Chapter 1

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You loved your job. You really did. But the last few weeks had taken their toll on you. Security at the hospital has reached an unprecedented high after the Dutton family was rushed to the hospital following the brutal attack on them. You knew the Dutton family held great power and influence in Montana and that there were certainly benefits to having a son as attorney general, but you doubted there were more than a handful of people who would be treated the same way.

As a neurosurgeon, you had nothing to do with their cases, but hospital gossip was inevitable, and so even you who weren't normally interested in such chatter learned a thing or two about the famous Dutton family.

You knew the youngest Dutton had sustained gunshot wounds but was released after a few days. Maybe a day or two earlier than would have been advisable, but at least within medical reason. The fact that he had stayed in the hospital for so long was mainly thanks to his wife and son, because without these two the former Navy SEAL would certainly have left the hospital much earlier and started looking for the perpetrators.

However, no one had that influence on his sister, even if the quiet, taciturn cowboy who never left her side did his best. And so it had come as no surprise to anyone that she had left the hospital much earlier than recommended, despite suffering third-degree burns over large parts of her body, leaving permanent scars.

Both were scarred for life - physical and emotional - but at least they had survived. You weren't sure if fate would be so kind to their father as well. It was a miracle he had survived at all. And waking up from the coma after two months was another one. It almost seemed as if the only thing that could kill John Dutton was the man himself. And he was well on his way there if he didn't finally follow the doctor's orders.

Everyone in the hospital was tense. If it wasn't the security guards then it was one of John Dutton's children causing the disturbance. Vacation requests and even transfer requests had piled up in the last few weeks in such a way that it was almost impossible to carry out the tasks normally. You've lived in Montana most of your life. And you, too, knew the name Dutton, but had completely underestimated its importance and had to admit that it was slowly but surely becoming ridiculous.

"Oliver, I swear to you, one more word and you will regret it."

"Please (Y/N), can't you look at him?"

You let out a frustrated sigh because hitting the CEO just wasn't an option. Didn't anyone realize that all the fuss was only making things worse? Everyone was so careful not to get in the line of fire that nothing, absolutely nothing, happened easily or without fuss anymore. Otherwise it would be impossible to explain why you, as a neurosurgeon, were needed to discharge a patient you have never seen before. But maybe Oliver was just afraid that your long-planned upcoming vacation would throw the hospital into complete chaos, so he wanted things to be sorted out beforehand. Or maybe he was just scared shitless because of John Dutton and his family.

It just seemed like your lucky day because apparently your CEO was trying to drive you insane. The security guards regularly drove you insane, because even when visiting a prison, the rules were certainly not that strict. Just coming to work had become completely unthinkable and it was getting on everyone's nerves that it had become a very time-consuming process. Ditto for the rest of the actual work when - no, if - you finally made it into the hospital. All too often the staff even shed a tear or two and the poor newbie who had tried to get too close to John Dutton with a needle was traumatized for life thanks to an overzealous security guard. Even the simplest of tasks, like putting on IVs, had become Herculean tasks.

And you didn't even want to start with the actual family. The subtle pressure - which wasn't so subtle - that the attorney general put on the hospital. And you might have thought a former Navy SEAL would be scary, but he was nothing compared to his sister. You haven't met either of them personally, but their reputations preceded them. The trauma they went through was incomprehensible, but terrorizing the people who did their best to help them and their father wasn't the smartest move in your book.

"Fine. I'll look at him after the operation. Satisfied?"

"Come on, you can postpone the operation..."

You didn't let Oliver continue. You knew his job involved a lot of ass kissing, but he was trying to cross a line that you would protect with everything you had.

"Oliver, I have a patient who needs me, really needs me. After the operation, Oliver, after the operation."

"Well, you're right, but..."

"There are no buts, Oliver. You know very well that none of my patients is more important than the other. And the one who's on his way to the operating room right now is the one who really needs me. Or, after two months, have you surprisingly discovered another bullet hole in Mr. Dutton that requires my expertise as a neurosurgeon?"

You didn't even wait for Oliver to continue the conversation. You just turned and stormed off. You hated the administrative aspects of your job and were grateful for people like Oliver. But in the last two months, you'd only seen two things in Oliver. On the one hand the fear, but also the opportunities and advantages that dealing with the Dutton family brought him - and yes, you meant him and not the hospital. And on the other side the good old money, the dollar signs you could see flashing in his eyes.

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