Piss Off, Alpha! You Lost Me Forever-Chapter 35 The Lecture

SOPHIA’S POV

I stared at the lecture invitation on my phone. I had opened it so many times I already knew every detail by heart. The date. The time. The location.

I’d been debating all week whether to go. Part of me wanted to pretend the invitation didn’t exist. Another part of me ached to be in that room, to hear Professor Rio speak in person.

Ashley was with Tiffany for the weekend. That knowledge made me feel guilty. I hated that I felt

relieved. I told myself it was just because I finally had time to breathe, but deep down, I knew it

was more than that.

I felt empty without my daughter, but I also felt lighter knowing there would be no fights for two days.

I typed a message to Lance. “I’ll attend the lecture.”

His reply came almost instantly. “I’m really glad. I’ll pick you up Saturday morning if that’s

okay.”

I stared at the screen for a second, then typed back, “That’s fine. Thank you.”

Saturday came. I chose my outfit carefully. I didn’t want to look flashy but confident so I dressed like that.

Settling on a nice blue blouse and corporate pants with matching blue heels, I straightened my

hair neatly and then looked at myself in the mirror.

I smiled.

I looked good.

Stunning even.

Lance arrived right on time. As soon as I got in his car, he smiled at me.

“Ready?” He asked and swallowed a nervous smile. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“That’s a good sign,” he replied. “It means you care about this and you don’t want to fuck it up.”

As we drove through the city toward the medical university, Lance talked excitedly about

Professor Rio.

He told me how Rio pioneered three different heart surgery techniques, how his work changed transplant survival rates worldwide.

“He doesn’t do lectures like this anymore,” Lance said. “That’s why this is such a big deal.”

“I still can’t believe I get to hear him speak,” I said excitedly.

Lance glanced at me and smiled. “I’m glad you came.”

Lance was so easy to talk to. It surprised me most times There was no pressure. We were just

two doctors talking about medicine.

When we arrived at the campus, my breath caught.

The medical university looked amazing. The

place was huge. The place had marble columns rising high against the sky.

Doctors and medical professionals crowded the entrance. They were all dressed professionally.

They had leather notebooks in hand. I suddenly felt very small.

Lance placed a gentle hand on my back.

“You’re okay,” he said softly as if reading my thoughts.

Security checked our invitations and handed us name badges and program booklets.

Inside, the

lecture hall was massive, with tiered seating and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. At least

two hundred people filled the room.

I recognized faces I had only ever seen in journals and conferences.

We took seats in the fourth row and I arranged my notebook and pen carefully. I was reviewing the

program when I heard a voice that made my entire body go rigid.

Damien.

I looked up.

He was walking through the doors.

He wore a dark, expensive suit. His posture was confident and commanding.

Tiffany was beside him, her arm linked through his. She looked elegant in a designer dress. My heart began to pound painfully in my chest.

What were they doing here?

I lowered my head quickly, hiding behind my program booklet, hoping they wouldn’t notice me.

From behind the paper, I watched as Damien scanned the room. His presence was heavy with his

Alpha aura.

Even humans felt it, though they wouldn’t know why. Tiffany smiled brightly, greeting people like she belonged there.

They took seats in the VIP section at the front.

That’s when I heard a whisper behind me. “Is that Damien Stone? The Alpha?”

“Yes,” someone replied. “I heard he sponsored several attendees this year.”

I clenched my jaw. So that’s why he’s here.”

Just then Tiffany turned in her seat and her eyes scanned the room. When she spotted me, her expression shifted from shock to an evil smile. She leaned in and whispered something to Damien.

Slowly he turned and our eyes met across the lecture hall.

For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just us. I saw surprise in his eyes, then something I

couldn’t read.

My chest tightened and I looked away first.

Damien’s eyes shifted to Lance beside me. I didn’t need to look too much to know he was jealous. I felt it in the sudden pull in my chest.

Lance whispered, “Do you want to leave?”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m staying.”

The lights dimmed, and Professor Rio stepped onto the stage. He adjusted the microphone and looked around the lecture hall.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted. “I won’t waste time on introductions. Most of you already know my work.”

Everyone laughed.

Behind him a slide appeared. It showed the detailed image of a human heart. Then he began speaking.

He spoke about groundbreaking transplant techniques. I took notes.

My confidence grew with each slide. When he asked questions, I answered them silently in my head.

“Cardiac transplantation has evolved,” he continued. “But the problem has never been the surgery itself. The problem is timing, decision-making, knowing when to act and when to wait.”

He looked up from the screen.

“Tell me,” he said, “what is the biggest mistake young surgeons make when dealing with end-

stage heart failure?”

A few people shifted in their seats. One man raised his hand.

“They wait too long,” the man said.

Rio nodded slightly. “Correct. But why?”

The man hesitated. “Fear of complications.”

“Wrong,” Rio said calmly. “They wait too long because they hope medicine will fix what only

surgery can.”

Another slide appeared, showing a flow chart of organ failure progression.

“Hope is not a strategy,” he said. “Data is.”

He paced slowly across the stage.

“When the heart fails, the kidneys follow. When the kidneys fail, the liver follows. Once you see

rising creatinine and liver enzymes together, you are already late.”

I wrote his words down quickly.

Rio continued, “Now let’s talk about transplant eligibility. Who here believes age alone disqualifies a patient?”

A woman raised her hand. “Patients over sixty have poorer outcomes.”

“What are your primary concerns,” he asked, “and how do you prioritize intervention?”

Just a few hands shot up around the room. It was a question that everyone was confused about.

He scanned the audience. Then his finger pointed directly at me.

“You,” he said. “Blue blouse. Fourth row.”

I stilled.

The spotlight fell on me.

“The rising kidney and liver values suggest multi-organ dysfunction,” I cleared my throat and answered. “This indicates progression to stage D heart failure.”

Rio nodded o. “Go on.”

“The body’s compensatory mechanisms are failing,” I continued. “Medical management alone is

no longer sufficient.”

“What is your first priority?” Rio asked.

“Stabilizing organ function,” I said. “Specifically renal perfusion and hepatic congestion.”

“How?” he pressed.

“Careful adjustment of inotropes to improve cardiac output,” I replied. “Avoiding nephrotoxic drugs. Close monitoring of fluid balance.”

“And transplant status?”

“The patient’s priority should be reassessed immediately,” I said. “They may qualify for urgent

listing.”

Rio nodded again. “And if no donor becomes available?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Bridge-to-transplant therapy.”

Rio folded his arms. “Risks?”

“Infection,” I said. “Bleeding. Thromboembolism. But the risk is justified given the rapid

deterioration.”

Rio stared at me for a long moment then he smiled.

“That,” he said into the microphone, “is the correct answer”

The room erupted in applause.

I sat down quickly. Lance squeezed my hand, smiling at me.

I glanced toward the front row. Damien had turned fully around.

He stared at me like he had never seen me before.

He looked shocked. Then his face closed off and he turned back around.