrid understood. Still, on their actual anniversary, she found herself heading to Brandon's apartment, almost on impulse.

She didn't ring the doorbell—she simply entered the passcode. As the door creaked open, a trembling female voice came from inside.

"Who did you bring home?"

There was no response. The woman's voice turned more frantic. "Brandon, I'm asking you, who did you bring home?"

Ingrid's gaze fell to the entryway, where two pairs of shoes sat by side—one was Brandon's, the other a pair of five inch stiletto heels.

Brandon still hadn't answered. A ridiculous hope flickered in Ingrid's mind. Maybe it was just his ex causing a scene? But in the next second, his voice cut through the air.

"What are you doing? Put the knife down!"

The woman sobbed, "Tell me the truth—have you fallen for someone else?"

Brandon replied, "Don't be crazy!"

"Then tell me, who is she?" the woman shouted.

Without hesitation, Brandon said, "A fling. It's just a fling. Are you happy now?"

That alone was enough to drain the blood from Ingrid's face. But what truly shattered her was what came next—when the woman threatened her own life, and Brandon actually cared.

"Brandon, how could you do this to me?" she wept.

"You're the one who wanted to break up. You said you didn't regret it," Brandon retorted.

"I was just upset. I only wanted you to reassure me."

"And what about you? What exactly is your relationship with that guy?"

"I told you a thousand times—nothing! Nothing! You're the one who assumed I betrayed you. Do I have to die just to prove I never lied?"

A loud crash echoed through the apartment, followed by Brandon's panicked voice. It sounded like something had been knocked off the coffee table. Then, a furious roar thundered through the air.

"Zelda!"

Zelda's voice trembled with both grief and madness. "Tell me, who is she? How many times have you slept with her? Do you love her? Is she pretty?"

"I never liked her. I was only with her to piss you off. Happy now?"

"You bastard, Brandon!"

Ingrid quietly closed the door. She had no interest in eavesdropping on lovers rekindling old flames or their heated exchanges.

She didn't barge in demanding justice—not because she lacked confidence, but because she had self-respect.

Every day, someone in this world got caught up in something unfair and disgusting—whoever it happened to was just unlucky. It was best to not know why.

…

Ingrid snapped out of her daze. The man beside her noticed and asked, "Are you okay?"

She didn't want to discuss such things—especially not with a man she had only known for 40 minutes. She hasn't sought revenge on Brandon. But this man? He was, indeed, her tool to forget about that jerk.

Ingrid's mind was consumed with how to end this absurd encounter—she had an early shift tomorrow. When it was over, the man was gentle. "Do you want to shower?"

Ingrid rarely spoke, but this time she did. "You go first."

The man got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. When he came back, he sensed something was off—there was no one on the bed.

Sure enough, when he turned on the light, it was empty.

…

Ingrid returned from a two-day break and arrived at the inpatient department at 7:50 am to take over from her colleague who was about to finish their shift.

One of the colleagues informed her, "Two new patients were admitted to VIP1 and VIP2 the night before last. Both were in a car accident.

"Their external injuries were treated in another department, and they're transferred here for orthopedic surgery—one for the spine, the other for the cervical vertebrae. The first surgery is scheduled for 9:00 a.m."

Ingrid asked, "Which doctor is operating?"

"The cervical surgery in VIP2 will be performed by Mr. Geppard. VIP1 hasn't been assigned yet."

Ingrid was surprised. "What do you mean by 'hasn't been assigned'?"

Lowering her voice, the colleague explained, "You're off the past two days, so you wouldn't know. I just heard from the others—VIP1's patient specifically requested for an external doctor. They're waiting for his availability."

Ingrid grew more curious. Most patients who came to Peaceheart Hospital were either wealthy or influential. If they were here, it meant they trusted the hospital's medical standards. Why would they insist on an outside doctor?

Seeing her confusion, the colleague whispered, "Apparently, the patient has ties to the Jackson family."

That made sense. Peaceheart Hospital was practically the Jackson family's private hospital. If their friend was admitted, they could certainly pick any doctor they wanted.

Just as she was pondering this, her colleagues suddenly greeted someone behind her. "Mr. Geppard."

