Crossroads

The week following her dinner with Nikolai Zhukov passed in a blur of sleepless nights and distracted days. Alessia found herself going through the motions at work, her mind constantly drifting back to the Bratva boss's offer.

During a rare quiet moment in the ER, Alessia retreated to the staff lounge, cradling a cup of lukewarm coffee. She stared unseeing at the TV mounted on the wall, some daytime talk show playing at low volume.

"Earth to Dr. Russo," a voice cut through her reverie. Alessia blinked, focusing on her colleague, Dr. Sarah Chen. "You okay? You've been spacing out a lot lately."

Alessia forced a smile. "Yeah, just... a lot on my mind."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Anything you want to talk about?"

For a moment, Alessia was tempted to confide in her friend. To spill everything about Nikolai, the Bratva, the impossible choice before her. But the words died in her throat. How could she explain without sounding insane? Or worse, without implicating Sarah in something dangerous?

"It's nothing," Alessia lied. "Just some family stuff."

Before Sarah could press further, both their pagers went off simultaneously. "Multiple vehicle collision incoming," Sarah read. "Looks like our break's over."

Grateful for the distraction, Alessia hurried to the ER bay. She could deal with this. This was what she was trained for.

The ambulances arrived in quick succession, sirens wailing. Alessia's training kicked in as she triaged the incoming patients. "31-year-old male, multiple lacerations, possible internal bleeding," the paramedic rattled off as they wheeled in the first victim.

Alessia's hands moved with practiced efficiency as she assessed the patient. "Get me a CBC, chem panel, and type and cross for four units," she barked to a nearby nurse. "And page Dr. Ramirez from general surgery, stat!"

As she worked, the chaos of the ER faded into the background. This was where she belonged, where she could make a real difference. Not in some shady backroom deal with the Russian mafia.

Just as she was finishing up with her third patient, movement near the ER entrance caught her eye. Alessia froze, her breath catching in her throat. It couldn't be...

There, standing near the reception desk, was one of the hulking bodyguards from her dinner with Nikolai. He was dressed in civilian clothes now, but there was no mistaking that build, that shaved head.

Alessia blinked hard, convinced she must be seeing things. When she looked again, the man was gone.

"Dr. Russo?" A nurse's voice snapped her back to reality. "We need you in bay four."

Shaking off her confusion, Alessia hurried to the next patient. She must have imagined it, she told herself. The stress and lack of sleep were getting to her.

Hours later, after the rush from the accident had died down, Alessia found herself in the hospital cafeteria, mechanically spooning bland soup into her mouth. Her mind kept drifting back to the bodyguard she thought she'd seen. Had Nikolai sent someone to watch her?

As she was about to dismiss the idea as paranoia, a chill ran down her spine. There he was again, sitting at a table across the cafeteria, pretending to read a newspaper. This time, there was no doubt. The sickle tattoo on his neck a dead giveaway.

Alessia's appetite vanished. She dumped her half-eaten soup in the trash and hurried back to the ER, her heart pounding. This changed everything. If Nikolai was having her followed before she'd even accepted the job, what did that mean? The claim of letting her walk away when she decided to became a whole lot less believable. Was he really even giving her a choice?

The rest of her shift passed in a haze of anxiety. By the time she clocked out, Alessia had all but decided to turn down Nikolai's offer. The risks were too great, the ethical compromise too severe. She didn't know anything yet. It was the only hope she had—quit before she started.

She was halfway to her car when her phone rang. Digging it out of her pocket, she looked at the unfamiliar number. She started to ignore it , but something suddenly twisting in her gut made her answer.

"Hello?"

"Is this Dr. Alessia Russo?" A stern, official-sounding voice asked.

"Yes, this is she."

"This is Officer Daniels from the State Correctional Facility. I'm calling about your brother, Marco Russo."

Alessia's blood ran cold. "What... what about Marco?"

"There's been an incident. Your brother was seriously injured in an altercation with another inmate. He's been transferred to St. Luke's Hospital due to the severity of his injuries."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Alessia barely heard the rest of what the officer said, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. "I'll meet you there," she managed to say before hanging up.

The drive to St. Luke's was a blur. Alessia found herself in the ICU waiting room, pacing back and forth as she waited for news. When a doctor finally approached her, his grave expression made her heart sink.

"Dr. Russo?" He extended his hand. "I'm Dr. Patel. I've been overseeing your brother's care."

Alessia shook his hand automatically. "How is he?"

Dr. Patel's face softened with sympathy. "Your brother suffered severe head trauma and internal injuries. We've managed to stabilize him for now, but..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "The next 24 to 48 hours will be critical. I want to be honest with you - his condition is extremely serious."

Alessia felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. She was a doctor; she knew what "extremely serious" meant in cases like this. "Can I see him?"

Dr. Patel nodded. "Of course. Follow me."

Nothing could have prepared Alessia for the sight of her little brother lying in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking from his body, his face swollen and bruised almost beyond recognition. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only reassurance that Marco was still with her.

Alessia sank into the chair beside the bed, taking Marco's hand gently in hers. "Oh, Marco," she whispered, her voice breaking. "What happened to you?"

