Beyoncé is Shawn's biggest puzzle. As a brilliant chief of neurosurgery, his mind and feelings go berserk when he meets the sweet 23 year old. The moment her case lands on his desk, Shawn sets up a goal: solving this girl's mystery. What she doesn't...
Hennessy. A drink that brings the demon out of me. Or the angel. It depends on how you want to view it. Lucifer was an angel before he fell into the depths of hell. So you can consider me an angel or a demon, the term doesn't matter. The power defines me. My power. I am the happy owner of the so-called 'je ne sais quoi' and that makes me unstoppable. I am charming, smart, not Albert Einstein smart, although I can put two and two together since I am the Chief of Neurosurgery at the Gloria Carter Hospital, where I also am head of the board and the owner of the medical institution. In a few words, I am the James Bond of the medical field.
The praise I receive is never-ending, people love to do one thing and that thing is talking. They think I am some type of God but I am nowhere near that, nor did I ever considered myself such an amazing being. If I were God, I could've saved my mom, found a cure, and give her the treatment, make her pain go away. That didn't happen since she was buried 7 feet below the ground. And it was all my fault. All my fellow peers had to take the same vow as me, make more or less the same decisions and they still choke on words when they meet me. Hearing how people would trade their lives for mine, how they would chop a leg or an arm off, or how they would sell their soul to the devil just to be in my shoes, it's more hypocrite than the news of a multimillionaire saying he will fly into space because his balls are covered in money. Pft. A waste of air these people.
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A ding brings my attention back to the laptop that is sitting in my lap. I'm still at my office and I was reading a paper about the latest rare neurological diseases discoveries. Nothing that can help me at the moment. Nothing will bring my mother back. I immediately shut down my line of thoughts since I don't want to get on that road again. I spent three years of my life trying to figure out her disease, even after she died. She was the sweetest person I have ever met, even in her latest days. I felt and still feel like a complete failure for not curing her or anyone that went through what she did. Experiments on rats, on people that were willing to try the medication, trials, more testing trials, at some point I even got the feds on my ass due to the big money I was spending on my medical facility. It got them thinking that I was a terrorist or something. But no, I was just an overqualified surgeon that was good for nothing. I didn't take a case since her death. Teaching everything that I know is the only way I can help people in this world, my way of giving back all that my mom did for me up until I grew up and I still didn't make up to 1% of what she had done. She worked several jobs, a single mother keeping a son safe and in line when there were violence and gangs around us, she supported me the best way she could. I was lucky to go to college on a scholarship and I graduated with honors, always staying at the top of my class, even when I entered medical school. When my ability of maneuvering things got the attention of the most prestigious doctors, money started coming my way and the first thing I did was to spoil my mom. I had to make sure that she will not have to lift a finger for the rest of her life. She finally had the time to live her life, to get a decent boyfriend even if I didn't approve of anyone since I was her son, you know. Money and fame were sleeping on my king-sized bed, but nothing prepared me for the tragic events that were about to unfold.