Ingrid turned to see Brandon approaching. He had been on leave for a week, and this was the first time she had seen him in six days. As always he looked both strikingly handsome and distant.

Ingrid remained as composed as ever. "Mr. Geppard."

"Mm," he responded lightly as they passed each other.

A young nurse watched Brandon's retreating figure and sighed. "With someone like Mr. Geppard, why doesn't he have a girlfriend?"

Another colleague chimed in, "Maybe he's too perfect, and no one feels worthy."

"Such a shame… If this were a drama, I'd end up with Mr. Geppard."

"Why?"

"Because I'm just an ordinary girl. If I were rich and beautiful, the drama wouldn't even make it past 10 episodes."

Listening from the side, Ingrid couldn't help but smile.

…

At 2:30 p.m., the department head, Ainsley Zimmerman and the department head nurse, Lilliane Cooper called for a brief meeting. But despite being labeled 'brief', every senior and associate senior doctor attended, even those off duty.

Ainsley beamed as if he had won the lottery. "Let me introduce him—this is Jasper Clifford.

"Dr. Clifford entered York Medical University before the age of 14 and is an alumnus of many here. For the past six years, he's been training in Osmo and Grunland.

"Don't be fooled by his young appearance—he already has over a decade of clinical experience and is considered a senior in the field. He performed today VIP1 spinal surgery for five hours and utilized 19 screws…"

Some had heard of Jasper and were already in awe. Those unfamiliar quickly realized the complexity of the procedure and wasted no time singing his praises.

Jasper responded politely, "You're all too kind. I still have a lot to learn. I hope to receive your guidance during my time at Peaceheart Hospital."

The young nurses practically had stars in their eyes. They had thought Brandon was the pinnacle of an accomplished, handsome doctor, but Jasper seemed to surpass him both in credentials and presence.

The entire room was filled with smiles—genuine or otherwise—welcoming Jasper. Except for Ingrid. She couldn't smile at all. She recognized Jasper instantly from the past. From last night.

Ingrid has worn heavy makeup then. Now, she could only hope he wouldn't recognize her.

"Hey, it's you."

Surrounded by admiration, Jasper suddenly locked eyes with her.

But Ingrid didn't dare lift her head, but she could feel the weight of countless gazes turning toward her. When she finally looked up, she met his eyes directly.

Chapter 2 Back Again So Soon

Aside from Jasper, there were over a hundred pairs of eyes in the meeting room. In that instant, Ingrid imagined a scale in her mind—on one side, the option to deny everything, and on the other, her resignation letter.

If Jasper were to mention her actively approaching him at the nightclub last night…

"Two days ago, during the afternoon accident on Cleris Lane, I saw you at the scene helping people," Jasper suddenly spoke.

Ingrid's heart skipped a beat, but she remained silent.

Ainsley interjected, "Is that so? The ambulance services come from several public hospitals. Peaceheart doesn't handle this type of emergency care."

Jasper replied, "She was just passing by. When someone had a leg injury and their family tried to move them, she stepped in to help. I could tell right away she was a professional, definitely from orthopedics. I didn't realize she worked here."

Ainsley chuckled. "What a coincidence."

Lilliane added, "Ingrid's skills are exceptional, and she's very kind-hearted."

Ainsley nodded in agreement. "Such good deeds should be recognized."

Peaceheart's orthopedic department was vast, and Ainsley couldn't possibly know every staff member, especially in such a large meeting. This was a rare opportunity for someone to stand out.

Especially with the competition for the head nurse position, some of Ingrid's competitors must have been seething inside, though they wore calm faces.

Ingrid snapped out of her thoughts and replied, "I was just passing by."

Jasper smiled. "People pass by all the time, but good deeds should still be recognized."

Ingrid didn't know how to respond. She couldn't even look Jasper in the eye. Who would've thought that a one-night fling would turn into a colleague?

She had hoped never to see him again, yet here he was, now an everyday part of her life. Her face flushed, and no one could guess what she was truly feeling—they all assumed she was just shy from the compliment.

Brandon thought the same. He had worked with Ingrid for six or seven years and knew she wasn't one to wear her emotions on her sleeve. He only ever saw her blush when they were alone.

