Carlos was already tired of those long hours of surgery. It was exhausting all the pressure to save the patient's life, especially having to share the operating room with his ex-boyfriend, Lucas, who was next to his new boyfriend.

He was an excellent doctor and surgeon. Carlos had tried several times to change hospitals to avoid meeting Lucas, his ex-boyfriend, who was also a doctor and now paraded through the corridors with his new boyfriend, who was also a doctor. However, Carlos always changed his mind when his colleagues begged him to stay.

After several hours, the surgery finally came to an end.

"Please finish," Carlos said to an assistant.

Carlos handed the suturing part to a team member and wished to leave as soon as possible. He left the operating room, encountering the patient's family.

"The surgery went well. He will be kept in the ICU for approximately twenty-four hours and then be transferred to a room," he explained to the family.

While bidding farewell to the family, Carlos saw Lucas and his boyfriend also leaving the room. He politely waved to the patient's family, then headed to another room to change clothes.

Carlos followed behind them and discreetly observed the smiles they exchanged and the occasional touches on each other's arms. He wondered why he tortured himself so much by doing so.

"Why are you staring at that? Are you a masochist?" He heard the voice of his nurse friend, Nina, who snapped him out of his thoughts.

Carlos, confused, replied, "What?"

Nina approached and explained, smiling, "You seem like a masochist, why do you keep watching those two?"

Carlos sighed. "I don't know, Nina. I can't help it."

"If you weren't gay, I would volunteer to make you forget about him. You know what you need? Find a muscular man, well... you know what, to forget about that idiot quickly," Nina said bluntly, trying all ways to help her friend get over his ex. Carlos shook his head, smiling, and once again glanced at the two as they turned the corner, remembering Lucas' words.

"I tried, but you're too passive for me. I'm not talking about our positions, but you're too obedient, you don't take risks, you don't do anything impulsive. I'm different, I want someone with a firm hand, someone more aggressive, so to speak. You're a great guy, but you're not the type of guy I'm looking for. It's no use being with you just to avoid hurting you by ending it. But I have to think about myself too. I'm sorry."

Lucas' words from when he left Carlos' house after the discovery of the betrayal still echoed in his mind. Was he that predictable? Too obedient and perhaps monotonous in bed? Was not liking to take risks and preferring to keep everything under control really a bad thing?

Carlos was eager to change clothes and go home; his shift had ended, and he just wanted to take a relaxing shower. He said goodbye to Nina and went to the locker room, where he changed clothes, then returned to his office to collect his belongings before leaving. It was already midnight, and he had performed several surgeries that day. As he headed towards the reception, he noticed an unusual commotion.

Carlos heard screams and noticed that armed men had entered the facility, bringing with them three injured men. They pointed a gun at Nina and asked where the doctor was. Carlos realized that his peaceful night was ruined.

"I am a doctor," he said, drawing the attention of the men and pulling them away from his friend. He was apprehensive but couldn't show his fear.

One of the men approached, pointed the gun at him, and ordered him to save the life of the man in front of him, while Carlos struggled to remain calm. The man in front of him requested that other doctors be called. At that moment, Lucas and his boyfriend also appeared in the reception, drawn by the noises, and had guns pointed at their heads.

Carlos didn't want to talk to them, but he had no choice.

"Take care of these two patients, while I attend to this one," he said to Lucas and his boyfriend, then turning to the armed man, he added, "Take the other two wherever the doctors indicate, and you follow me."

Carlos acted quickly, without waiting for questions from the man in front of him. He turned and began to walk, realizing that the man was following him.

"Put him on the stretcher," Carlos ordered, grabbing gloves to examine the patient, while two other armed men watched from the room.

Carlos opened the shirt of the man lying on the stretcher. He was young, probably the same age as himself, and his body was covered in tattoos. The patient was conscious and seemed to be in a great deal of pain.

"The bullet didn't go through, I need to remove it. It would be better to take him to the operating room."

The man on the stretcher looked at Carlos strangely and immediately responded, "Doctor, don't put me to sleep. Just take this damn bullet out of my shoulder right here. It's not the first time, I can handle it."

Carlos was surprised to hear what the man said. Was there really someone brave enough not to want to be anesthetized in a hospital and go through a painful procedure while conscious?

"It's going to hurt a lot," Carlos still tried to convince him.

