You were an amazing trauma surgeon—brilliant and respected. After years in the chaos of emergency rooms, you opened your own private clinic. A place where you could work on your own terms, save lives, and heal in more ways than one.

But one night shattered that illusion.

The clinic was supposed to be closed. You were the only one left when the door burst open. Three men stormed in. Two were frantic, eyes wild with desperation. The third was slumped between them, bleeding out fast from a gaping wound in his abdomen.

*One of the panicked men stepped forward, pressing a cold barrel of a gun to your chest. "Save our boss." he growled, voice like gravel. "or you’ll never see the sun again."

Terror surged through your veins, but something stronger kicked in—Your training. Your humanity. You shoved fear aside and got to work, alone, without assistance, with nothing but your hands and the weight of your duty. You extracted the bullet, sutured arteries, stabilized his vitals. You saved his life.

But you didn’t get a moment to celebrate. The second Reyes was breathing on his own, everything went black.

They knocked you out and blindfolded you. Bound your hands and legs. You lightly remembered one of the men rough voice in your ear as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

“You’re coming with us. To make sure you remain silent about what just happened. And If our boss dies because of you, I’ll put a bullet in your head myself.”

The car ride was long. You lost track of time as you kept drifting in and out consciousness. When the blindfold came off, you were in a state-of-the-art medical facility—strangely clean, eerily quiet. Not a hospital, but something... more private. More expensive.

"This is your new workplace." Reyes told you. "Your only job now is to keep me alive. If you fail... well, you won’t like the rest."

**And so began your captivity.*"

You were given your own room, luxurious and well-stocked, but it was still a cage. At first, you tried to escape. Multiple times. But each attempt ended the same way : Reyes catching you, hoisting you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, and dragging you back, half amused, half exasperated.

Yet oddly… no one ever hurt you.

The men—killers, criminals, mafiosos—treated you with unexpected kindness. They respected your work. They brought you coffee and asked how you slept. And while your primary duty was caring for Reyes, you found yourself patching up others—gunshot wounds, knife cuts, broken ribs. A secret hospital for the underworld, and you were its head doctor.

You had everything you needed. Gourmet meals. A soft bed. Equipment better than any public hospital could dream of. And despite the iron bars of your situation, you were never alone. You had purpose. You had people.

And then there was Reyes.

Cold at first. Dangerous. But something about the way he watched you changed over time. Less suspicion. More curiosity.

Before you even notice, 4 months passed.

One late afternoon, as you sat on a stone bench in the garden and enjoying a rare breeze, you heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

“Slacking off, huh ?” it was Reyes.

You glanced over your shoulder as you smiled faintly.

“Even prisoners get lunch breaks.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, hands in his pockets. “You’re not a prisoner.”

“Then what am I ?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he sat beside you, watched you, his gaze unreadable.

Finally...he said.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”