Episode 5

Alexander Maxim

I glance at Ivan, who’s lounging against the edge of the pool table in the lounge, casually tossing a billiard ball in the air. His movements are slower than usual, a faint wince escaping whenever he shifts too quickly. He’s hiding it well, though, laughing at something one of the younger men says, his usual charm in full force.

Kyle is stationed a few feet away, arms crossed, his face set in a stoic mask. But I know him too well to miss the sharp edge in his posture, the way his gaze keeps flicking toward Ivan—watching him, tracking every movement like a predator safeguarding its mate. Kyle doesn’t say anything yet, but I can see the restraint in his shoulders, the tight clench of his jaw.

“You’re pushing it,” Kyle finally says, his tone clipped but quiet enough for only Ivan to hear.

Ivan grins, leaning on the pool table with an exaggerated shrug. “Relax, Kyle. I’m fine.”

Kyle’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing in warning. “Fine doesn’t look like you limping across the room five minutes ago. Sit down before you tear something.”

Ivan chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, boss,” he says, teasing but obedient as he limps toward one of the chairs. Even as he sits, I catch the faint grimace he tries to hide.

Kyle watches him for a second longer than necessary before looking away, his face smoothing back into neutrality. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease.

I file the moment away for later, turning my attention back to the matter at hand.

“Where’s the doctor?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intended.

Kyle straightens, his arms unfolding. “He didn’t pick up, boss. Likely in surgery.”

I glance at my phone, where a string of missed calls stares back at me. A flicker of irritation blooms in my chest, hotter than I’d expected. It’s not just his absence that grates—it’s the principle. I allowed him the privilege of leaving the mansion freely, and now he’s testing my patience. He needs to understand that this arrangement isn’t optional.

“He must be busy with some patient,” Ivan offers, waving it off. “Let him be. I’m practically good as new anyway.”

I ignore Ivan’s attempt to diffuse me, my thoughts already shifting. The doctor has a spine, I’ll give him that, but he’s forgetful of his place. Perhaps he needs a reminder.

“Kyle,” I say, my voice steady, “prepare the car.”

Kyle raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t question me. “Yes, boss.”

Ivan smirks from his chair. “You’re really going to hunt him down? The guy’s probably elbow-deep in someone’s chest.”

“Then I’ll wait,” I reply coolly, slipping on my coat. “But the good doctor needs to understand who he answers to.”

Ivan laughs, wincing slightly as he does. “Poor guy. You’re going to scare the hell out of him.”

I pause at the door, glancing back at Ivan. “Maybe. But I prefer him alive. He’s more useful that way.”

Kyle follows me silently as we head to the car. The faint hum of satisfaction lingers in my chest. This isn’t just about control—it’s about setting the tone. Dr. Roman Zachary may think his world is separate from mine, but sooner or later, he’ll realize that every step he takes is within the bounds of my reach.

And tonight, I’ll make sure he knows it.

Roman Zachary

The surgery went longer than I expected. Hours hunched over a patient, threading a needle through skin, trying to outmaneuver death itself. My body aches with exhaustion as I pull off my gloves and toss them into the waste bin. The familiar beeping of monitors and the sharp scent of antiseptic cling to me like a second skin. For a few brief moments, the hospital feels like my sanctuary—a place where I have control, a place where the shadow of Alexander Maxim can’t reach me.

But the moment is fleeting.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, an all-too-familiar vibration. I don’t even have to look at the screen to know who it is. Unknown Number.

For two weeks now, I’ve been playing this strange double life. My work at the hospital continues uninterrupted during the day, but every night, his men are waiting for me after my shift. Waiting to take me back to the mansion, to check on Ivan or perform whatever medical task Maxim deems necessary. And every night, I sit in the back of that sleek black car, wondering how I ended up here.

Tonight, I let the phone buzz until it stops. A second later, it vibrates again. I sigh, shoving it back into my pocket. Whatever it is, it can wait.

As I head down the corridor toward the staff lounge, I hear someone calling my name.

“Zach!”

I turn to see one of my colleagues, Dr. Evans, striding toward me. He looks like he’s been through the same wringer I have, his white coat slightly rumpled, his clipboard tucked under his arm.

“You look like hell,” Evans says with a faint smirk.

“Thanks,” I replied dryly.