Ainsley seemed pleased. "Peaceheart doesn't just have excellent doctors, we also have an outstanding nursing team. It's my honor to work with all of you.

"Today, we're here to officially welcome Dr. Clifford. I won't take up more of your time. Please feel free to take a break when you can."

Ingrid was eager to leave, but as she was about to slip away, she overheard Ainsley whispering to Lilliane.

"Ingrid," Lilliane called her.

Ingrid froze.

She continued, "Please show Dr. Clifford around our orthopedic department."

Ingrid glanced at the many eyes watching her. Despite a thousand objections in her mind, she couldn't refuse Jasper's polite request, especially with him smiling so openly. "Sorry for the trouble," Jasper said.

She forced a smile. "It's my pleasure, Dr. Clifford."

As everyone started to leave, Brandon suddenly walked over to Ingrid. She was taken aback. He never approached her in public. As she hesitated, he spoke, "Long time no see."

Ingrid was puzzled. Brandon was addressing Jasper, who stood next to her.

Jasper smiled faintly. "Yes, we didn't have a chance to greet each other earlier in the operating room."

Brandon asked, "What made you decide to return?"

Jasper replied, "Sophie asked me to return. How could I refuse?"

Everyone at York Medical University knew about Sophie Hill. Even those who weren't alumni had heard of her—she was the mayor's daughter and the wife to the owner of Peaceheart.

But what truly piqued Ingrid's interest was that Brandon and Jasper knew each other—and it seemed they had known each other for many years.

Caught between them, she interjected, "Dr. Clifford, you and Mr. Geppard can continue your conversation. I'll…"

Jasper cut her off. "We are done." He looked at Brandon and added, "I'll be leaving now."

Jasper walked with Ingrid. Then, he spoke softly, "Sorry to take up your time."

Ingrid replied, "No problem."

Jasper continued, "I don't have any friends in orthopedics here yet, so I'll need you to show me around."

They had only taken a few steps when she realized Brandon could probably hear them. She smiled awkwardly. "It's nothing."

Jasper smiled again. "You're my first friend here."

Ingrid forced a smile, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Her skin seemed to burn under the weight of his words. Brandon watched her retreating figure.

Chapter 3 Avoiding Conflicts

Ingrid reluctantly accompanied Jasper. Though they were walking side by side, there was still room for another person between them. She felt guilty and constantly worried that he might suddenly bring up what happened the night before when they were alone.

But after 40 minutes, Jasper didn't mention anything, as if their only encounter had been that brief meeting. The one where she was fully clothed.

When they were done, Jasper was polite and courteous as always. "Thank you for showing me around for so long. You should get back to work now. I hope I didn't keep you too long."

Ingrid replied, "Welcome to Peaceheart again, Dr. Clifford. I would count on you for any questions about work in the future."

Jasper smiled. "You're the senior here. I'll be counting on you in the future."

Ingrid wasn't sure if he was teasing her. After all, it was rare for a doctor to rely on a nurse for guidance. Especially since Jasper had a face that didn't inspire much trust in patients—not handsome, but rather a bit of a rogue look.

That was probably why she had immediately pegged him as a playboy last night, only to find out he was a doctor—and a highly skilled one at orthopedics.

She smiled and nodded, while she was still processing everything. Watching him leave, a sense of unease settled in her heart.

She couldn't figure out what was in his mind. Did he not recognize her? Or, did he want to avoid acknowledging what happened? But if that was the case, why had he brought up the accident on Cleris Lane?

She stood there, and someone walked past her from behind without stopping. It was Brandon.

Ingrid frowned. If running into Jasper was fate, seeing Brandon was bad luck. She must have done something terribly wrong in her past life to have both of her ex-flings turn into colleagues.

Back at the nurse's station, she was immediately surrounded by a group of nurses. All of them were eager to know about Jasper.

"Does Dr. Clifford have a girlfriend?"

Ingrid replied, "What? In just a few minutes, do you think we've become best friends, and I'm giving him relationship advice?"

"Is Dr. Clifford here for a permanent position or just temporarily?"

Ingrid responded, "I suggest you ask Dr. Zimmerman."

"I saw Mr. Geppard and Dr. Clifford talking. Are they friends?"

