The Heart System

Chapter 227: Chapter 227

Who knew a company would have its own medical team?

I sat on the examination bed, legs dangling slightly while a nurse dabbed some antiseptic across my shoulder. The sting made me grit my teeth. The room itself looked more like a mini–clinic than some corporate first-aid closet. Bright, white LED lights hummed overhead, illuminating everything with that sterile, too-clean glow. Cabinets lined the walls—glass-fronted ones filled with neatly labeled supplies, bandages, alcohol wipes, sealed syringes. The smell of disinfectant hung thick in the air.

A heart-rate monitor blinked idle beside me, reflecting faint green light across the metal countertop. A rolling medical cart sat next to the nurse, filled with gauze, wraps, little metal tools clinking every time she reached for one.

And standing a few feet behind her—arms crossed, posture stiff, eyes dark with worry—was Nala. She didn’t blink, didn’t look away. She watched every move the nurse made like she was making sure no one dared hurt me further.

“I’m really okay, Nala,” I said. “You can go.”

“No way.” Her voice was firm, absolute.

I sighed, slumping my shoulders just a little—then hissed when the nurse pressed the gauze down harder than expected. “God… shit.”

Nala’s jaw tightened. She bit her lower lip—not out of worry, but pure anger. “This damn mole…”

“How’s the lockdown going?” I asked through clenched teeth. “You manage to count the workers?”

“Nothing will come from that,” she muttered, eyes staying on the nurse’s hands. “There were twenty-five people on break. And eighty-two that were out for lunch.”

“Fuck,” I said, rubbing my forehead with my uninjured hand. “I really thought something might’ve come from that.”

“Yeah…” she whispered, frustrated.

“At least we know how the culprit got to the security room,” I said. “He used that ventilation system.”

Nala nodded slowly. “He crawled through, grabbed his phone, then leaked whatever information he learned today. Then I’m guessing he doubled back to drop the phone off so no one would notice it was missing.”

“That’s when I caught him,” I said. “He probably couldn’t go back into the vent because he knew the ladder would make noise.”

“It’s good,” Nala said softly. “He panicked and ran. At least he didn’t wait in the stall and let you walk away. If he got the jump on you…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes shifted downward.

“Hmm. He’s an amateur anyway.”

“It’s done,” the nurse finally announced. She peeled the gloves off with a snap. “Your shoulder won’t scar. As for your hands—avoid using them too much for a day or two, Mr. Marlowe.”

“Right. Thank you.”

I stood, slowly, groaning at the pull in my shoulder. I grabbed my jacket, but before I could slip it on, Nala stepped in front of me, took it gently from my hand, and helped me into it. Her fingers brushed my arms, careful, almost delicate compared to her usual confidence. I rolled my shoulder—sharp sting, but nothing I couldn’t handle—and exhaled.

“I knew I shouldn’t have skipped P.E.’s rope climbing back in high school,” I said with a weak laugh.

Nala didn’t laugh. Instead, she turned to the nurse. “Is he really going to be okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry, Ms. Nolin,” the nurse replied with a small smile. “He’ll be just fine.”

We stepped out of the room together, the door clicking shut behind us.

The hallway outside had changed since earlier—it felt heavier, thicker with tension. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly, casting everyone in a pale, uneasy glow. Employees walked past in hurried steps, their faces tight with stress, their shoulders hunched. No one spoke. Not a word. The usual office chatter was gone, replaced by the eerie silence of a place on edge.

Two security guards stood at opposite ends of the hallway, watching everyone closely. Their hands hovered near their belts, brows furrowed, swapping looks that said they were just as stressed as the workers.

I reached out and pressed the elevator button. The metal panel clicked, a faint glow lighting up under my finger.

We stood there in silence, waiting, the tension settling over us like fog.

You could practically hear hearts beating in that hallway.

“Everyone’s on their toes, huh?” I asked.

“They are.” Nala adjusted her ponytail with a tired sigh. “And for a good reason. What you went through… it scared them.”

“It scared me too,” I muttered. “Thank God he didn’t have any weapons.”

“Mhm.”

The elevator dinged open, and we walked in. She pressed the ground floor, and the soft music started playing. Kind of unfitting for everything going on. Nala turned toward the mirror, trying to fix her hair and smooth down her pencil skirt. Her ponytail was half falling apart and she looked exhausted. All the stress and running around was dragging her down.

