Chapter 1 - The Six-Week Debt"Six weeks," Dominic repeated, his dark eyes locking onto hers with unyielding gravity.
Isla’s hand lingered on his shoulder, her fingers feeling the rigid tension of muscle beneath his hospital gown. "What are you talking about, Mr. Ashford? The care is over. You're being discharged."
"Fifty thousand dollars buys more than twelve hours of nursing care, Isla," he said, his voice lowering into a gravelly register that sent a shiver down her spine. "It buys a contract. Six weeks of private, off-the-books medical oversight at my estate on the North Shore. Your brother comes too."
Isla’s hand flew back as if she had touched a live wire. "Are you out of your mind? I have a life. I have a job at St. Mercy. I can't just uproot Marco and move into a mafia fortress!"
"It's not a fortress, it's a home. Heavily fortified, yes, but safe," Dominic replied, slipping a heavy, gold-embossed envelope onto the bedside tray. Inside, neat stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills peeked out like a silent temptation. "Your hospital shift ends in ten minutes. When you walk out those doors, you'll find an eviction notice on your windshield. The landlord sold your building to one of my holdings yesterday morning. You have nowhere else to go."
Isla stared at him, her breath hitching in her throat. "You... you manipulated this? You bought my building?"
"I secured your perimeter," Dominic corrected smoothly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Despite his pallor, his movements were terrifyingly calculated. "You think I'd leave a person who holds my life in her hands exposed to the chaos of Chicago? Marco is enrolled in a private academy starting today. His tuition is paid. Your debts are cleared. All you have to do is pack a bag."
"I am not your property!" Isla hissed, her voice shaking with a mixture of fury and absolute terror.
"No," Dominic agreed, standing up to his full, imposing height, wincing only slightly as his bandages strained. "You are the only person in this city who looked at a dying man and saw a human being. I don't share that kind of loyalty. I protect it."
Before she could form a reply, the door clicked open. Carter stepped inside, holding a sleek black trench coat. "The car is waiting downstairs, Boss. The rival factions are moving faster than anticipated. We need to clear the district before sunrise."
Dominic slid his arms into the coat, buttoning it against the morning chill. He looked back at Isla, who stood frozen between the rolling tray and the hospital bed.
"The money is yours whether you come or not," Dominic said quietly, turning toward the door. "But if you stay in this city alone, the men who put these bullets in me will find out who treated my wounds. Choose carefully, Isla."
He walked out into the corridor, his boots clicking rhythmically against the linoleum.
May you like
Isla stood alone in room 304. She looked at the envelope on the tray, then down at her scuffed sneakers. With trembling fingers, she picked up the envelope, shoved it into her scrub pocket, and grabbed her coat.
She had just signed away her freedom. And deep down, she knew there was no turning back.