Ingrid knew the answer to this one, but she shrugged and said, "I don't know."

"After spending so much time with Dr. Clifford, what did you talk about?"

Ingrid deadpanned, "I told him about the single ladies in the department."

"Really?" they gasped.

Ingrid sighed and walked away. Peaceheart had a rotating three-shift schedule—three days shift, one evening shift, and one night shift, with two days off.

Unlike public hospitals, where the schedule was strict, Peaceheart allowed nurses to choose which shifts to work.

Since the pay was the same, no one liked the night shifts from midnight to 8:00 a.m. Ingrid, however, applied for the night shift after a day shift, and there was only one reason for it.

Brandon had been promoted to department deputy head and only had one night shift a month. If she couldn't avoid seeing him, she would at least try to see him less.

However, her decision unintentionally triggered the jealousy of other nurses competing for the head nurse position.

They gossiped about her behind her back. "Who's she trying to impress? I've never seen anyone so eager to work the night shift unless it's for Dr. Zimmerman's attention."

"She's wearing her intentions on her sleeve—obviously trying to get noticed."

"Disgusting. She knows I'm pregnant and can't stay up late."

"My son is only one year old, and she's clearly trying to make us both look bad."

"No wonder she's nearly 30 and still single. What good will becoming a head nurse do her?"

No wall was thick enough to keep these whispers from reaching Ingrid's ears, but she didn't care much.

What did marriage mean, anyway? She had witnessed a pregnant colleague's husband leaving a hotel with another woman.

What good was a boyfriend? Her supposed "boyfriend" could easily be someone else's. Her pregnant colleague, sitting next to her, was on the phone with her husband who was doting on her over the line.

Ingrid didn't even have to doubt it—her colleague's husband was definitely enjoying himself, and there was no need for any excuses about not coming home.

The buzzer on her call light flashed. Someone was calling for help. Her colleague ignored it, and Ingrid quickly answered. "Hello, what can I help you with?"

"Come over here."

"Okay. I'll be right there."

Ingrid hurried to the VIP room, knocked, and entered.

The man with a leg injury was lying on the bed. "I need to go to the bathroom. Can you help me?"

Ingrid said, "I'll call one of my male colleagues to help."

The man replied, "Can't you do it?"

Ingrid hesitated. "I can only help you to the bathroom door. I'm afraid you might have trouble inside…"

He insisted, "Just help me sit up if you can't, then call someone else."

Ingrid approached and lifted the blanket. She noticed the man was fully undressed from the waist down. She quickly pulled the blanket back over him.

Chapter 4 He's Not My Boyfriend

Whether it was a public or private hospital, weirdos came in all shapes and sizes—with or without money didn't make a difference. In fact, the wealthier they were, the more reckless they seemed to become.

Ingrid was one of the first nurses hired by Peaceheart. Over the past six or seven years, she had witnessed her fair share of incidents—male patients harassing female staff and female patients chasing after male doctors.

However, the most common by far were nurses taking advantage of the situation to get close to patients. Some ended up in relationships, some in secret affairs, and one or two ended in marriage.

At first, Ingrid would be shocked, but she learned to keep her composure. After all, she had seen it all. When this particular patient spoke, she quickly recovered her professionalism.

"You have an injury on your leg, and it's difficult to wear pants. I'll get someone to help you."

The man didn't seem phased. His eyes stayed glued to her as he said, "You help me put them on."

Ingrid responded calmly, "We have male colleagues on night shifts…"

The man interrupted and wore a half-smile on his face. "I like you. Is it that difficult?"

Ingrid suppressed her discomfort and kept a neutral expression. "Sorry, but there are hospital rules. I'll call someone right now…"

The man quickly asked, "How much do you make in a month?"

Ingrid, unfazed, answered, "I have a boyfriend."

"How much does he make?" The man didn't blink.

Ingrid remained silent, and the man smirked. "Make an offer. I like you, and I won't haggle."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" Ingrid asked coldly.

"I have several friends who found nurses here. You could ask them how much they charge. I'm not trying to rip you off."

Ingrid maintained her professionalism and responded, "If you're done, I'll be heading out."

As she turned to leave, the man's voice echoed behind her, "There aren't many opportunities in life to improve your quality of life. Don't let your pride stop you. Pride doesn't pay the bills."

