Hospital Debauchery

The morning sun slipped through the suite's towering windows, spilling soft gold across the room, warming the air and chasing away the last shadows of night.

Devon stirred slow in the massive bed, sheets tangled around his legs, body heavy like he'd been hauling bricks in his sleep. He'd spent all yesterday locked in the suite, lost deep in the VR world, running surgery sims one after another, each one a pulse-pounding race against the clock. Scalpels flashed in his mind, monitors screamed warnings, and every virtual stitch felt like life or death.

He hadn't even thought about stepping outside, not once. The suite was his sanctuary, all plush comfort with that killer view of Lake Geneva stretching endless, boats gliding lazy across the water like they had nowhere to be. The system had him hooked, those digital ORs so real his heart pounded, hands steady but mind racing, chasing faster times, cleaner cuts. His eyes stung now, gritty from staring into the virtual glow, shoulders knotted tight from hours hunched in focus.

Only thing that broke his trance was the door, soft knocks pulling him back to reality. Breakfast came first, a cart rolled in by a young guy in a crisp white uniform, his smile polite but quick as he set up the spread on the dining table. Croissants sat golden and warm, flaking apart at the touch, butter melting into them like liquid sunshine. A bowl overflowed with strawberries red as candy and blueberries dark and plump, popping sweet when he bit in, juice dribbling down his chin. Yogurt came thick and creamy, swirled with golden honey that caught the light, and the coffee poured black and steaming, its rich, nutty smell filling the room, waking him up proper.

He ate standing by the window, one hand holding a mug, eyes on the lake where sunlight sparkled off waves like scattered coins, his mind half on the food, half replaying how to solve that VR he had ran away from.

Time blurred in that calm, the fireplace let out little pops now and then, like a friend tapping your shoulder, waves outside lapped steady against the shore, a rhythm that soothed his nerves, and the city hummed faint through the thick glass, all lights and tiny lives moving below. He pushed till late, collapsing into bed bone-tired, the mattress so soft Morning hit again,and it was time to get ready, about an hour later a knock hit the door right then, sharp but not loud, pulling him over. He swung it open fast, catching Claudia with her hand up, frozen mid-knock, her face all calm and professional as always, silver hair tucked tight in that bun, navy blazer crisp as ever. Her eyes flicked over him quick,suit fitting like a glove, shoes spotless, the whole package screaming sharp and she gave a small nod, like he'd aced a silent test. "You're set for tonight, Dr Devon. The Car's waiting downstairs."

"Thanks," he said easy, stepping into the hall, the door clicking soft behind him. They moved together down the corridor, his strides relaxed next to her precise ones, and he couldn't help looking around, the security was jacked up high, way more intense than yesterday.

Guards were everywhere now, at least twice as many, maybe more, posted like statues at every turn. One by the elevator, eyes scanning steady, two guarding the stairs, another leaning casual but alert near a window, earpieces glinting under the lights.

Their dark suits blended into the fancy walls, but their stares cut through, tracking him without a flicker. Drones buzzed faster overhead, weaving tight patterns like they were on a mission, cameras spinning constant with soft whirs. The air felt alive with it, tense and electric, turning the plush hallway into something out of a heist movie.

"What's with the army?" he tossed at Claudia, half-grinning, keeping it light.

She didn't break stride, heels clicking steady as they hit the elevator button, a soft beep sounding. "Just today's setup. Everyday is a new setup, it always better to be ready than caught short. Yvonne doesn't take chances." Her tone stayed flat, closing the topic clean, no room for more.

The doors slid open with a gentle ding, and they stepped in. The lobby unfolded below, guests drifting in fancy dresses and suits, chandeliers sparkling like stars, piano music tinkling faint, but those guards wove through seamless, their eyes on him like quiet hawks, never obvious but always there.

Outside, the evening air hit fresh and cool, carrying the lake's clean scent mixed with whiffs of street vendors nearby, maybe roasted nuts or fresh crepes sizzling. The limo sat waiting, long and black, its body shining bright under the streetlamps like it'd been waxed an hour ago. Guards moved quick around it checking under the hood, sweeping gadgets along the sides, hands resting easy but close to their jackets, like they could spring any second.

Markus stood tall by the rear door, his big frame stretching his suit, earpiece tucked snug, a quick grin breaking his tough face like sunlight through stone. "Evening, sir. Ride's good to go, smooth all the way." He pulled the door open wide, and Devon gave him a nod, clapping his shoulder light as he slid onto the leather seats, soft and cool, molding instant to his back.

