The Mafia's Physician

Chapter Two

Ethan entered the dimly lit study, his footsteps echoing against the polished wooden floor. The scent of whiskey hung in the air, mingling with the faint crackle of the fireplace. Killian sat behind his mahogany desk. He had his fingers drumming impatiently, eyes dark with anticipation. Without a word, Ethan dropped a thick manila folder onto the table before him.

“This is everything I could find on her, sir,” Ethan muttered. “Her name is Evelyn Carter. Medical student, top of her class, works at the city hospital. Her father’s condition… explains the extra shifts.”

Killian’s jaw clenched as he opened the folder. His eyes scanned each page with a ferocity that surprised even himself. Images of Evelyn stared back at him; her bright smile contrasted sharply with the clinical details of her life. He gripped the small bag of medication she’d bought for him, feeling the crinkle of the plastic against his palm.

“Why does she keep doing this?” he whispered, almost to himself. His voice was laced with frustration. The drugs she’d chosen weren’t just for healing; they now represented an addiction.

He wanted to feel them once again from her. Those eyes brimming with worry for him, her slender shoulders drooping as she sighs in relief, her little hands resting on his head, her words that manage to feed deep into his souls eating away his senses- He wanted her.

His heart twisted, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe, overwhelmed by an emotion he refused to name.

“She’s dangerous, isn’t she?” Ethan asked.

“Only to me” Killian replied, voice barely a whisper.

***

Evelyn stood by the hospital’s roof terrace, the cold evening wind brushing against her skin. It had been a long shift and she’d come there to clear her head, needing a moment to unwind from the constant chaos of the emergency room. She stared at the blackness the sky offered and the twinkling stars that show though the darkness.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and her eyebrows furrowed in surprise. It was Aaron, her elder brother. They hadn’t spoken in months, maybe even a year. She hesitated for a moment before picking up.

“Aaron?” she said, a mix of wariness and hope lining her voice.

“Evelyn”, he replied, his tone rough as if he’d smoked a pack of cigarettes before dialing her number. There was a long, awkward silence “How....how’s dad doing?”

“He’s the same”, Evelyn replied leaning against the cold steel railing. “What about you? Where are you?”

There was a moment of silence for a while and Evelyn could only hear faint breathing at the other side of the line.

After a while he responded, “Don’t worry, Evie. I’ll take care of you and dad. I’m expecting some money soon and it can support dad’s bill for ten years. You wouldn’t have to suffer any more, okay?”

“Aaron, are you okay?” Evelyn repeated worry more evident in her voice this time. Even the thought of him in trouble ate away at her mind as he was the only family she had who was well and sound.

“Please don’t get into any trouble?”

Once again, silence ensued and she could hear the stiff breathing sound of smoking from the line. “I’ll call you soon, alright? Just hang in there. And tell Dad…” He hesitated, as if the words were caught in his throat. “Tell him I’m doing my best.”

“Always.” She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “Take care, Aaron.”

“You too, little sis,” he murmured before the line went dead, leaving Evelyn with the fading warmth of a connection that always seemed just out of reach. She stared out into the night, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken fears, wishing she could believe him, wishing things could go back to the way they used to be.

***

Elsewhere in a dimly lit warehouse on the outskirts of the city, Killian Blackwood’s boys had finally caught the little spy who had betrayed him and almost caused his death - James

Killian remembered saving his life five years ago and he pledged his life to the Blackwood’s familia. But then he betrayed him and sold him out to his sworn rival. That itself was unforgivable.

The metal door creaked open and James was dragged in, kicking and screaming, by two of Killian’s enforcers. He looked like a ghost. His shin was pale and slick with sweat and his eyes darted around wildly like he was searching for an escape that wasn’t there. The ware house smelled of rust and oil and the overhead light cast long haunting shadows across stained the concrete floor.

“Please,” James whimpered, his voice breaking as they threw him to his knees before Killian. “Please, I was desperate! I didn’t mean to betray you! I just needed a solid standing and they offered me something better. I was confused for once, please have mercy.”

Killian sat in a metal chair with his posture relaxed but his eyes burned with a fire that was anything but calm. He studied James for a moment, saying nothing. The silence was suffocating and James began to sob. His tears mingled with the blood that trickled from a split lip.

“Do you know what I hate most?” Killian finally spoke in a smooth voice, almost gentle like a snake’s hiss. “It’s not betrayal itself. It’s the cowardice that follows.”

Shaking his head frantically, he spoke in urgency, “I swear, I’ll make it right! I’ll do anything, please. Just give me another chance!”

“Another chance?” Killian repeated as if tasting the words on his tongue. Then, without warning, he reached into his jacket, pulling a sleek, silver switchblade. In a single swift motion, he drove the blade through James’ hand, pinning it to the floor.

Screams echoed in the vast emptiness of the warehouse.

“Did you think of a second chance when you turned me over?” Killian snarled, pressing his boot against James’ pinned hand. The blade twisted deeper, and James wailed like a wounded animal.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” His frantic cries were now high pitched. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything!”

Killian leaned in close, his breath hot against James ear. “You’re gonna die knowing that you were a snivelling worthless rat.”

The blade moved again and blood splattered across the concrete floor. James’ screams fell silent and the warehouse returned to its original stillness leaving only the sound of Killian’s heavy breathing. He stood there for a minute staring at the lifeless body with eyes that seemed empty, void of any emotions. But in the pit of his stomach, he felt that familiar twist of disgust, not for James, but himself.

***

As Killian returned to his penthouse, he was still covered in blood and his hands trembled ever so slightly. He strode through the darkened hallway with his mind a chaotic blur of violence and regret. It wasn’t until he reached his bedroom that he stopped short. His gaze fell upon the table by the window.

The files were there-Evelyn Carter’s files. They lay scattered across the polished wood and her picture was staring up at him with daunting eyes. He could still hear her voice from that night echoing in his mind. “I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt like this. Can’t you quit?”

His jaws clenched, veins pulsing in his temple as he snatched up the papers, his fingers tightening around them with an almost desperate intensity.

Just then, the door creaked open and Ethan stepped inside. His eyes immediately darted to the papers in Killian’s grip. “You’re looking at those again?” he asked carefully while worried about the blood drying up on Killian’s clothes.

“Dispose of them” Killian ordered in a rough voice as if every word tore at his throat.

Ethan blinked, taken aback. It was just the previous day when Killian ordered for the investment to the hospital to be increased and for a promotion granted to Miss Evelyn. “Are you sure ----“

“I said dispose of them”, Killian repeated, his voice colder. It was obvious there was no room for questioning.

“Understood.” Ethan nodded with an unreadable expression. He took the files and walked out leaving Killian with his thoughts.

Killian sank into the bathtub already prepared. He was a fool to be momentarily distracted. At first, he thought he could just ignore this brimming emotions as just another file on his desk. But every time he tried to push her away, she clawed back into his mind.

She deserved way better than this … better than me. A bitter laugh escaped him. It was such an irony. She saved lives while he takes them way in one swift movement.

It was right to keep her way from everything he stands for.

Yet, despite everything, despite the bloods on his hands and sins on his soul, ho could not stop himself from wanting her – wanting more than the like he had.

And that realization cut deeper than any blade ever could.