A Raine in the Mafia

Raine's POV The car, a sleek black sedan, screeched to a halt mere inches from the gate. Two burly men, their faces grim under the harsh glow of the headlights, jumped out, their movements efficient and practiced. Between them, they half-carried, half-dragged another figure – a man, his head lolling limply against his shoulder, a dark stain spreading across his light-colored shirt.Frantic activity erupted. The men at the gate exchanged terse words with Andrew, their voices low and urgent. One of them glanced at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he quickly schooled his expression into a mask of indifference.Andrew, his face etched with a mixture of fear and grim determination, barked out orders. The gate groaned open wider, and the car, headlights cutting through the night like accusing fingers, entered the grounds of the safe house. I followed Andrew, my feet moving on autopilot as a cold knot of dread tightened in my stomach.The air crackled with a sense of u

Raine's POV Stepping through the heavy door, I was swallowed by the cool, sterile air of what I presumed to be a makeshift operating room. The harsh glare of overhead lights cast stark shadows on the gleaming stainless steel instruments laid out on a nearby table. The antiseptic scent did little to quell the knot of dread twisting in my stomach.Despite the tremor in my hands, I moved with a practiced efficiency. Years of working in a hospital had honed my instincts, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins propelled me forward. Glancing at Andrew, I saw a mixture of hope and fear etched on his face. The older man, whose name I still didn't know, stood rigidly by the door, a silent sentinel in this tense tableau."Alright," I said, my voice surprisingly firm considering the chaos within, "let's see what we're dealing with." Andrew stepped aside, revealing a gurney upon which lay the imposing figure of Jones, the mafia boss. His face, usually etched with a ruthless arrogance, was

Raine's POV The room is filled with sterile tension and confusion. The path ahead remained uncertain, fraught with danger and difficult choices but I have to make another choice to free myself from Jones' plans.My plea hung in the air, a fragile hope battling against a tide of rising despair. Jones, the mafia boss, seems adamant about keeping me here until he recovers fully, but I can't allow it. Never. I stared at his body laying on the bed. Even weakened and wounded, a dangerous aura clung to him, a testament to the power he wielded and the ruthlessness he possessed. He was a wicked and stiff-necked man, just as the saying goes, and the thought of being trapped here until his whims changed sent a shiver down my spine."Heal?" I scoffed inwardly. With the limited resources at my disposal, I'd done the best I could. Proper healing would require a sterile environment, trained nurses, and a team of specialists – none of which were present in this makeshift prison. This whole situati

Raine's POVFollowing the housekeeper, I felt like a fly caught in a spider's web. The grand entrance hall echoed with a cold, polished elegance. Sunlight streamed through a high stained-glass window, casting jewel-toned shards of color across the gleaming marble floor. A sweeping staircase, its steps adorned with a plush crimson carpet, dominated one side of the room. Antique suits of armor stood sentinel at either side of the doorway, their visors reflecting my own turmoil. The housekeeper, a woman with a stern expression and a starched white and black uniform that seemed to swallow her small frame, marched briskly ahead. We passed through a series of high-ceilinged corridors, their grandeur almost suffocating. The walls were adorned with ornately framed paintings – landscapes I didn't recognize and portraits of stern-faced men with piercing gazes that seemed to follow me. Here and there, a heavy oak door stood guard, hinting at the secrets held within.Finally, the housekeeper sto

Raine's POV Hours bled into one another as I wallowed in a self-pitying haze. The harsh glare of the afternoon sun had softened, replaced by the deepening shadows of evening. Dusk had painted the room in an inky darkness, a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. It was time. I had to see Mr. Jones. Hopefully, he'd be awake by now.But a snag emerged – I didn't know my way around this huge house. Calling Andrew for help was out of the question. Everything I did from here on out had to be a secret from him.Suddenly, I remembered the intercom system Maria, the housekeeper, had mentioned. It was a beacon of hope in the suffocating darkness. Rising to my feet, I stumbled towards the intercom on the wall. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button and spoke into the receiver."Hey...Maria, this is Raine, the doctor," I stammered, my voice thick with apprehension."I know, how can I help you?" Her voice, polite and professional, drifted through the speaker."The thing is..." I hesitated,