Page 7 of The Criminal’s Cure

I’m a runner.

Distance running is my specialty, but I can be pretty fast when I need to be. I could probably make it at least a few miles away before anyone even noticed I was gone, if I could just somehow make it outside.

Dante dumped me off in a second story guest room, so it’s not as simple as just climbing out.

There are no trees close by, or even a bush I could aim to land on.

I could tie a few bed sheets together and try to shimmy down, but I’m doubtful that would actually work in real life.

It seems like just a movie thing. I could jump, but that alone could break my leg, or worse, and then any chance I have of running would be gone.

God, what am I even saying? Even if I made it out, I don’t have the slightest idea where I am. Somewhere within an hour of the hospital, but that doesn’t give me much to go on.

This place is like a fortress. From the bedroom window, I have an expansive view of the property, and in other circumstances, I might think it was pretty.

Thick towering trees line the area and there’s even a little pond with a paddle boat tied to a dock just down the way.

Right underneath my window is a huge pool with crystal clear water and a few errant floating toys and dive sticks scattered around.

The driveway is lined with intricate, colorful cobblestone that looks like something out of a Spanish village, which matches the stonework and stucco on the eves of the house.

It wasn’t like I got a proper tour, but from what I saw so far, I can tell it’s enormous.

At the end of the road, a massive wrought iron gate sits closed.

Probably locked tight. Even if it wasn’t, there are four guards posted with heavy artillery strapped to their chests, and I doubt I’d make it far.

Not to mention that, with connections like Roman’s, I’d probably have to hide out somewhere in the wilderness to avoid him. To be fair, a cave out in the middle of nowhere sounds more appealing than my current situation. At least, I know what I’m dealing with out there.

Inside these walls, it’s a whole different ball game.

I know virtually nothing about organized crime, but I’ve heard enough to know that I’m in major trouble here.

Roman is the kind of man nightmares are made of, and I have no idea what he’s capable of.

My anger towards him has slowly morphed into fear as the gravity of my situation sets in.

Any hope I had of him coming to his senses and letting me go is long gone.

It’s all part of his game.

Maybe someone will come looking for me when I don’t show up for work tomorrow.

Wait . They won’t because Joe bought some time and told them I was going to be out of town.

And I just spoke with my mom yesterday, so she won’t be suspicious for at least a few more days.

My stomach turns at the thought of what a man like Roman Molanari could do to me in that amount of time.

I glance at the window, weighing my chances once again. Maybe if I took a running start and dove out the window, I could make it to the pool, letting water break my fall. At this point, I’m dying either way, so I might as well give it a shot.

I try to twist the lock, but it’s so tight I can’t maneuver it. Right now, it’s my only option, so I grip it with all my strength and try again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Roman’s voice sends a chill down my spine. He caught me red handed unlatching the window. I didn’t hear the door open, but suddenly he’s only steps away from me.

“Do what?” I swallow, my throat tight. “It’s stuffy in here. I needed some fresh air.”

He stands close to me, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve truly looked at him since all of this began.

It’s his eyes that I notice first—piercing, icy blues that look like they’re staring straight into the depths of my soul.

His sharp jawline is flecked with facial hair, and his full lips press together in an arrogant smirk.

A black t-shirt stretches across his thick, broad shoulders, and he fills out every inch of his larger-than-life frame.

Rippling muscles, an impressive collection of tattoos, and an ego that barely fits in this room.

Roman is gorgeous in an intimidating sort of way, and when he arches an eyebrow in my direction with a taunting look on his face, I almost forgot what a smug asshole he’s been.

Almost .

He chuckles, striding toward me so slowly that the anticipation is painful. We’re close. Uncomfortably close. Intimately close.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Madison? That you’re the first person who’s tried to open the window and escape?”

When I don’t answer, he continues.

“Let me save you the trouble. It doesn’t end well. Even if you were to get it open, I’ve got two snipers on the roof, plus perimeter security that would make the White House look like an easy target. You wouldn’t make it ten yards without a bullet to your head.”

I have to fight to keep myself collected so he doesn’t see how rattled I truly am. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“What do you want from me?” I ask.

“I came up here to offer you a proposition. And I guess an apology.”

“An apology?” Honestly, I’m shocked he even knows the word.