The armed man who was standing nearby approached closer and spoke directly, "We can't risk someone finding us and him being unconscious. You have no idea who you're dealing with, doctor. So, just do your job, remove the bullet, and don't you dare let him die," he said, finishing the sentence close to Carlos's ear.

Carlos had sworn to save lives, and it didn't matter if it was a criminal; it was still a life. He handed the man a towel to bite on when the pain became unbearable.

He gathered everything he needed, cut the man's shirt, and began to clean the wound to locate the bullet. Then, he used tweezers to try and remove the projectile, which was lodged in the right shoulder and hadn't hit anything vital.

"Hold him down so he doesn't interfere with the procedure," Carlos told the brute who had brought him.

Carlos continued the procedure for a few minutes until he managed to extract the bullet. He performed all the necessary procedures and gave instructions for the dressing. With the help of his subordinate, the man on the stretcher sat up and faced Carlos, placing a hand on the doctor's face.

"I won't forget what you did today, doctor, and I won't forget this handsome face, even with the mask on," he said, giving a smirk, despite clearly being in pain. Then, he stood up with assistance, asked where he could find the other two wounded men, and left the room, leaving Carlos paralyzed with fear.

"Please forget, you don't need to remember my face," Carlos thought.

Carlos removed his gloves and mask, trying to calm his accelerated heartbeat caused by adrenaline. He didn't know what was happening in the other room, and he was worried about the other people in the hospital. Although he didn't want to admit it, his greatest concern was Lucas.

He left the room and headed towards where the others were. He could hear raised voices, and the man who previously had a gun pointed at him now held Lucas by the collar. Carlos guessed that the other man hadn't survived. Lucas tried to intervene but was pushed by one of the other armed men.

"Your friend has lost a lot of blood. Judging by the state of his clothes, I imagine it wasn't just one bullet. If the bullet hit a vital organ, it would be difficult to save him," Carlos explained.

He intervened, drawing the attention of the man he had previously treated. The man turned to him and approached.

"Do you trust his skills, doctor?" The criminal asked the question and turned to face the man who was still being held.

Internally, Carlos felt satisfaction at seeing the man being intimidated, but he knew he couldn't let the situation become too dangerous. He was aware that those men could kill him right there and he didn't want to be responsible for that. Carlos stared at the man and then looked at Lucas.

"Yes, I trust him," Carlos said confidently.

The thug in front of him stared at him again and smiled.

"Well, doctor, if you say so, I will consider it a coincidence."

He turned to his men, ordering them to release Lucas's boyfriend, and instructed others to take care of the deceased man and the injured man to remove them from the scene. Then, he turned back to Carlos.

"My name is Andrey Marastrove. Maybe you've heard my last name before. And yours, doctor?"

Carlos swallowed hard and looked away.

"My name is Carlos."

Andrey smiled and turned, leaving with his men. Slowly, the employees and patients began to move. Some were crying, others wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

Carlos pressed his forehead, feeling a slight headache settling in. He needed to go home and rest. He gathered his things and, this time, exited through the back, heading towards the parking lot.

Driving in the early morning, Carlos observed the deserted streets. It was past two in the morning, and his only wish was to get home quickly. He thought about the name mentioned by the man at the hospital and remembered having heard of the Marastrove surname before. He knew it was a powerful mafia family in the region. He feared that treating the son of the Marastrove family's boss could bring trouble.

Carlos arrived in front of his house and pressed the button on the remote control. Before moving the car again, he heard a thud on the window. He looked startled and saw an armed man.

"What else could happen this early morning? Wasn't what happened at the hospital enough, and now I'm being robbed," Carlos thought.

The man made a gesture with his gun, indicating for Carlos to roll down the window. Carlos obeyed, not wanting to risk doing anything that could result in a shootout. He noticed that the man's hand was bloody, and the other hand held his abdomen.

"I need to get inside your house. If you cooperate, nothing bad will happen. Drive in slowly and close the gate," the armed man said.

Carlos was perplexed. "I thought he wanted to take the car. Why does he need to get into my house?" He thought as he obeyed and slowly drove in, closing the gate. He looked in the rearview mirror and noticed that the man had been shot. He thought he should do the same as he did at the hospital, not just to try to save his own life but also the man's life. After all, he was a doctor and couldn't run away from that responsibility.

