Ana woke up on a massive California king bed.

A dull ache throbbed in the crook of her arm, where an IV drip of saline was attached.

She blinked, taking in the luxurious furniture of the top-floor VIP suite.

Every single window blind was pulled tightly shut, blocking out the sun.

She ripped the tape off her hand and pulled the IV needle out.

Her bare feet hit the thick carpet as she walked toward the door.

She grabbed the metal handle and twisted.

It didn't budge. The electronic lock clicked from the outside, trapping her inside the suite's master bedroom.

Low voices drifted through the heavy wood, filtering in from the adjoining private living area.

Ana pressed her ear flat against the door, holding her breath.

"Why was the motorcade route leaked?" Auguste's voice was a low, furious growl.

An older man answered. "It was a precision assassination, sir. Disguised as a car crash."

Ana slapped a hand over her mouth.

Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

She was locked in a room with people involved in a deadly power struggle.

"We need to move him," the older man, Elwyn, said. "The hospital is compromised."

"No," Auguste snapped. "My son cannot be moved in this condition. We hold the perimeter."

Elwyn paused. "What about the female doctor inside? Her blood type is too coincidental. She could be a plant."

Silence stretched for two agonizing seconds.

"Run a full background check on her," Auguste ordered. "Dig up everything."

Ana's blood boiled.

She saved his son's life, and he was treating her like a terrorist.

She took a step back in anger, her heel catching the leg of a small side table.

A glass of water tipped over and fell.

It hit the thick carpet with a muffled, heavy thud.

The voices outside stopped instantly.

The silence was deafening.

The electronic lock beeped.

The door flew open, forcing Ana to stumble backward.

Auguste stood in the doorway, his eyes sharp enough to cut glass.

Elwyn stood behind him, his hand reaching inside his suit jacket for a weapon.

Ana forced her spine straight.

"You cannot illegally detain an American citizen!"

Auguste stepped into the room and kicked the door shut behind him.

He walked slowly toward her, backing her into the corner of the room.

He slammed his hand against the wall right next to her head, trapping her.

Ana was forced to tilt her head up.

His scent-dark, aggressive, and overwhelming-filled her lungs.

"If you breathe a single word of what you just heard, you will regret it," he whispered.

Ana bit her lower lip hard, tasting copper.

"I don't care about your mafia gang wars. Let me go back to my job."

Auguste's eyes widened for a fraction of a second at the word 'mafia'.

Then, a dark, cynical smile touched his lips.

He didn't correct her.

"Then you know exactly what kind of man you're dealing with. Behave."

The landline phone on the nightstand suddenly rang, shattering the intense tension between them.

Auguste stepped back, his chest heaving, and picked up the receiver.

His face changed.

He looked at Ana. "Leo is awake. He's asking for you."

Ana followed Auguste down the hallway.

Every agent they passed snapped to attention, their eyes fixed straight ahead.

Auguste pushed open the door to the Pediatric ICU.

A blood-curdling scream tore through the air, vibrating in Ana's teeth.

Leo was thrashing wildly on the hospital bed.

Two nurses were trying to hold his arms down, but the IV in his hand had already ripped loose, dripping blood onto the sheets.

Auguste rushed forward, reaching out to grab his son.

Leo shrieked, batting his father's hands away with pure terror in his eyes.

"Don't touch me!"

The boy was drowning in a severe PTSD flashback.

Ana's medical instincts kicked in, overriding her fear of the men in the room.

She shoved past a nurse and stepped right up to the bed.

She placed both of her hands firmly on Leo's tear-soaked cheeks.

"Leo. Look at me. You are safe." Her voice was steady, warm, and absolute.

Leo's screams hitched in his throat.

He opened his swollen, red eyes and stared at her.

For three seconds, the room was completely still.

Then, Leo's tiny hands shot out, his fingers twisting into the fabric of Ana's white coat.

He buried his face into her chest and sobbed.

"Mommy!"

Ana's entire body went rigid.

Her hands hovered in the air, paralyzed.

She looked up, her eyes wide with shock, straight into Auguste's face.

Auguste's pupils constricted to pinpricks.

His face was a mask of complex, dark emotions.

Ana tried to gently peel the boy's fingers off her coat.

