Elias stood in the center of the hospital room, his heart hammering against his ribs. The contract was signed. The ink was dry. He had officially sold his soul to Dante Moretti. Outside the window, the sun was setting over the city, turning the sky a deep, bloody red.
"Pack your things, Elias," Dante said. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning his black silk shirt with slow, steady fingers. He still looked pale, but the predatory light in his eyes was back. "We are leaving. My men have already cleared your desk."
"Leaving? Dante, you just had surgery three days ago! You aren't stable enough to go home," Elias protested. He stepped forward, his doctor instincts taking over. "You need monitoring. You need a sterile environment."
Dante stood up. He was taller than Elias, and his shadow seemed to stretch across the entire room, swallowing the light. He walked over until he was inches away from Elias. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind Elias's ear. His touch was cold, but it sent a bolt of electricity through Elias's skin.
"I have a full medical wing at the mansion, Elias. It is better than this hospital. And most importantly," Dante leaned down, his voice dropping to a dark whisper, "it is private. No Julian Graves. No annoying nurses. Just you and me."
Two large men in black suits entered the room. They didn't say a word. They just picked up Elias's medical bag and his coat. Elias felt a wave of panic. This was really happening. He wasn't a Chief of Neurosurgery anymore. He was a piece of property.
They walked through the hospital corridors. Every doctor and nurse they passed looked at the floor. Nobody wanted to make eye contact with the Mafia Boss. Elias felt like a ghost walking through his own life.
When they reached the underground parking garage, a fleet of black SUVs was waiting. Dante led Elias to the middle car. The windows were so dark you couldn't see inside.
"Get in," Dante commanded.
Elias hesitated. If he got into that car, there was no going back. He looked at the exit of the garage. He could run. He could scream. But he knew the guards would catch him before he reached the street.
He climbed into the back seat. The leather was soft and smelled like expensive tobacco and Dante's cologne. Dante sat next to him, so close that their shoulders touched. The door closed with a heavy thud, locking out the rest of the world.
As the car started to move, Dante reached over and grabbed Elias's hand. He didn't lock his fingers; he just held Elias's palm flat against his own. "Don't look so scared, Elias. You are the most valuable thing I own. I promise to take very good care of you."
Elias looked out the window as the hospital disappeared behind them. He was a prisoner now, hidden in the Devil's shadow. But as he looked at Dante's sharp jawline in the dim light, he realized he wasn't just afraid. He was curious. He wanted to know what kind of life waited for him behind the gates of the Moretti mansion.