Episode 2

Roman Zachary

The car wound through the silent streets, each turn taking me further from everything I knew. The city lights faded behind us, replaced by long stretches of empty roads bordered by thick trees. When we finally stopped, I wasn’t ready for what I saw.

A mansion loomed ahead, dark and sprawling, its walls covered in shadow and cold menace. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d ever stumble upon by accident. It was hidden, intentional, the kind of fortress you’d find in a thriller novel. The silver-edged gates glinted under the faint moonlight, and the structure itself looked both regal and foreboding, as if daring anyone to come near.

The car door opened. The man in the black suit—silent and stoic as always—stood waiting. His expression betrayed nothing as he gestured for me to step out.

I hesitated, swallowing hard as my gaze shifted to the men stationed around the driveway. Dressed in black, each one armed and alert, they moved like shadows, their eyes tracking every movement. I didn’t need to be a genius to know this wasn’t just any wealthy man’s estate. These men were soldiers.

The henchman at my side cleared his throat, his impatience clear. I stepped out of the car, my legs stiff as fear gnawed at my gut.

The marble steps leading to the mansion’s entrance felt endless. The cold air bit at my skin, but it wasn’t just the chill that made me shiver. With each step, a crushing sense of dread settled deeper in my chest.

Inside, the mansion was as imposing as its exterior. Dark walls stretched up toward vaulted ceilings, their shadows creeping like silent witnesses to secrets I couldn’t begin to imagine. The halls were a maze of marble and mahogany, lined with portraits of people who seemed to watch me as I passed. Their painted eyes glinted in the dim light, sharp and judgemental.

Finally, we stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. The henchman didn’t bother to knock, pushing it open to reveal a dimly lit room.

A man lay on a bed in the center, surrounded by beeping machines. Blood soaked his shirt and the sheets beneath him, the metallic tang thick in the air. It wasn’t the scene of a medical emergency—it was a battlefield aftermath disguised as a sickroom.

My training kicked in, overriding the fear buzzing at the back of my mind. I dropped my bag beside the bed, pulling on gloves. My eyes scanned the wound: a gunshot, too close to the lung for comfort.

“How long has he been like this?” I demanded, my voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through me. “He needs surgery immediately. This setup isn’t good enough. He should be in a hospital.”

A voice cut through the room, low and commanding, with an edge sharp enough to slice through steel.

“He isn’t going to any hospital.”

I turned toward the source, startled.

Standing in the shadows was a man who radiated danger. His presence filled the room, making the air feel heavier. His green eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto mine, pinning me in place. He wore a dark suit that hugged his broad shoulders, the fabric too smooth to be off-the-rack.

There was something unnerving about him—controlled power, like a coiled spring ready to snap. His face was all angles, his jaw strong and set, his cheekbones high and sharp. He was handsome in a way that was both magnetic and terrifying, and everything about him screamed authority.

This was the boss.

“You don’t understand,” I started, holding his gaze despite the instinct to look away. “If he doesn’t get proper care—”

“You’re a doctor, aren’t you?” he interrupted, his voice smooth but laced with an edge of mockery. “Then you’ll do whatever is necessary. Here. Now.”

My heart pounded, but I refused to back down. “This isn’t a sterile environment. He needs—”

He stepped closer, and the cold detachment in his eyes made my skin crawl. “I didn’t ask for a list of what he needs,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously. “You’re here because you’re the best. Prove it.”

His next words, though soft, chilled me to the bone. “Or yours may be considerably shorter.”

The threat hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My breath caught as I stared into his unflinching gaze. There was no compromise in his tone, no room for argument.

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth, tearing my eyes away from him. “But I need everyone out. The fewer people here, the better.”

For a moment, he looked at me like I’d said something amusing. Then, with a curt nod, he turned to the men stationed by the door. “Leave.”

The guards hesitated, exchanging glances, but one sharp look from him was all it took to send them filing out.

The boss didn’t leave. He lowered himself into a chair against the wall, folding his arms as his piercing gaze stayed locked on me. “Do what you need to do, doctor,” he said. “I’ll be right here. In case you need… motivation.”

His presence was suffocating, but I couldn’t let it distract me. I turned back to the patient, my hands moving automatically as I assessed the wound. The bullet was lodged close to the lung, and the blood loss was severe. Every decision I made felt like walking a tightrope, the weight of that green-eyed stare pressing down on me with every passing second.

Time blurred as I worked, stitching and stabilizing, my movements precise despite the fear clawing at my chest. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I finished the final suture, my hands shaking with exhaustion.

“It’s done,” I said, pulling off my gloves and turning to face the boss. “He’s stable for now, but he’ll need better care to make a full recovery.”

The boss rose from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate. He stepped closer, the air between us charged with unspoken tension.

“You did well,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “But let me make one thing clear.” He leaned in, his face inches from mine. “Your life is now tied to his. If he dies, you’ll pay for it. Personally.”

The weight of his words hit me like a blow, the cold finality in his tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

“Understood,” I managed, my voice hoarse.

He straightened, his lips curling into a faint smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. You’ll stay here until I say otherwise. And remember, doctor…” His voice dropped, the next words a quiet warning. “Betray me, and your brother will pay the price.”

The door closed behind him with a finality that made my chest tighten.

I stood there, the weight of his threat pressing down on me. My brother’s life. My own freedom. Everything was now at the mercy of a man who saw me as nothing more than a pawn in his game.

For the first time in my life, I felt truly, utterly powerless.

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