“Seriously, though, you’ve been working nonstop lately,” he says, his brow furrowing slightly. “You should take a day off before you burn out.”

I force a tired smile, trying to brush off his concern. “I’m fine, Evans. Just busy.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but before he can press further, I feel it—that prickle at the back of my neck, the undeniable sense of being watched.

The air in the hallway shifts, growing heavier.

“Zachary.”

The voice cuts through the noise around us, smooth and commanding. My stomach twists.

I turn slowly, already knowing who I’ll see.

Alexander Maxim stands at the end of the hallway, his piercing green eyes locked onto mine. Dressed in a black suit that clings to him like a second skin, he looks utterly out of place in the sterile, fluorescent-lit hospital. And yet, his presence commands the space as though it were made for him.

“Friend of yours?” Evans asks, glancing between us with raised eyebrows.

I swallow hard, forcing my expression to remain neutral. “Something like that.”

Maxim’s lips curl into a faint smile as he approaches, his gaze never leaving mine. The clack of his polished shoes against the tile floor seems to echo in the suddenly quiet hallway, drawing the attention of a few passing nurses.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” he says when he reaches me, his tone calm but with a dangerous edge.

“I was in surgery,” I reply, keeping my voice even. “I couldn’t exactly leave.”

“Ah, yes,” he murmurs, as if considering my explanation. “Saving lives. Very admirable.”

Evans clears his throat, clearly intrigued by the exchange. “Zach, care to introduce us?”

Maxim’s gaze flicks to Evans, assessing him in an instant before returning to me. “Alexander Maxim,” he says smoothly, extending a hand toward Evans. His tone is polite, but there’s a sharpness to it, a subtle warning that makes my pulse quicken. “Roman’s partner.”

I stiffen. Evans blinks, clearly caught off guard.

“Partner?” he repeats, looking at me with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Maxim doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes,” he says, his voice as smooth as silk. “We’ve kept it private, but I thought it was time to change that.”

Evans looks between us, his eyebrows climbing higher. “Huh. Well, I’ll be damned. Didn’t think you had it in you, Zach.”

I open my mouth to deny it, to say something, but Maxim cuts me off with a faint, knowing smile.

“Roman is very… private,” he says, his tone dripping with implication.

Evans chuckles, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Well, I won’t keep you two lovebirds. Nice meeting you, Mr. Alexander.”

Maxim inclines his head slightly, and Evans takes the hint, walking away with a smirk that makes me want to punch something.

The moment Evans is gone, I turn to Maxim, my voice low and sharp. “What the hell was that?”

Maxim raises an eyebrow, his expression calm and amused. “That,” he says smoothly, “was me reminding you of your obligations.”

“In the middle of my workplace?” I hiss, glaring at him. “Do you have any idea how inappropriate that was?”

He steps closer, his presence suffocating. “I don’t care about ‘appropriate,’ doctor,” he says softly, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “I care about results. And I don’t like being ignored.”

“I was working,” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. “You don’t own my life, Maxim.”

His smirk sharpens, and he leans in just enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my ear. “Don’t I?”

The words send a chill down my spine, but I refuse to look away. My fists clench at my sides, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Let’s go,” he says, straightening. It’s not a request.

“I still have work to do,” I say, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach.

“Your work is done for tonight,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before I can protest further, he places a hand on my shoulder—a gesture that’s deceptively gentle, but carries an unmistakable weight. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Roman.”

The use of my first name throws me, and for a moment, I can’t find the words to fight back.

Alexander Maxim

The doctor glares at me, his jaw tight, his dark eyes burning with frustration. It’s almost endearing, the way he tries to stand his ground, even when he knows he’s already lost.

“You’re upset,” I say, my voice calm, almost amused. “Good. It means you’re paying attention.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tension in his posture speaks volumes.

As we stepped into the car, I let my hand linger on his shoulder, feeling the taut line of his muscles beneath my fingers. He’s trying so hard to maintain control, to keep a piece of himself untouched by my influence.

But control is an illusion. And sooner or later, he’ll realize that everything in his life—his time, his choices, his very breath—belongs to me.

“Relax, doctor,” I say smoothly, settling into my seat. “We’re just going home.”

He doesn’t relax. But that’s fine. I’ve never been one to rush a game worth playing.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***