Page 36 of Mafia King's Forbidden Obsession

Feelings. My smirk melts into a frown when I recall her wrists. They'd seemed swollen. Despite the fact that she called for trouble, I couldn't help but be angry at the sight. It took great restraint not to find the guard and smash his head against the wall. But that'd portray me as weak because, in the end, she did try to escape.

A dry laugh almost leaves my lips at the thought. Weak… I'm not weak. I'm anything but that. I've killed hundreds… taken the lives of many. Still, I got angry when I saw her hurt.

Fuck. Perhaps that’s why I transferred aggression to the stockkeeper. I may have given him a less painful death.

Her eyes flick up to mine, interrupting my thoughts. I'm grateful for the interruption because what the fuck was I thinking about in a moment like this?

She looks down at her patient and snips the thread with a razor. Then she holds my gaze, lips parting as she takes a deep breath. From the dull look in her eyes, I can tell what she'll say next, and she doesn't disappoint.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this.”

No, she didn’t. It’s Tomasso’s fault she’s in this mess. The bastard must live to tell me who he’s working for.

“Will he live?” I eye Tomasso. He doesn't look any different from how he did before. In fact, he looks worse.

His skin looks almost gray, and his breathing is shallow. Fuck. I can’t lose him—not with everything he knows.

Raven doesn’t answer right away. She won’t look at me, and when she finally does, there’s something I don’t expect— tears. Her eyes are glassy, full of unshed emotion.

That hits me like a punch to the gut. She looks like she’s barely holding herself together, and I can’t wrap my head around it.

I glance back at Tomasso. His lips are pale, and his body is stiffer than a log of wood. He’s a corpse, his face pale as death itself. Raven wipes her hands with a cloth, moving slowly like she’s too exhausted to function. She doesn’t even meet my eyes.

“I couldn’t save him,” she says, her voice breaking as she brings a hand to wipe tears off her cheeks. “I tried, but… I’m sorry, Ezra. I failed.”

Her eyes are swollen, laced with sadness, and I feel sorry for her. I'm tempted to console her, but I restrain myself. Not now, not when our plan has just been reduced to only hopes of Tomasso’s people taking the bait.

Chapter eleven

Raven

Horrific− the one word that can summarize every one of my encounters in this house. Just when I try to recover from one thing, Ezra makes me go through another. There is no stop button with that man.

The sky is still dark out, though I am sure it’s the early hours of the morning. I toss around, the cool bed and soft comforter unable to lull me to sleep. I would be a psychopath if I actually slept, after all I had experienced in the past twenty-four hours.

The thought of the ‘stitch room,’ as Ezra called it, makes me wince. The image of the blue room was cramped with two operating tables, two recovery beds, and standing shelves that lined the wall and stored only essentials.

Despite scrubbing my hands a few times after returning to my bedroom, I still felt the blood on my hands. The face of the bleeding man storms my mind. He died right there on the table. I recall my desperate attempt at saving him, but it was not near enough.

The dead guy… “Who was he anyway?” I wonder quietly, turning around to face away from the window.

I have seen my fair share of men harmed by Ezra, and he has never made a move to save even one of them. So what’s so special about this one? Or is the mafia boss finally growing a heart?

My shoulders sag sadly…it doesn't matter anymore. It was my first solo operation, and I failed woefully. Being only a third of the way through my residency, I haven’t had the chance to perform any surgeries on my own until now. Still, the failure weighs heavily on me.

Dr. Wells would be deeply disappointed.“This level of performance is unacceptable,” he’d say, his lips curling into a scowl. “I expected much more from you.”

Harper would’ve wrapped me in a comforting hug.“You’ll get them next time, sweetie,”she would murmur, her voice soft against my neck.My chest tightens at the thought, a sense of nostalgia biting at me.I miss her.

Feeling a familiar sting behind my eyes, I hold my breath, my grip tightening around the pillow beneath my ear. Crying hasnever done me any good except make me look weak. I have to keep it together to survive. Harper is waiting on the other side.

With the loss of the patient that afternoon, the one chance I had to show Ezra that I could be very useful to his cartel has fallen through. My heart sinks in my chest.

I need a new plan.I climb out of bed and pace the length of the bedroom, my mental gears reeling with possibilities of freedom.

It’s evident that if I’m ever going to escape this shit hole, it won’t be by continuously challenging my captor. I have witnessed firsthand my fate if I stay on this path.

Think, Raven!It’s also evident that I must steer clear from being a liability; an asset is what this cartel needs. That is the only plausible reason Ezra fought tooth and nail to revive that man.

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