He waited for the man to approach the car with difficulty.

"Get out. We need to go inside. I need you to do me a favor."

Carlos imagined that the man would ask him to help with the wound. He got out of the car, and the man in front of him almost fell. Carlos's reflexes were faster, and he held onto the man, getting his face close to his. Carlos couldn't maintain eye contact and looked down at the man's abdomen.

"Put the gun away and put your arm around my neck. I'm a doctor and I can help. I won't do anything against you. If this wound isn't treated, you could die. You're still losing blood."

The man looked at Carlos incredulously, probably thinking about how lucky he was to have approached a doctor, Carlos reflected. Carefully, he opened the back door and grabbed his medical bag from the back seat, under the watchful eye of the man standing beside him. Then, he walked towards the door, and heard a groan from the man. Carlos turned around and realized that the man was about to faint. He acted quickly, holding onto him and putting his arm around him. With this movement, Carlos couldn't avoid their faces being close again.

They both looked at each other, but Carlos couldn't maintain eye contact with those eyes. He looked away and continued to hold onto the man.

"You have beautiful eyes," the man said, catching Carlos' attention once again.

"Let's go inside. You're getting weak," Carlos replied, adjusting the man's body next to his and guiding him towards the door.

The sofa in the living room would have to do. Carlos wouldn't put that bloodied man in his bed; the leather sofa would be easier to clean. It wasn't easy to support him all the way there, and at no point did he let go of the gun in his hand.

"Lie down, I'll get everything I need to take care of your wound."

As someone who desired to have things under control, Carlos had everything he would need in his house, from anesthesia to blood bags. His preventive measures were deemed paranoid, but in that moment, it only confirmed that he was right to have it all in his house.

Carlos brought everything he needed, moved some things out of the way, and laid down a plastic sheet near the sofa, in case the injured man's blood splattered on the floor. He sterilized everything and began.

"I'm going to open your shirt, try not to move any more from now on."

The man made a slight eye movement, as if in confirmation. He had no more strength. He had lost a lot of blood and needed an immediate transfusion. The hand in which he needed to put the blood still held the gun.

"Can I put away your gun? I need to do an improvised transfusion and you can't keep holding it. If you don't trust me, then switch hands, please."

Carlos asked politely and amiably. He wasn't foolish enough to confront that armed dying man. The man looked at him with nearly closed eyes and handed the gun to Carlos. He took the gun clumsily and put it on the floor. The man tried to say something but passed out before he could; Carlos had to hurry, the blood pressure was dropping, and that wasn't good.

"You need to hold on," he said, even though the other couldn't hear him.

Sweat was already dripping down his face. In that position and without all the necessary equipment, it was even more tense to do it. He was already on the second blood bag. His own blood was O-, so he knew he was a universal donor, but the blood was partly his own, he had saved it for his own use, in case he needed it. But in that moment, he had no way to get another one and couldn't be stingy at that point, even knowing that he was probably a criminal, or who knows what.

After suturing, covering the wound, and checking his blood pressure again, Carlos could finally stop to observe that man. His abdominal muscles were well defined, a few strands of hair beginning to grow on his chest. His face was handsome, some strands of hair falling onto his forehead, and he had a scar on his left eyebrow. The scar even gave him a certain charm. Carlos started to observe the details of that beautiful and virile man on his sofa. He bit the corner of his lip without realizing it until he realized what he was doing.

"Don't let your desires take over, focus, Carlos, focus."

He spoke to himself in order to try to concentrate. He started to think about what he would do with that man there and who he could call. Someone should be looking for him, his family, or a boss, someone. He rummaged through his pocket for a phone and found one, but it had no battery. Luckily, it was the same model as his, so his charger would work.

Carlos was tired. After checking on the patient again, he plugged his phone in to charge and went to take a shower. That early hours had been exhausting, his whole routine disrupted by a gang fight: first armed people at the hospital, then at his house. He finished that well-deserved shower and checked the battery level to see how much it had charged. He turned on the phone in the hopes that someone would call him.

Carlos continued drying his hair and went to check the patient's blood pressure again. He didn't have the equipment to keep him connected, so he would have to check constantly. The transfusion had already finished, but the IV fluids were still with him. There were painkillers and anti-inflammatories in that IV, which would help a lot.

