Chapter twelve

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My eyes fluttered open, meeting the green unfamiliar ceiling. The room was spinning, and it felt like someone had grabbed a hammer and hit me with it. You don't have to be a surgeon to know that the symptoms I was going through right now, were the aftermath of being drugged.

My hear started pounding, and I felt a wave of chills rushing down my spine. The dizziness was only making it worse. I've been doing good for such a long time now, I can't let it start happening again.

1,

2,

3.

I took a deep breathe, the sentence don't panic playing through my head, on repeat.
The trembling started slowing down, and I felt my breath steady. I had it under control. I'm proud of you.

I opened my eyes again, this time the spinning had stopped.
I don't know if its instinct, or trauma, but the first thing I did was check my body. I was fully clothed, my eyes searched for any bruising or any signs but luckily nothings were found.

Slowly but surely, I made my way out of the bed.
The room was unfamiliar, nothing I've seen before. It was huge, maybe three sizes bigger than the one in my apartment. The bed was queen sized and covered in beige satin bedsheets.
In front of the bed were two sofa chairs, and a table between them. The windows were big, and had a small sofa attached, if this wasn't a life or death situation, I would've been thinking about how nice it would be to watch the sunset from there.

Next to it were a bookshelf, with all my favorite books.
The walls were a bright shade of green, my favorite color.

It was like this room was designed for me, but no one knew me well enough? At least that's what I thought.

"Do you like it, ángel?"

The voice was way too familiar, the deep dark voice that held so much power, yet not enough to scare.

I turned around from the window and faced the door. There he stood, dressed in a black suit, his hair was freshly cut, and he looked way more put together than weeks ago when he laid on my sofa. He looked different, colder.
"Atlantis" Escaped my lips, it was supposed to be a question but came rather out as a statement.

"As much as I like the nickname you picked, my real name is Xander, Xander Romero"

Romero. Romero. The familiarity of that name struck me as lightning, and there wasn't a single part of my body that wasn't hoping that there were multiple Romero's, and it was all just one big misunderstanding.
"Probably the Romero you're thinking about" He spoke, again assuring that I was right.

The Romero family was well known, they owned the biggest night clubs and hotels in the USA. I remember reading an article about them at the age of sixteen, their success in America and the Latin world was nothing but impressive, but also an illusion. An illusion created to hide what they really did, and the crime that has been going on in the family for generations.

A rush of betrayal reached my body, and the familiar sound in my head was repeating the word stupid. I didn't know what was worse, being trapped in the hands of a member of an alleged mafia family or thinking that I knew him based on the three days we spent together.

"You're a part of the Romero Mafia?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Oh baby, that's an insult" He answered, "I'm the head of the mafia" If I had been stabbed with a knife, that sentence would be him twisting the knife and digging it further in.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breathe, trying my best to take control of my emotions and not say something I'd end up regretting later.
"What do you want from me?" I spoke in a low tone, I felt betrayed, tricked. All kinds of things. I wasn't even scared, or aware of the danger I was in, standing in front of one of the most if not the most dangerous man in the world, I was way too focused on how stupid I was letting him inside my home.

I know It was a reckless thing to do, and that's me, reckless.
I wasn't scared of death, if it meant saving a life, I would sacrifice myself.
A small part of me saw the chance to help as my redemption for the mistake I made months ago, I thought that saving a life would make the beeping sound in my head disappear.

"I want you to be my doctor" He said, so easily, not even one ounce of shame in his tone.
I looked at him, as if he was the craziest man in the world, maybe he was for even letting that sentence slip through his lips.
"I'm not a doctor" I spat, "And if I was, I would never help someone like you".

His eyebrows knitted, as if he wasn't expecting me to be so rude, or harsh.
He was expecting the sweet Luna, the innocent Luna, the stupid Luna.
"Someone like me? You didn't mind saving someone like me" He shot back, taking one step closer.
"Saving you is one thing, helping you is another story, I could never live with the thought of being a part of what you do" I stood my ground.

He laughed, his laugh was dark, and evil.
Nothing with this was even remotely funny, he must be crazy.
"I think we misunderstood each other angel, I wasn't asking you to be my doctor, I was telling you why you're here" His lips pulled to the side, forming a smirk.

"I'm not a doctor" I insisted, I never finished residency, he knew that.
"It doesn't matter, I saw how you saved my life all alone, I know all the awards you've gotten." He insisted back. "You're practically already a surgeon, angel"
"I've vowed to never practice again, and I'm not going to change that" There's no chance of me going back, I won't.

He took another step closer, and although he made me nervous I wasn't going to move, I didn't want to give him that kind of satisfaction.
"I never gave you a choice" Maniac.
"You don't need a doctor, you need a therapist" I said, watching his eyes darken at the words.
"Watch your fucking mouth" Maniac.

I couldn't stand the thought of how fast he switched, and I didn't want to be here a second longer.

"I'm leaving" I said, making my way towards the door, only stopping when a strong grip pulled on my arm.
"I didn't say you could fucking leave" I huffed at how aggressive he was, as I tried to get out of his grip.
"Look, I'm not going to be your doctor, find someone else who's as crazy as you" I said, looking everywhere but him.
"Look at me when you're speaking" He spat, grabbing my chin so I had to look up at him. I hated it, I was only admiring that face weeks ago, and now it was like a nightmare in front of me.

We stood there for what felt like hours, but was only a mere seconds. Staring at each other, the same honey brown eyes looking into my green ones, but these ones were different from the ones who were at my apartment. These ones weren't warm at all, only dark and empty.

"You can't keep me here, people are going to look for me, the police are going to find me"

"And who's going to call the police? Who's going to notice that you're gone?" It felt like he held an arrow, my heart was the center and he had just hit bullseye.

I wasn't going to let him get to me, or even see the effect his words had on me. I faked a smile, luckily for me I had mastered the art of fake smiles at the age of thirteen, for every parent- teacher conference.

"You're right, thats the best part of it all, you can't threaten an orphan, I have nothing to lose so theres nothing you can do to make me be your personal doctor in hell" I spat, holding my smile. His eyebrows knitted together, but then a smile rose on his face. It seemed like he was happy that I was fighting back, psychopath.

"We'll see about that angel" He said, letting go of his grip, and making me stumble back before shouting a Spanish word, suddenly a couple of what seemed to be three guards were inside the room.

"llévala a la cámara de tortura"

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EDIT: I warned you that the mmc is really toxic at the start so please dont continue if you're going to comment stuff like «im done reading» or stuff like that. It's very unnecessary.
-YALW

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