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Trapped By The President's Dangerous Secret

Chapter 2 

Word Count: 586    |    Released on: 13/05/2026

e double doors of the

blood mixed with bleach hit the b

ea. They didn't draw weapons, but their tactical positioning effectively isolated

but a thick arm slammed across he

l ID badge, her voice s

! Let me throu

ven blink, standin

agent's arm and torso, Ana

as standi

one, and his crisp white shirt

ming at the

s gaze to the o

ven years old, lay th

lifeless face, a violent sp

ungs

ical ache of familiari

sweating through his scrubs, scream

d down the hall, his v

blood type

st by the collar of his lab co

the national

r choked

istered donors in the entire

o the boy's bed let out

pressure w

te's eyes turned a

f a powerful man break

-null', and a loud ring

ed her own m

he agent blocking her path, for

rabbed her arm and wrenched it behind her back, while the other used his body

nds in the air,

Rh-nul

auma room wen

the mechanical hiss

ead snapped

yes hardened into sh

he computer terminal, typing

icon flashed

the truth!" the

tance between them in

wallowed her

e ordered, his voice

, remembering the humiliation in

back, avoiding h

d her eye

't feel like cooperating with an ar

rses g

drawing their weapons and

ed so hard a muscle

do you

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Trapped By The President's Dangerous Secret
Trapped By The President's Dangerous Secret
“I was just a urologist trying to survive my first solo VIP consult. The patient was an arrogant, terrifying man who refused a basic exam. But an hour later, I was in the ER, watching his seven-year-old son bleed out on the operating table. The boy had the rarest blood type in the world-Rh-null. And so did I. I gave my blood to save the kid, thinking that would be the end of it. I was completely wrong. The terrifying VIP was Auguste Raymond, the President of the United States. Because the traumatized First Son woke up crying for me, the White House didn't just thank me. They took me. My own mentor blackmailed me with my mother's nursing home fees, threatening to cut off her medical funding if I didn't comply. The Secret Service shoved me into a black SUV, confiscated my phone, and forced me to sign a strict NDA. I was stripped of my medical career and locked inside the West Wing. I gave my blood to save his only son, and in return, the President made me his prisoner. Standing in the Oval Office, facing the most powerful man in the free world, I realized my normal life was over. "Your medical duties are suspended indefinitely. You are nothing but a nanny now," he ordered coldly. I looked at the encrypted burner phone they handed me, typed a single text, and accepted my golden cage. "I'm in."”