Claudia slipped in beside, her bag tucked neat, while Markus lumbered to the front, settling heavy next to the driver, who tipped a silent nod in the mirror.

The limo glided out, engine purring low and content, weaving through Geneva's evening glow. past shop windows lit bright with fancy watches ticking away, chocolates stacked like art, couples strolling cozy on cobbled paths, their laughter mixing with the hum of life. Old fountains splashed playful in little squares, water catching streetlight like jewels, the lake stretching left with boats bobbing, their lanterns glowing like fireflies against the dark water, mountains rising shadowy and grand in the distance.

Devon watched it all roll by, one arm resting easy on the door, mind turning over the heavy security, Yvonne's world feeling deeper, more tangled than he'd pegged. Claudia stayed quiet, tapping her phone now and then, the short drive wrapping in that calm vibe, city lights streaking soft through the tinted glass.

Le Cygne came up soon, nestled snug by the lake like a treasure, all soft curves and warm welcome.

The building glowed gentle ivory under subtle lights, silk curtains draping windows like flowing dreams, front doors frosted with swan etchings that shimmered delicate in the evening glow.

Stepping inside felt like sinking into peace, tables cloaked in snowy linens that fell smooth, silverware laid out gleaming but not flashy, slender vases of pale pink roses dotting surfaces, petals soft and fresh, their scent light and sweet in the air. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, delicate as lace, casting a warm, golden glow that softened every edge, no harshness anywhere.

The place stood empty, no servers rushing, no clink of glasses, just pure quiet, the whole restaurant shut down private, reserved just for him and Yvonne, like the world outside hit pause. Piano notes floated gentle from hidden speakers, melodies drifting airy and slow, blending with the faint crash of waves against the shore outside.

Candles burned steady in ornate wall holders, flames dancing lively, throwing playful shadows across the room, wide windows framing the lake's vast shimmer like a living artwork, the moon painting silver trails across the inky surface, stars faint but twinkling above.

Claudia led him through the silent dining room, their steps hushed on the thick rug, past empty chairs waiting patient, toward a tucked-away alcove, the VIP spot, small and intimate, a single table set by the panoramic glass, linen starched crisp, silver polished to a mirror shine, a lone rose standing elegant in a slim crystal vase.

Yvonne sat there poised, her blonde hair falling in loose, luminous waves that caught the candlelight like spun gold, red dress hugging her curves bold yet smooth, the kind of look that owned the room without trying.

She leaned in close, talking low and serious to a man across, middle-aged, built like a tank, muscles straining his tight shirt, face a roadmap of scars etched deep, telling stories of rough days. Tattoos sprawled dark across his skin, one twisting up his neck like a coiled vine, another slashing jagged over his cheek like frozen lightning, his eyes hard and focused as he listened to her.

Her gaze flicked up and caught Devon, and her whole face changed, lit up bright, a wide smile spreading warm and real, green eyes sparking with that mix of welcome and sly mischief. She lifted a hand graceful, giving the guy a quick wave-off, her fingers flicking like brushing away dust. He stood slow, towering a moment, all muscle and menace, dipped his head once sharp and silent, then slipped into the dim restaurant, brushing past Devon close enough to feel the air shift but saying nothing, vanishing like a shadow into the quiet.

Claudia didn't hang around. "Have a good evening," she said simple, her glance quick but sure, like everything was in place, then turned, heels tapping soft till they faded, leaving the alcove to just the two of them.

Devon eased into the chair across from Yvonne, wood creaking faint under him, the table small enough their knees grazed light beneath the cloth, sending a tiny jolt through the air, unspoken but there. Her scent drifted over, warm vanilla with a floral twist, blending seamless with the roses sweetness.

Their eyes locked steady, her vivid green holding his warm firm, like a quiet test of who'd blink first, the atmosphere charging slow with that unspoken pull, piano notes weaving around them like a soft spell. Candles flickered close, casting a glow over her high cheekbones, the gentle curve of her lips, her skin catching the light perfect.

She leaned forward a hair, breaking the stare with her voice smooth and inviting. "Devon, it's good to see you again. You look really good tonight." Her eyes traced his suit slow, appreciative with a tease edge, then locked back on his. "If you don't mind I have a question for you. When was the last time you spoke with your dad?"