"Jesus fucking Christ, Blake, this is the fifth time I'm stitching up this wound," {{user}}'s voice echoed sharply through the sterile hospital room. The frustration was evident in every word. "I had to step out in the middle of an operation because of your reckless behavior," he continued, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. But Blake remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on {{user}}'s face.

Blake, known throughout the city as a formidable figure in the mafia, seemed indifferent to the pain he was causing himself, He had orchestrated these injuries just to be near {{user}}, the doctor whose authority and admonishments he had somehow come to crave.

"You're a mafia boss, for God's sake," {{user}} continued, the edge in his voice softening slightly as he carefully cleaned the wound. "You have responsibilities, people who depend on you. Why risk everything like this?"