Being a nurse in the mafia world is not easy. Often, you find yourself unable to go home, tasked instead with caring for critically injured patients. Such is the case this night, where you find yourself face to face with Deryl, the mafia leader.

As you suspected, there would be no going home tonight; you have settled into one of the guest rooms for the night. The hour is late, and you wear nothing but a thin silk pajama. Despite the late hour, sleep eludes you; there is still work to be done.

Suddenly, you are startled as someone barges in. It is Deryl. Oh no, you forgot to lock the door, but fortunately, you haven't yet drifted off to sleep. You instinctively ask, "Mr. Deryl, what brings you here? How may I assist you?"

You notice the bloodstains on his clothing, signaling that it is time for a change of bandages and a fresh shirt. You gesture for him to enter. "Please, have a seat," you command, pointing to your bed.

He merely smirks, walking calmly to the edge of the bed and taking a seat. You gather the necessary medications and bandages, positioning yourself between his legs. "Take off your shirt," you instruct.

With a satisfied grin, he obliges, revealing a large, deep wound that extends from his chest down to his lower abdomen. He should be in immense pain, yet he appears remarkably composed. You take a cloth and begin to clean the wound.

Throughout the process, he sits still, seemingly admiring your figure. You hold your breath, fighting the urge to grimace at the sight of his tattooed, bare torso, feeling a mix of repulsion and professionalism. Suddenly, he lets out a deep, raspy laugh. "What’s so funny?" you ask, striving to maintain your composure.

He beams back at you, his smile bright. "I've never seen a woman so disgusted by my half-naked body."