Then she looked at me through the mirror—eyes worried, almost studying me. I didn’t realize she’d been watching until I tilted my head and caught her gaze. I just smiled and threw a peace sign at her reflection.

“You’re not shaken at all,” she said. “If I were you, I’d be… traumatized right now.”

“Hey, I grew up in some shitty neighborhoods,” I said. “I’m used to this kind of crap. What I’m not used to is all this—moles, corporate bullshit, secret projects.”

Nala chuckled. “Corporate bullshit, huh?”

“Yup. That’s even scarier.”

The doors opened and we walked out. Nala slowed down halfway across the lobby, taking a long breath. The entrance was locked; two security guards were blocking it. Workers standing behind them were arguing and complaining that they couldn’t leave. The guards weren’t budging.

“You earned a break,” Nala said, turning to me. “Can you drive home safely?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” I said. “I think I’ll just go lie down.”

She leaned toward my ear. “And have some fun with our maid?”

I shook my head. “Nah. I’m actually gonna lie down. Like, die on the bed type of lying down.”

She laughed under her breath and signaled the security guards. They immediately understood, stepped aside, and unlocked the door just for me. A few workers tried to slip out behind me, but the guards blocked them again.

“I’m off, then,” I said. “Be safe, Nala.”

“You too,” she replied softly. “See you at home.”

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I pushed open the penthouse door and stepped inside. The whole place was silent; no heels clicking on the marble, no music, no voices. Everyone was still at the office. I kicked my shoes off by the entrance, tossed my keys into the bowl on the console table, and headed straight for the kitchen.

I opened the fridge, grabbed a cold beer from the door shelf, twisted the cap off, and took a long pull. The chill felt perfect after the day I’d had. I carried the bottle with me, set it on the dining table, and wandered down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

Minne’s door was cracked open about six inches, soft light spilling out.

I nudged it wider and looked in.

Holy fuck.

Minne was lying completely naked on top of her covers, knees bent and spread wide, one hand working slow circles over her clit while the other was at her mouth, two fingers sliding in and out between her lips as she sucked on them shyly. Her eyes were closed, cheeks bright pink, little muffled whimpers slipping out every time her fingers pressed a little harder.

“Well, well,” I said quietly, leaning against the doorframe. “I thought our maid was supposed to be working.”

Her eyes snapped open. She froze, face going scarlet in half a second, and yanked both hands away like she’d touched a hot stove. “M-Master! I—I thought the apartment was empty—”

I stepped inside, closed the door softly behind me, and crossed the room before she could grab a blanket. I caught her wrist gently, guided her back down onto the mattress, and eased her knees apart again.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” I settled between her thighs, drinking in the sight of her flushed, glistening pussy—so pink, so wet, so damn cute. “Look at you. You’re soaked. Were you thinking about me?”

She bit her lip, gave the tiniest nod, voice barely a whisper. “Y-yes, Master…”

“That’s my good girl.”

I leaned down and dragged my tongue slowly up her slit, tasting her sweetness. She jolted, a soft cry escaping her lips. I did it again, slower this time, parting her folds with the flat of my tongue before circling her entrance and flicking up to her clit. She was trembling already.

Her hands flew back to her mouth, sucking on those two fingers again, trying so hard to stay quiet. I let her. I sealed my lips around her clit and sucked gently, then a little harder, fluttering my tongue in quick flicks. Her thighs shook against my shoulders.

I slid one finger inside her—tight, hot, dripping—and curled it upward, stroking that perfect spot that made her back arch off the bed. She whimpered around her fingers, hips lifting toward my mouth.

I added a second finger, scissoring slowly, stretching her while my tongue kept circling her clit in steady, wet strokes. My free hand slid up her stomach, cupped one small breast, rolled her nipple between my fingers until it stood stiff and needy.

“You’re so pretty like this,” I murmured against her, letting my breath tease her clit. “So wet for your Master.”

She moaned, muffled and shy, rocking into my mouth. I licked faster, sucked harder, matching the rhythm of my curling fingers. Her walls fluttered around me, thighs trembling harder.

I pulled back just long enough to blow a cool stream of air over her clit and watched her squirm. “Let me hear you, baby. Don’t hide those sweet sounds.”

Minne pulled her fingers from her mouth with a soft, wet pop, both hands clutching the sheets instead. “Please… please don’t stop, Master…”

I didn’t.