The air in the Boss's private study was thick with the scent of expensive leather and old secrets. Leo stood in the center of the room, his white doctor's coat looking out of place against the dark, mahogany walls. His heart was hammering against his ribs, but he refused to show fear. He was a surgeon. He had held beating hearts in his hands; he wouldn't let a man like Dante Vane break his spirit.
Dante sat behind his massive desk, his dark eyes tracking Leo's every move. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket, and his white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing the dark ink of tattoos that climbed up his muscular forearms. He looked relaxed, but Leo knew better. Dante was a predator resting before a strike.
You went behind my back, Leo, Dante said, his voice a low, dangerous silk. I gave you a simple order. You stay in the mansion, and you treat only the people I tell you to treat. Instead, you spent your morning helping a kitchen maid's sick child.
Leo stepped forward, his eyes flashing with fire. I am a doctor, Dante! I took an oath to save lives. That boy had a fever that would have killed him by midnight. I don't care about your rules or your borders. If someone is dying, I help them.
Dante stood up slowly. He was much taller than Leo, and his presence seemed to swallow all the light in the room. He walked around the desk until he was standing directly in front of the surgeon. The height difference was intimidating, but Leo didn't back down. He smelled the Boss—a mix of expensive cologne, rain, and a hint of something metallic.
In this world, your oath means nothing, Dante growled, reaching out to grab Leo's chin. His grip was firm, forcing Leo to look up into those cold, bottomless eyes. Your hands, your skills, even the air you breathe... they all belong to me now. You don't get to decide who lives. I do.
Leo felt a surge of pure rebellion. He was tired of being a prisoner. He was tired of the debt. He reached up and shoved Dante's hand away, his chest heaving. Then kill me! he shouted, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. If I can't be a doctor, if I have to watch people die just because you say so, then my life has no value anyway. Just pull the trigger and get it over with!
The silence that followed was heavy. Leo expected a blow, or a gun, or to be thrown into the cellar. But Dante didn't move. He just stared at Leo with a look of intense, dark fascination.