His body's blood had already been cleaned, and all the things were cleared from the living room. Carlos sat on a cushion near the stranger, and when the time for the new inspection came, he would be close by.

Carlos's exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he fell asleep right there. His arm was on the couch and his head rested on it. The man next to him woke up, trying to recognize where he was and what the situation was. When he saw Carlos sleeping beside him, he remembered and lifted his head slightly. He saw that his wound had been treated and bandaged, he wasn't dead, and it was thanks to the man in front of him.

Carlos's sleep was so deep that he didn't wake up when the man moved on the couch. The man stared at him, lying there awkwardly. He brushed a strand of hair from Carlos's forehead and mentally noted the delicate features of the man who saved his life. The robe he wore was slightly open at the top, revealing smooth and fair skin. He found him very sexy.

The man turned his head back and looked at the ceiling, imagining how beautiful that skin would look, slightly reddened from bites and kisses. He shook his head and took a deep breath. This was not the time to think dirty thoughts. Probably, the guy was straight, and his recent experience with love had put him in that situation. There were more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. He had to deal with the betrayal he had suffered and needed to contact his men.

He searched his pocket, but the cell phone wasn't there. If it was turned off, his men wouldn't be able to track his location; probably, that man took it out of his pocket. He tried to make an effort to get up, but felt pain. If he tried to turn to support himself, he would probably wake up the man; he seemed tired, and him sleeping there was too cute.

As he thought about how to get up without waking him, he heard the doorbell ringing. He closed his eyes, pretending to still be asleep. He felt the man's movements on the couch, and the noise of the visitor woke him up. He slowly opened his eyes and saw him heading towards the door.

Carlos looked at the clock, and it was already five-fifteen in the morning. "Who could it be at this hour?" he wondered. He looked at the electronic panel and saw some men in suits outside the gate. Carlos became apprehensive and pressed the intercom.

"Yes, who is it?"

A man who was closer to the intercom approached.

"We've come to pick up our boss."

Carlos wondered how they knew that the man was there, but remembered that he turned on the cell phone hoping that someone would call, which could have allowed them to track his location.

Carlos didn't know if he could trust and open the door. What if they weren't his men? What if they were the guys who shot him? And if they killed him right there? A lot of questions went through his mind, and he had a startle when he heard a strong and firm voice next to his ear.

"They are my men."

Carlos was startled and turned quickly, leaning against the wall near the intercom panel. His heart rate accelerated when he saw that man standing in front of him and so close. The man leaned his face a little closer and looked at the panel again. His face was now very close to Carlos's, who was still looking without knowing what to do.

The man stared at Carlos up close and spoke again.

"Yes, they are indeed my men. Could you open the gate, please?"

Carlos was somewhat paralyzed with those black eyes staring at him. He cleared his throat, looked the other way, and nodded. Then he turned around, and the man stepped back a little, allowing him to use the intercom.

Carlos pressed a button, and the gate opened. He returned his gaze, looking at the man in front of him. The man approached Carlos, took both hands and pulled his robe to close it properly, covering his exposed chest.

As he fixed it, he made sure that his finger brushed against the soft skin there, being covered. Carlos trembled slightly as he felt the other's finger gliding over his skin. He looked at him again, and the man in front of him returned the gaze, smirking, and spoke.

"I don't want my men to see you like this. This was a momentary indulgence just for me."

Carlos looked at him even more incredulous at what he had just heard.

Carlos opened the door, allowing the men outside to enter. All of them were armed, unaware of what they would find inside. Carlos stood by the door, next to that man.

"What do you think you're doing, Paulo?" the man said. "Put your weapons down. There's no enemy here."

The man reprimanded his men, causing them to lower their weapons. Carlos held one arm around his own body and with the other, he held onto the collar of his robe, unable to deny that he was scared. Unlike the hospital, in his house, he was alone and no one would see if they killed him there.

"I apologize, my men need better manners," he apologized, trying to reassure Carlos.

Carlos nodded, accepting his apology.

"I saw blood bags thrown over there. Did you do a transfusion on me?" the man asked, intrigued.

"You lost a lot of blood and needed it. I had my blood stored for emergencies, so I had to use it," Carlos replied, worried that the man would feel offended by having his blood used on him.

