Some people find fortune… while some people find a dying criminal on a random Tuesday. "Is this the part where you kill me?" she asks. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He traced her jaw with the blade of the knife. “I’m still mulling it over.” Clover lives a very unlucky life. Getting fired job after job, it’s hard to make ends meet. And as if fate is playing with her, she saves an unconscious man who ends up to be the most dangerous person in town: Phoenix Volkov, the rising don of the underground world. Bad luck got her helping the wrong stranger—worse luck got her accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss. Just like that, their lives became entangled in a mess of bullets and danger.
View MoreClover’s POV
I accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss.
Or at least I am half-sure that I did. Because of course, it’ll just be my fortune to get caught in a big trouble like this.
It all started on a normal evening after my shift ended at my newest minimum wage job.
“Nine hundred fifty… one thousand…” I counted in the dark and slid the bills into neat stacks. I grabbed the tip jar next and dumped the money I collected.
“Sixty-three bucks for today’s tips,” I uttered under my breath with a small tired smile. It’s not bad and it’s good that I got more tips compared to ordinary days. I’ll take this as a win!
While tallying the total money, I heard a sudden thud outside the truck.
“Who’s there?” I asked out loud. No one answered.
That’s weird. It’s almost midnight. The festival has been long done by now and no one is really around at this hour. Maybe it’s just some stray cat.
I was about to shrug it off, thinking it’s just the exhaustion getting to me. I also wanted to go home and rest but a muffled scrape followed, shifting against metal.
At that moment, I had a bad gut feeling. I gulped. Still, my curiosity led me to stand up and reach for the door.
The moment I opened it, my eyes landed on a figure crumpled against the wheel.
“Oh my—” I covered my mouth in a gasp and instantly hopped off the truck.
I knelt in front of the bleeding man. “Sir? Sir, are you okay? Can you hear me?” I tried tapping his face lightly but he did not respond.
Grabbing his wrist, I checked his pulse. “I’ll take you to the hospital—”
His bloody hand suddenly grabbed my arm and I squeaked. He gave me a sharp gaze and gritted out, “No hospitals,” before closing his eyes again.
“But…” I trailed off then checked his side where the blood was oozing out. I took out my handkerchief to press on his wound as I scrolled through my phone’s map for the nearest medical institute.
“Three hours?! The nearest hospital is three hours away?” I blurted out, panic rising through my chest. My fingers started trembling as I attempted to still contact the center.
This man is in a very poor state. His pulse was weak. He needs to be treated as soon as possible. However, before I could actually make a call, his body suddenly went limp.
“Hey! Hey—!” I caught him before he hit the ground. His heavy weight collapsed into my arms.
My previous medical knowledge automatically kicked in.
Airway. Breathing. Circulation.
I slightly tilted his head while I composed myself to remain calm and think properly.
Then, things turned worse when an explosion erupted nearby. There was a loud boom. I looked back and saw a blazing fire a few streets away.
Right then and there, every nerve in my body screamed to move.
I only have a fraction of a second to decide. He won’t make it to the hospital—three hours with the festival traffic is a death sentence. We can’t stay here. Something dangerous was literally in the smoky air.
So I hooked my arms under his and dragged him inside of the ice cream truck. I turned off the cooling system and grabbed whatever blanket I could find to wrap around him.
“Thankfully for you, I am a med school dropout,” I spoke to the passed out guy, trying to ease my nerves as I slid into the driver’s seat to start the engine.
I drove to my house at top speed. I was checking him from the rearview mirror, screaming inside… why did this have to happen to me?!
After half-dragging and half-carrying him from the truck and into my cramped apartment, I placed him on my couch. I was in a daze, all I was thinking about was saving him.
I checked his wound again.
“Gunshot,” I whispered to myself after inspecting it closer. My heart hammered in my chest. “Just my luck,” I said.
Sprinting to the bathroom, I grabbed my emergency kit. I cut his shirt open with scissors. There was a lot of blood on his torso. I tried to repress my fear and turned my brain off for any other thoughts in order to let my instincts take over.
My hands moved swiftly, swabbing the area and ignoring his faint groan. The only light was from my windows. The bullet hadn’t exited.
“Of course not,” I breathed and focused once more.
I’d never done a removal except in one simulation before but I knew I had to risk it.
“Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die,” I kept chanting as I clamped the tweezers. I prayed to all the saints I know and my always absent guardian angel.
Just then, I eased the metal out gently and blood welled again. “Stay with me,” I begged with a whisper.
I packed the wound with a sterile gauze and wrapped it tight with an elastic bandage. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to keep him alive… hopefully. Having a corpse with me would surely lead to losing my job for the third time this month. I still have rent to pay.
As the adrenaline left my body, I slumped down on the floor next to him.
I grabbed the TV remote and turned it on for background noise—anything really, to keep my brain from obsessing over the fact that there was an unconscious, suspiciously dangerous-looking man dozing off in my living room.
I’m still not sure if I’m just hallucinating these events.
Yet it seems like I simply can’t have one thing for tonight.
The news anchor’s voice cut in over flashing red “BREAKING NEWS” text on the screen.
“Tonight’s top story: a violent clash between two major criminal groups erupted downtown earlier this evening. Police sources confirm at least eight in critical condition and twelve dead in what is believed to be an ongoing feud between rival syndicates…”
My hand froze on the remote.
The screen shifted to CCTV footage—it was a gunfire exchange like a scene straight out of a movie. I could barely make out the details… until I saw a tall man in a black shirt and suit jacket fighting in the chaos.
His face was not shown but it clicked for me.
My head turned around slowly to look at the man currently on my couch.
“…reports suspect the mob leader of the notorious Nero Syndicate was severely injured during the exchange...”