Without turning around, Ingrid left the room and shut the door behind her.

The next evening, the man rang the call bell. Ingrid sent a male colleague to respond. A few minutes later, her colleague came out. "He specifically requested you."

Those words made every nurse at the station look at her. Being chased by a patient, especially one rich or influential, wasn't exactly something that would ruin your day—it could even be flattering.

But it was always tricky if the feelings weren't mutual. It was great when things clicked naturally, but if the patient was being rejected, it could easily turn into an incident.

Ingrid was running for the head nurse position, and anything that could stir up rumors would work against her.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Ingrid stood up and walked toward the patient's room. As soon as she entered, the whispers began.

In the room, she greeted the man with a professional smile. "How can I assist you?"

The man lay back on the bed and cast a sideways glance at her. "Have you made up your mind yet?"

Ingrid didn't bother pretending anymore. She responded politely, "I appreciate your interest, but I've never been the type to pursue wealth. I'm perfectly content with my life as it is."

The man's offer came quickly. "A 100 thousand for one night, 1.5 million dollars for a month. You can choose."

Ingrid maintained her composure. "I'm afraid I can't choose."

The man smirked. "I don't usually pressure someone else, but I like you. I'm offering you this as an incentive."

Ingrid smiled back, keeping her voice steady. "I understand. You seem like someone who values rational decisions. I know being confirmed to a hospital bed must be frustrating and boring.

"If you need a change of environment, you can speak to Dr. Zimmerman. There are other places where you could recover."

The man stared at Ingrid. "To be honest, I'm just bored and wanted someone to kill time with. But if you despise money that much, maybe I'll try to win you over the old-fashioned way."

Ingrid responded, "I have a boyfriend."

The man scoffed. "Then have him come talk to me. I'm not backing down. I've got my eyes on you."

Ingrid wasn't about to stay in the room any longer. Every second spent there would add fuel to the rumors outside. She considered changing shifts to avoid seeing him, but the hospital wasn't hers to run.

If she switched shifts, people would gossip about her acting too high and mighty—she could do whatever she wanted without even being a head nurse yet. If she stayed on her shift, they would say she was flirting with the patients.

Sure enough, by the next day, the entire orthopedic department knew about the incident. Ingrid privately reported to Lilliane, and the response was exactly what she expected. She was told to avoid unnecessary conflicts with patients during the head nurse election.

Ingrid gritted her teeth and endured the tension for a week until the man was discharged. As she walked out of the orthopedic department, ready to breathe a sigh of relief, she was stopped by a car blocking her way.

The bodyguard insisted she get into the car, but she refused. The man in the car scowled. "Get her in here."

The bodyguard tried to force her into the car, but Ingrid was too proud to scream or make a scene. Her face immediately flushed with anger.

Just as things were about to escalate, a voice called out, "What's going on?"

Ingrid turned and recognized Brandon standing not far away. Brandon had heard about Ingrid being pursued by a patient and immediately recognized the man in the car as one of the VIP patients.

Brandon approached Ingrid with a tense expression. "Come with me."

The man lowered the car window and called out, "Are you her boyfriend?"

Brandon didn't respond and was determined to leave with Ingrid. But the bodyguard blocked his way.

"If you're her boyfriend, come and talk to me. If not, stay out of it. Don't make trouble for yourself," the man said.

Brandon turned around and shot back coldly, "Do you want me to report the police?"

The man scoffed. "I'm pursuing Ingrid, and that's none of your business. Unless you're pursuing her too, stay out of it. Otherwise, I'll hurt you so badly that you end up hospitalized in orthopedics."

Brandon pulled out his phone, ready to call for help, but the bodyguard was quicker. He grabbed the phone and handed it to the man.

Without a second thought, the man tossed the phone into a nearby fountain.

Brandon was furious, and his face turned red. "Y-You!"

"Please go ahead," Ingrid said suddenly, her voice calm and unbothered. "I'll retrieve your phone for you. If it's broken, I'll buy you a new one."

Brandon frowned, feeling confused. Ingrid didn't care about the phone. She just didn't want to drag him into this mess. He wasn't her boyfriend after all.