As she sat there, holding her brother's hand and listening to the rhythmic beep of the machines keeping him alive, Alessia's mind raced. She thought of all the times she'd bailed Marco out of trouble, of the mountains of debt she'd accrued trying to keep him out of prison. And now, here he was, fighting for his life because she hadn't been able to protect him.

The image of Nikolai Zhukov swam before her eyes. His offer, so tempting and terrifying, suddenly seemed like the only lifeline she had left. With that kind of money, she could get Marco the best care, the best lawyers. She could make sure nothing like this ever happened to him again.

But more than that, she realized with a sudden clarity, she needed the protection the Bratva could offer. Because this wasn't just some random prison fight. The timing was too convenient, the injuries too severe. This was a message.

Alessia's hand tightened around Marco's. She'd been naive to think she could simply walk away from Nikolai's offer. She was already in too deep, whether she liked it or not.

With a trembling hand, Alessia reached for her phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found the number Nikolai had given her. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a long moment.

"I'm sorry, Marco," she whispered, looking at her brother's battered face. "I don't have a choice anymore."

She pressed send.

The phone rang once, twice. On the third ring, a familiar, accented voice answered. "Dr. Russo. So good to hear from you."

Alessia took a deep breath, steeling herself. There was no going back now. "Mr. Zhukov - Nikolai. I've made my decision. I'm in."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Alessia could almost hear the smile in Nikolai's voice when he spoke again. "Excellent. I'm glad you've come to see things our way. We have much to discuss. I will send Ivan for you in the morning at nine."

Alessia rubbed her forehead where a headache was starting to bloom. "I'm afraid I won't be there. I'm at St. Luke's. My brother, he's," her voice cracked. "He's had an accident. I need to be here with him."

"I am so sorry to hear this, Alessia." Nikolai's voice sounded truly pained. "Do you need anything?"

I need my brother to be okay, she thought. "No, I'll be fine."

"Should you change your mind, call me anytime. You are sem'ya now, family."

As Alessia ended the call, she felt a strange mix of dread and relief wash over her. She'd just made a deal with the devil, but at least now she had a fighting chance.

She squeezed Marco's hand one more time before standing. She needed to talk to Dr. Patel, call her work to take leave until Marco was out of the woods. Alessia cast one last look at her brother before leaving the room. "I'll fix this, Marco," she promised. "Whatever it takes."

As she walked out of the ICU, Alessia's phone buzzed with a text. An address, followed by a time. Tomorrow night.

It was happening. There was no turning back now.

Alessia squared her shoulders and headed for the exit. She had always prided herself on saving lives, on being one of the good guys. Now, she was about to step into a world of shadows and danger, all for the sake of her brother.

As she pushed through the hospital doors into the cool night air, Alessia couldn't help but wonder: In trying to save her brother, was she about to lose herself?

The weight of her decision settled over her like a heavy cloak as she made her way to the nurses' station. She had just aligned herself with the Russian mafia. Everything she had worked for, everything she believed in, was now at risk. But as she thought of Marco lying broken in that hospital bed, she knew she had no choice.

The blazing noonday sun blinded her despite her dark glasses as Alessia dragged herself to her car. Marco had stayed stable through the night so she decided to head home for a nap and to put a bag together. As she turned over the engine, her mind already raced with what this new arrangement would entail and what had happened to her brother. He looked so small and vulnerable in the hospital bed, especially with the big metal cuff tethering him to the railing of the bed. It was almost too much to take.

As she pulled out of the hospital parking lot, Alessia caught sight of a black SUV in her rearview mirror. It could have been anyone, but somehow, she knew. They were watching her. Perhaps they always had been but she hadn't thought to look until she saw the mountain of a man in the hospital yesterday.

The drive home was a blur of cars, buildings, and racing thoughts. By the time Alessia reached her apartment, she felt as if she had aged years in a single night. She mechanically went through her nightly routine even though it was the middle of the day - shower, pajamas, a glass of wine she barely tasted.

As she crawled into bed, exhaustion finally catching up with her, Alessia's phone buzzed one last time. Another text, this one from an unknown number:

"Do not worry for your brother, Alessia. We will watch over him. Sleep well."

Alessia stared at the message for a long moment before turning off her phone. As she lay in the darkness, listening to the distant sounds of the city, she couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into.

But there was no going back now. For better or worse, her fate was sealed. The die was cast. The game was set. And Alessia Russo, respected ER doctor, was now irreversibly entwined with the dangerous world of the Russian Bratva.

As sleep finally claimed her, Alessia's last conscious thought was of Marco. Whatever came next, whatever price she had to pay, it would be worth it if she could keep her brother safe.

Alessia slept fitfully, unaware of the eyes watching her building, of the plans already in motion. Her old life was over. A new, dangerous chapter was about to begin.

And somewhere in the city, Nikolai Zhukov raised a glass in silent toast to his newest acquisition. Dr. Alessia Russo was proving to be much more intriguing, and much lovelier, than he had expected when he'd heard that there was a doctor who had reached out to them. He smiled into his glass. The game was just beginning, and he loved a good challenge.