The man approached Carlos, raising an eyebrow. "So now, I have your blood running through my veins, Doctor? Can we say we are bound by blood?" he finished speaking and gave a smirk.

Carlos swallowed hard and looked away from the man. They moved away from the door and headed towards the couch. The man asked for his gun and Carlos pointed to the table in the corner. Paulo grabbed the gun and put it away. The man put on his shoes and looked at Carlos again.

"As for the medical expenses, I would like you to give me your account to deposit the amount," the man said, patting his pants in search of his phone.

"You don't owe me anything. I didn't do this for fees. I'm a doctor and I swore to save lives, regardless of who it is. And if you're looking for your phone, it's charging right over there," Carlos replied firmly, staring at the man. He didn't want anything to do with them, so he clearly didn't want to receive payment from them.

"Well, then, how can I thank you, Doctor... we haven't properly introduced ourselves. I'm Alberto, Alberto Castelhano," Alberto said, extending his hand to Carlos.

Carlos couldn't help but shake Alberto's hand. He introduced himself, "I'm Carlos. The last name doesn't matter."

At that moment, he was worried. In a single night, he met two mobsters from the two most dangerous families in the city. If it wasn't bad luck, he didn't know what it was.

Alberto asked Paulo for a card and handed it to Carlos.

"This is my card, Carlos. Call me if you need anything. You saved my life, so from today on, I have a debt to you."

Carlos took the card, looking at the number. He had no intention of calling, but it was better not to say that. He just wanted Alberto to leave as soon as possible.

Alberto told his men to leave and wait in the car. They all left immediately and Alberto approached Carlos. He looked into Carlos's eyes and spoke satisfactorily.

"Thank you. I want you to know that what I said was true. I have a debt to you. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything. If anyone threatens you, whatever the reason, I will come immediately."

Alberto took Carlos's hand and kissed it. He smirked and turned to leave the house. Carlos felt his heart race as Alberto said those words, looking into his eyes and kissing his hand like that.

No one had ever said something like that before, that they would come immediately if he needed them. Carlos shook his head, regaining his senses. He couldn't let himself be carried away by need, even though that man was attractive, seductive, and very powerful. That offer was just out of gratitude.

Carlos ran to the door, closing it and looking through the peephole to make sure they had really left. They were just getting into the car. Carlos pressed the button, closing the gate again before they could change their minds and come back.

He was exhausted, barely realizing that he had fallen asleep like that next to Alberto. Carlos headed towards the bedroom to sleep. He closed the curtains and flopped onto the bed, just wanting to sleep and forget the worst night of his life.

Alberto got into the car followed by Paulo. He hadn't even closed the door properly, and Alberto was already giving orders.

"Get in touch with Michael. I want all the information about Carlos, from his bank account to how many times he goes to the bathroom. Don't let anything slip, I want it as soon as possible," he ordered, and Paulo looked slightly intrigued but signaled that he would do it.

"I want someone watching him. If the Marastrove find out that I was saved by him, they might want to hurt him. If you see someone lurking around him, whether at his house or work, let me know."

Alberto gritted his teeth, a look of hatred crossing his face as he remembered Andrey and how he was betrayed by Pablo.

"Find that damned Pablo and bring him to me alive. His betrayal won't go unpunished."

Paulo and another man exchanged glances. They knew Alberto was loyal, hated betrayals and deceit, and they could only imagine that he was furious. They didn't know what he might do when he encountered Pablo again.

Alberto had met Pablo at one of his nightclubs. Pablo seemed to be the naive and inexperienced type. Slowly, he gained Alberto's trust, until he reached his bed.

Alberto took care of and protected Pablo, as he had reported that he had only had one boyfriend in his life and it was an abusive relationship. However, after a year, he was stabbed by Pablo, who had set up an ambush with Andrey to kill him.

He found out later that day that Pablo was having an affair with Andrey, and that it had all been a ruse to deceive Alberto. Pablo was shot during the exchange of gunfire, and he didn't know if he was alive or not, but if he was, it wouldn't be for much longer. Alberto was definitely going to kill him.

Andrey was anxious to know about Alberto's whereabouts.

"Find that bastard, discover in which hospital he is, or in which alley he died. Just find him, dammit! If he's alive, he must be weak, as he lost a lot of blood. It'll be easier to finish the job. Don't leave Pablo alone at the clinic. Even though it's ours, we can't take any risks."