Chapter 5 I Can Be Her Boyfriend

The tension was palpable, and at the same time, a silver-gray Lamborghini Urus pulled up beside the group. Jasper stepped out of the car and casually greeted Ingrid.

"Good morning."

Trying to suppress the heaviness in her chest, Ingrid nodded. "Dr. Clifford."

Jasper asked, "What are you all standing around for? Why don't you go up?"

Ingrid replied, "I just finished my shift. You and Mr. Geppard should go ahead."

No sooner had she spoken than neither Jasper nor Brandon moved. The scene was suffocating, not just awkward.

Jasper glanced at the man in the Mercedes G-Class and asked, "Your friend?"

Ingrid responded, "No."

Jasper continued, "If you're not in a hurry, come with me for a bit. I need to talk to you."

"She's in a hurry," came the voice from Mercedes, interrupting.

Jasper turned and smiled. "How's your leg? Is it feeling better?"

The man inside was momentarily taken aback and suppressed his response. After a brief pause, he said, "I'm looking for Ingrid. This doesn't concern you."

Jasper smirked. "Funny. I'm looking for her too."

The man sneered. "One after the other. I just said it—unless you're her boyfriend, stay out of it."

Ingrid was about to intervene, but Jasper beat her to it. "If that's what you're implying, then I could be her boyfriend. What are you going to do about it?"

Not only did Ingrid turn pale, but even Brandon's lips curled downward. The man in the car laughed out loud. "You've got more guts than that one," he said, referring to Brandon.

Brandon's face darkened. He snapped, "I suggest you not to act tough in the hospital. This is Peaceheart we're talking about!"

The man immediately wiped the smile off his face and stared at Brandon. "So what? Are you going to do something about it?"

Brandon, who had just been promoted to department deputy head, knew all too well that the city was full of influential people.

He didn't want to stir unnecessary trouble. The slightest hesitation could be seen as backing down, and here he was, hesitating for several seconds.

Ingrid couldn't stand it any longer. "Thank you, Mr. Geppard. Please head up."

The man in the car mocked, "He has no guts, yet he tried to play the hero. What else do you dare to use besides a scalpel…"

Before he could finish, Ingrid's eyes went wide. She tried to speak but she couldn't make a sound. Brandon was also stunned because, from just a few feet away, Jasper suddenly reached into the car and grabbed the man by the hair.

He pulled the man's head out of the car and slammed it hard against the window frame. The loud bang was followed by the sickening crack of a dislocated bone.

The bodyguard was only a few feet away, but he was too slow to react to Jasper's swift motion. Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

By the time the bodyguard rushed to the man, Jasper released his grip, and the man's neck hung limply, his head drooping against the car door.

There was no blood. The man wasn't dead, but his face was ashen, and his eyes widened with fear. The bodyguard was too stunned to make a move.

Jasper looked at the man and said in a sincere tone, "You've got a cervical dislocation now. You can have your bodyguard call the police. I've assaulted you, and this injury could get me detained for seven to 15 days."

The man's gaze turned to the bodyguard, who had just pulled out his phone.

Jasper continued in a calm, measured voice, "But when the police come, make sure they handle you carefully. If you end up with a spinal fracture, you'll be paralyzed from the chest down. Not even a god could save you."

The bodyguard froze and glanced at the pale man.

Jasper urged, "Call the police now. Don't waste time. If he hangs like this for another 15 minutes, his vertebrae will fracture." To make sure they understood, he added kindly, "Oh, that means paralysis."

The man was now stuck—he couldn't move, but he also couldn't stay still. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and he dared not take a deep breath. He gasped, "Help me."

Jasper turned to the bodyguard. "He's talking to you."

The bodyguard wasn't blind. The man was clearly talking to Jasper.

Jasper stood still, completely unfazed, showing no fear of the police or of causing anyone's death. His relaxed demeanor made him seem like a well-dressed psychopath.

The man, terrified, realized he didn't want to argue with a madman and immediately surrendered, "I won't disturb Ingrid again. Doctor, please save me."

Jasper instantly switched to a caring expression. "Don't worry. Mr. Geppard is a cervical spine expert. He'll help you."

Brandon was rendered speechless.