Chapter 35-Murder instinct

The man’s eyes widened in shock, but he tried to argue. "Ma'am, I—"

I cut him off, my gaze boring into him. Whatever he saw there must have convinced him, because he shut his mouth quickly, his horror plain on his face. "This way, ma'am," he muttered.

Before he could lead me away, the doctor caught up, panting and red-faced.

"Okay, time to go back to your room," he said, sounding far too pleased with himself as if this was some minor misunderstanding that could be easily solved.

The man raised a hand to stop him. "Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m taking her home," he said, his tone final. The doctor hesitated, looking between us, but didn’t argue.

I followed the mafia man out of the hospital, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor until we reached the garage. He stopped in front of a sleek black car and turned to me, a puzzled look on his face.

"Aren’t you going to change?" he asked, gesturing vaguely at my hospital gown.

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "No, I’m not. Take me back