Andrey wanted to prove to his father that he could handle the business. This task had to be finished quickly and successfully. He touched his shoulder where he was hit by that bullet.

He remembered Alberto and the hatred between them, but at the same time, he remembered Carlos while undergoing treatment. Andrey smirked and called his subordinate.

"Find out more about that doctor, the days he works, where he lives. I want a complete report. Those eyes are stuck in my head."

Carlos woke up well past noon and still felt tired. Maybe all that change in his routine had stressed him too much. He took a shower and decided to eat out, he needed to breathe fresh air and get away from there for a while. Every time he passed through the living room, he could see Alberto lying on the couch. He wanted to forget about that whole hospital experience, as well as his own house.

Carlos looked through the intercom's screen and the external cameras to make sure there was no one waiting there. He locked the doors, got into the car, and opened the gate, still with a racing heart. He headed towards the avenue and didn't notice a motorcycle parked near his house. As soon as Carlos left, the motorcycle started following him from a distance.

"Sir, the doctor left the house," the man on the motorcycle said.

"Alright, follow him from a distance and don't let him notice he's being followed. Don't get close or interfere, unless absolutely necessary. If Marastrove's men show up, let me know immediately."

Alberto ended the call and focused his attention again on the doctor in front of him. He was in a private clinic that they used when they got injured. He had to recover as quickly as possible from that wound. The doctor said that, even though it was something improvised, the work was well done, and he recovered fast, but he couldn't exert himself too much.

Unaware that he was being followed, Carlos headed to the restaurant he used to go. After sitting down, he saw a couple at the front table and immediately regretted going to that place. That was where he asked Lucas to be his boyfriend and where they always went to eat or celebrate something. He needed to find another place that didn't bring back memories of his ex.

Outside, the man who was following him reported to Alberto where Carlos was. That was one of the Castelhano family's restaurants. Alberto smiled and told him to keep following. Alberto called the restaurant and instructed them not to charge Carlos for the meal, gave his full description, and asked them to come up with some promotion or something similar.

Carlos enjoyed the meal while looking at the view. He still found himself thinking about the events of the night, the fear he felt at the hospital, the way Alberto held his robe so his men wouldn't see his chest.

As he thought about the last event, his lips unconsciously curled up. Realizing he was smiling, he cleared his throat and looked around. There was no reason to smile at that gesture from Alberto, after all, he wouldn't see that man again.

Carlos asked for the bill, and the waiter informed him that it had already been paid. As a regular customer, he was taking advantage of a promotion.

Carlos didn't find it strange and thanked before leaving the restaurant. He was close to the mall and decided to stop by there. He looked at some shop windows, bought a few things, and then decided to head back home.

Arriving at the parking lot, Carlos went towards his car. He saw a black car approaching and parking near him.

Carlos felt apprehensive for a moment and saw a man getting out of the car. He was dressed elegantly, with the blazer thrown over his shoulder, sunglasses, and a cigarette in his hands.

Andrey approached Carlos with a smile, and Carlos took two steps back.

"If it isn't my dear Dr. Carlos. So, doctor, how have you been?" Carlos looked around at the other men before responding. He tried to maintain the same calmness he had at the hospital.

"I'm fine. Looks like you're recovering quite well."

"Thanks to your treatment, doctor. Since we're here, could you join me for a coffee?"

Carlos thought carefully before replying, "I'm sorry, but let's leave it for another time. I have some things to take care of before returning to my shift."

Carlos nodded farewell and made his way to the car. Andrey's companion, who had been aggressive at the hospital, stepped forward but was stopped by Andrey, who gave him a stern look.

"Feisty, huh? But mark my words, doctor, I'll still win you over." Andrey smiled and got into the car, driving off to park elsewhere.

Carlos got into the car and ran his hand over his face, trying to calm himself. He pondered if it would always be like this, having to meet with mobsters all the time. That feeling of no longer being in control was eating him up inside.

In another part of the city, Alberto had already received the news of Carlos's meeting with Andrey, which intrigued and worried him. Had Andrey found out that he had helped him, or did they already know each other? Alberto called Michael again.

"Find out how Andrey knows the doctor you're investigating. I want that information by today." That information bothered him in such a way that he didn't even understand why.