Leader. Syndicate. The words echoed over and over.
I feel my blood run cold.The location in the news is near the parking lot I was just at.
Oh no.
This can’t be happening…
Reaching for the phone in my pocket, I stared into the empty space of my run-down house. My mind short-circuited and I felt all my strength leave my body.
After one ring, my call was answered.
“I think I wrongly abducted someone…” I said absent-mindedly.
My friend replied on the other side. “Again?!”
I stared at the man I just saved.
For someone named after luck and hope, I sure am the misfortunate person in the world.
Clover’s POVThey say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach… which is good, because I make really awesome beef stew.“I thought you’re just a maid but you're honestly a good cook,” Cuatro comments with a swallow. “Really? Do you think the Boss will like it?” I asked with a smile and leaned forward on the table, watching him wolf down on his plate.He lifted his head and said, “I haven’t tasted a home-made food in years—this hits different… Nice job, Fork!” He gave me a grin and a thumbs up.I was about to be flattered but my forehead creased at his last remark. “Fork?”Cuatro took a big gulp. “Yeah. Fork. I saw what you did in the security cams, it’s your new nickname,” he chuckled and took another bite. He raised the fork he was using and inspected it. “Never knew our utensils here are that strong. It’s a new discovery thanks to you.” He beams despite his full mouth.I instantly pulled the plate away from him and glared. “I will never cook for you again!”“Aw, c’mon! I’m j
Clover’s POV I transitioned to my newest job pretty quickly. Well, that’s what I say to myself at night. I’m just gonna pretend that this is work and not a bargain for my life. Not to mention, I have no other options. I’m not specially gifted in a lot of areas so I have to use my ordinary brain to come up with a plan if I want to get out of here. “Shipment’s being moved tomorrow night. Do you think the rat would leak information again? Uno doesn’t seem to prioritize finding them,” I heard Cuatro say, munching on his chips, while I pretend to clean the nearby end table. It was Seis who responded to him without lifting his eyes from the book he was reading. “It’s only a matter of time before we narrow down who it is. Besides, there’s a lot of pressing matters going on lately.” “Yeah, I guess…” Cuatro chuckled. “The Talons are definitely not going to sit quietly. They would want such a big haul back. I’m sure they didn’t get the crates for a cheap price.” I lifted the vase, busyi
Clover’s POVThe new chapter of my miserable escapades begins today.“This way,” Dos instructed, gesturing down the hall, after he picked me up from my assigned room.I followed closely behind.“First rule: don’t wander where you’re not told to. You're only allowed in certain areas of the mansion. Keep that in mind,” he says stoically.I nodded, pursing my lips.At least I won't be suffocated in the cramp room anymore.And honestly, the bed space they gave me is something I couldn't have afforded in town. Rents are too high lately—to the point that my captors gave me a better room than my own old house.“You can go here in the kitchen. You're not allowed to cook unless you're asked to but you can access the food to feed yourself whenever you want,” Dos dismissively showed me around.“You should avoid the dining hall, though. Just eat in your room… or in the living room we passed earlier. But don't hang around when the others are here,” he adds.“Got it,” I replied enthusiastically.Th
Phoenix’s POVThis girl is full of surprises, to say the least.Looking back to her over my shoulder, I asked, “What are you dragging your feet for? Follow me.”She looked up with eyes full of hesitation. “Where are you taking me?”“Out,” I simply said.“You’re taking me out?!” She hysterically exclaimed, “I’m still young!”At that moment, I had the urge to let out the biggest sigh of my life.I just know she’s gonna be a headache from here on. Especially with the setup I recently decided for her.“Out of this holding room,” I explained. “Unless you want to stay, of course. You can be locked up here forever.”The girl paused and thought about it deeply. She looks like a grumbling kitten with her creased forehead. I don’t think she could ever harm even an insect.“I thought you said that we should just get this over with,” I added. “That’s what I’m planning to do: end this.”Turning my back to her, I headed towards the door in quick strides. I knew she was gonna follow.“Wait…” she cha
Clover’s POVI slam my trusty fork on the floor. This is the moment where I need to decide whether I should preserve my pride and shame or my own life. It should be an easy choice, right? Except it’s not.“Oh my god,” I groaned, dragging both hands down my face. “I can’t believe I’m really gonna do this…”Biting my nails and bouncing my crossed legs, I gulped. I tried what options I could Breaching the lock and climbing the vent isn’t realistically as possible as television makes them out to be—especially when it’s quite obvious that the syndicate I’m dealing with lives up to what actual mafias are.So with fierce determination, I’ve made up my mind. I marched towards the door and knocked loudly. Then, I screamed, “I demand to see Uno!”Hopefully, this room is not sound-proofed. And now that my head is clearer of foolish desperation, I realize they are most likely monitoring me to some extent. I’m sure I’ll get the message out if I just loudly ask for it.“Tell Uno to see me!” I y
Clover’s POV Perhaps those hours spent lazily binge-watching spy flicks and hero films are not such a waste after all. This is my vindication—or supposedly, that is what I thought. But I just really have to get my reality check every now and then. “Oh, come on!” I groaned as I crouched by the door, trying to pry open even just a little of the seams with the fork I used for my day’s meal (they were merciful enough to feed me decent food). The metal panel was hard to make it budge and I swear the points of this utensil will poke holes in my palm when this is done. Still, I’m not giving up. I’ve wiped my tears and put on my big adult suit. My unfortunate life has taught me that no one is coming to save me. I have to do things on my own like always. Also, I refuse to lay here in the pool of my tears: if I’ll be dying soon, I sure am gonna die trying. However, despite the numerous pep talks I tell myself, it doesn’t automatically make things easier for me. “Why can’t you just co
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