Chapter 1

In a high-speed chase after a serial killer, my car crashed, and so did his.

The suspect walked away with a minor head wound. I was impaled by a piece of the car door, my life hanging by a thread.

When I was rushed to the hospital, my adoptive father, the hospital director, stopped the surgery.

He gave me a cold, dismissive glance. "He's lost too much blood. There's no point. Just send him to the crematorium."

Then, using his authority as my father, he signed the form to refuse treatment.

I begged him to save me, but he wouldn't budge.

"In my hospital, there are only patients, no criminals," he said, his voice like ice, as he directed all the medical resources to the suspect.

"He has a mild concussion. Do you know how dangerous that can be?"

Because that criminal was his biological son.

"Director, the patient is in critical condition. He needs emergency surgery, or he won't make it."

My adoptive father, Julian Vance, glanced at the monitor.

He listened to my chest with a stethoscope, then examined my wound.

"He's lost too much blood," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "There's no point in trying to save him."

The attending physician froze. "But… he still has a heartbeat and he's breathing. We can't just give up. It's against hospital policy."

"And if his family asks…"

"I am his family," Julian said calmly. "And I'm refusing treatment."

He picked up the consent form and, in front of the shocked staff, signed his name.

The doctors and nurses just stared at each other. The only sound in the room was the steady beep of the monitor.

I fought to stay conscious, using every last ounce of my strength to grab his white coat.

"Dad… please… save… me."

I didn't want to die. There was still so much I had to do.

I thought my plea would change his mind, the mind of the man who had raised me.

But it didn't.

He didn't even look at me. He just yanked his coat from my hand, his face twisting in disgust at the bloodstain I had left.

"Don't block the emergency access. Take him to the crematorium. I'll take full responsibility."

"The rest of you, come with me. We need to check on Corvan."

His cold words echoed in my ears, shattering the last of my hope.

As he walked away, I was filled with a bottomless despair.

Even the nurse beside me was outraged. "The man in the other room is a criminal! Even if he's saved, he'll just be executed! What is the director thinking?"

"Quiet! The man in the other room is the director's biological son."

Their words bounced around in my head. My heart turned to ice.

Corvan was his son. But wasn't I his son too?

So, in his heart, I was always an outsider.

Fifteen years together meant nothing.

I remembered when he was the only one in the family who supported my decision to go to the police academy.

He had told me that even though we weren't related by blood, he would always be my father, my safe harbor.

He was a doctor, dedicated to serving the people, and he hoped I would become a public servant too, earning my own honor.

But now, he was the one throwing my life away.

He had encouraged me to chase my dreams, and now he was extinguishing my only hope of survival.

He was willing to risk his decades-long reputation for this.

I was in the hospital, just steps away from the operating room.

But those few steps were an impossible distance.

The medical staff stood there, helpless.

They could only watch as I lay on the gurney, dying.

After Julian left, the attending physician hesitated, then sighed and walked away. The other staff followed.

But I wasn't ready to give up.

I could have lived.

I still had to bring Corvan to justice.

A desperate will to live surged through me. I looked at the remaining person in the room, another doctor in a white coat.

"I… I'm a cop. I still have work to do. Please… save… me."

I was losing too much blood. My consciousness was fading.

As the world went dark, the last thing I heard was a soft whisper: "I'm sorry."