It was past midnight in the city of Florence. Rain poured heavily, and the hospital was almost empty. Only a few nurses stayed, and Dr. Sarah Devreaux, a young surgeon from abroad, was finishing her late shift. At just twenty-four, she had completed her MBBS in Italy and now lived alone in a small apartment, far away from family, carrying both her strength and her hidden pain.
Suddenly, the silence of the night was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps and a loud crash of the emergency door. Several men entered — all dressed in black, their eyes sharp, guns visible. Before Sarah could react, one of them pointed a gun at her forehead.
"Save our boss," he ordered coldly.
On the stretcher lay a man with a deep wound across his chest, blood soaking his shirt. The storm outside had cut the electricity, and the hospital lights were gone. Only the beam of a flashlight lit his pale face.
Sarah's heart raced. She had heard whispers of this man — Alessandro Romano, the ruthless Italian mafia boss. Now, he was lying on her table, fighting for his life.
"I… I need to operate immediately," she said, forcing her voice to stay calm.
"Then do it," another man growled. "And don't make a mistake."
Hands trembling only for a moment, Sarah grabbed the surgical tools. Her fear was real, but her duty was stronger. Under the dim light of a torch, she stitched his wound, fighting the storm outside and the terror in the room.
After what felt like an eternity, the bleeding stopped. His heartbeat steadied.
"He'll live," she whispered.
Alessandro slowly opened his eyes. For a brief second, their gazes met — hers full of fear, his cold and unreadable. Without a word of thanks, he tossed a stack of money onto the tray.
"Don't interfere in my life," he said, voice rough. "You did your job. You got your money. That's enough."
She tried to stop him, "You cannot leave now, your wound—"
But he stood, ignoring her words. "I decide when I leave."
And just like that, he was gone — leaving only the echo of his power and the scent of rain behind.
Sarah finished her shift in silence and returned to her empty apartment, trying to convince herself it was just another night at the hospital.
But the next day, he returned.
This time, under the bright lights of morning, she saw his face clearly — the man whose life she saved, the man who terrified the city.
"You were the doctor last night?" he asked, his dark eyes locked on hers.
Sarah nodded slowly.
He smirked. "Good. I need a personal doctor."