"Sweetheart, I'm just the doctor who gave you blood-"

The moment she pulled back, Leo let out a piercing shriek.

The heart monitor started blaring again.

Leo slammed the back of his head against the pillow, trying to hurt himself.

"Stop!" the ER director yelled. "If his blood pressure spikes, his internal sutures will rupture!"

Auguste grabbed Ana's wrist, his grip bruising.

"Hold him," he ordered through gritted teeth. "Play along."

Ana swallowed the lump in her throat and wrapped her arms tightly around the boy.

She rubbed his back, her voice shaking.

"Mommy is here. I'm not going anywhere."

The magic word worked instantly.

Leo stopped thrashing and wrapped his arms around her neck in a death grip.

The alarms in the room silenced.

Auguste stood at the foot of the bed, watching his son cling to a stranger.

His eyes were dark pools of ink.

Ana shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable angle.

Leo whimpered in his sleep, his grip tightening.

Ana kicked off her shoes and awkwardly climbed onto the narrow hospital bed.

She leaned back against the headboard, letting Leo rest his full weight on her chest.

His breathing finally slowed into a deep sleep.

After twenty minutes, Ana's left arm went completely numb.

"Can you help me lay him flat?" she whispered to Auguste.

Auguste reached out, his large hand hovering over his son's back.

Leo let out a distressed whine in his sleep.

Auguste's hand froze.

He slowly pulled his arm back and looked at Ana with cold indifference.

"Stay exactly where you are."

Ana glared at him, her jaw tight. "Am I supposed to be a human mattress forever?"

Morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, hitting Ana's face.

She opened her eyes, wincing.

Her entire left side was dead, crushed under Leo's weight.

The door swung open.

Auguste marched in, followed by Elwyn and three agents.

He held a clipboard in his hand.

"We are moving out in ten minutes," he announced to the room.

Ana snapped fully awake.

"Are you insane?" she hissed, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't wake the boy. "He can't be moved!"

"The outer perimeter is compromised," Auguste said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Staying here is a death sentence."

"You can't take a patient without the attending physician signing an AMA form!" Ana argued.

Auguste tossed the clipboard onto the foot of the bed.

Ana looked at the paper.

At the bottom was the messy, unmistakable signature of Alistair Cromwell, the hospital's Chief Executive Officer.

Her stomach plummeted.

Two agents stepped forward and carefully lifted Leo off her chest.

The loss of contact woke the boy instantly.

Panic flashed in Leo's eyes, and he reached out, his small fingers grasping for Ana's shirt.

Auguste stepped in, his large hand gently stroking his son's hair.

"Daddy promises Mommy will come find you later," he said softly.

Ana opened her mouth to protest the lie.

Auguste shot her a look so lethal it froze the words in her throat.

Leo sniffled, letting go of her shirt.

The agents placed him into a specialized, enclosed transport wheelchair that hid him entirely from view.

Within seconds, the room was empty.

They left without giving her a phone number, an address, or a backward glance.

Ana sat alone on the wrinkled bedsheets, staring at the dried blood on the floor.

A sudden realization hit her like a physical blow.

Her deal.

The urology exam she forced him to agree to was gone.

"Lying mafia bastard," she muttered, grabbing her hair in frustration.

She rubbed her stiff neck and walked out of the PICU, heading toward the urology department to change her clothes.

Nurses were huddled in the hallways, whispering frantically about the men in black suits who had locked down the building.

Ana kept her head down, turning a corner.

She slammed right into a solid chest.

She looked up and saw Dr. Earnest Hayes, her mentor and department head.

His face was dark with anger.

"Where were you last night, Dr. West? You abandoned your shift. Patients complained."

Ana stammered, her hands sweating. "I was in the ER. I donated blood, and then I got caught up in... a situation."

Hayes pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

His eyes darted down the hallway.

"My office. Now."

Ana followed him, a knot of anxiety twisting in her gut. She needed this fellowship to become a permanent attending.

They walked into his office.

Hayes immediately locked the door and pulled the blinds shut.

The room plunged into dim, oppressive shadows.

Hayes didn't sit behind his desk. He stood right in front of her.

"Do you have any idea who you saved last night?" he asked, his voice slow and deliberate.

Ana bit her lip. "Some Washington mafia boss who pissed off the wrong people?"