“Yes.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “I guess I haven’t been as friendly to you as I could have been, especially since you saved Ty’s life. And if you took it that way, I’m sorry.” The way he trips over the words is a dead giveaway that he isn’t used to apologizing.

A sharp laugh escapes my lips.

“Something funny to you?”

“That’s not how you apologize to someone.” I cross my arms over my chest, refusing to back down. Now that I know nothing I do will sway his decision to let me go, I won’t let him walk all over me.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t say that you’re sorry for the way I took something. Apologies are about taking responsibility for something you did, and all you did was pass the blame off to me for how I interpreted it.”

He scoffs. “You’ve got a lot of nerve for a woman bargaining for her life.”

“And you’ve got a lot of nerve for a man who needs me and my medical degree to take care of his son.”

Roman stiffens. “I guess that brings me to my next point.”

“The proposition.”

He nods. Fantastic. Now what is he going to make me do?

“You’ve got $200,000 in school loan debt.”

“Do I even want to know how you found that out?”

He ignores me. “I want you to live here and work for me for the next six months. Rehabbing Ty and dealing with any other potential…emergencies that might come up. You’d need to stay here, but obviously your room and board would be covered in addition to any payment.

If you agree, I’ll make sure that your debt disappears and you have your pick off positions at St. Luke’s once that six months is up. ”

I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Potential emergencies . Is he serious? He wants me to patch up his guys after more issues like today? I don’t know if my nerves can handle another day like this one.

Still, the amount of money he’s talking about is sickening, and in such a short time frame. It’s life changing, and I’ve eaten just enough Top Ramen the last few weeks to entertain it.

“You have that kind of pull at St. Luke’s, but you won’t take your son there?”

“St. Luke’s and I have a history.” He clenches his jaw. “None of that matters, though. Trust me, they’ll do whatever I want.”

I don’t know what’s crazier—his offer or the fact that I’m actually considering it.

“What exactly would this entail?” I ask cautiously.

“Exactly what I said. My team has unique needs that come up from time to time. I need someone who is good under pressure, understands discretion, and has enough medical knowledge to make do.”

I didn’t go to medical school to make do . I went to be a trauma surgeon. To save lives. But the idea of having my loans paid for is too attractive to ignore. Wanting to prove myself to my parents, I’ve been adamant about putting myself through medical school and now I’m drowning under bills.

It’s not like Roman would be paying me for sex or as some sort of escort. I’d still technically be using my degree and have a legitimate job, but how exactly would I explain this to my parents? To my friends?

“I also need someone that I can trust with Ty. Regardless of how I acted today, I appreciate what you’ve done for him.

Not just removing the bullet, but the way you were with him earlier.

You really put him at ease. He’s comfortable with you, and if I have to find someone else, it’ll be like starting from the beginning.

You and I both know that wasting time isn’t in his best interest.”

Jesus, what is wrong with me? Am I actually considering this?

Less than five hours ago, the man kidnapped me and held me here against my will.

The more time I spend with Roman, the more entangled in his web I get—a deceitful, unlawful, dangerous web.

At best, the things he’s involved in are illegal. At worst, they’ll cost me my life.

Although, I’m still not sure that isn’t my fate, regardless. “What happens if I don’t agree?”

Roman stiffens, eyeing me carefully. If I had to guess, he was expecting me to jump at the offer without any hesitation, and I’ve caught him off guard.

“If you don’t want to, you can leave here tonight and we’ll go our separate ways.

But I will have constant eyes on you to be sure that you’re not going to the police about anything that happened today.

And you can forget about getting a permanent position at St. Luke’s. ”

“You’re serious?” I ask. “How did your compromise turn into blackmail?”

“I told you. My top priority is the safety of my son, and I will stop at nothing to make sure of that.” His face hardens.

“You know my terms. When you’ve made your decision, I’ll be downstairs.

” He hesitates, then adds, “I sent someone to your apartment to get you a change of clothes. I didn't think you’d want to wear those all day.”

The door slams sharply behind him and I jump.

I can’t help but laugh. It’s like he truly believes that sending someone to my house to get me clothes is a thoughtful gesture, not an insane invasion of privacy and gross show of force.

Deep down, he wants me to know that he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

I should expect nothing less from what he is showing me so far. The man is infuriating, but he’s smart. He knows that the money and positioning is too good for me to refuse.

He presented it as a choice, but is it really one?

I don’t think so.