New Rules

As she began to work, Alessia felt a strange sense of calm descend over her. This, at least, was familiar territory. Bullet wound or not, a patient was a patient.

An hour later, Alessia emerged from the makeshift operating room, exhausted but triumphant. Sergei would live, though he'd need proper medical care and antibiotics to prevent infection.

Nikolai was waiting for her, a pleased smile on his face. "Well done, doctor. I knew I made the right choice with you."

The praise, coming on the heels of the adrenaline crash, made Alessia's temper flare. "You had no right," she hissed, stepping close to him. "No right to put me in that position. To show up at my workplace. And bring me here with nothing! If you expect me to help your people, you can't expect me to do it with band-aides and chewing gum! It's a miracle your man is still alive."

Nikolai's smile didn't waver. "And yet, he is." A tattooed hand reached up and stroked her jaw. When he took her chin in his thumb and forefinger, Alessia could suppress a shiver. She fought to hold his gaze. "You were magnificent. Even, as you say, with band-aides and chewing gum." He leaned forward, close enough that their breaths entwined. "Saving lives, just as you've always done. Only now, you're saving the right lives."

Alessia felt sick. "The right lives? These are criminals, Nikolai. What you're doing here—what you made me part of—it's wrong."

"Is it?" Nikolai challenged softly. "Tell me, doctor. If I hadn't called you, what would have happened to Sergei? He would have died, yes? And how is that any different from the countless lives you save in your ER?"

"It's completely different!" Alessia protested, but even as she said it, she felt a flicker of doubt.

Nikolai's lips brushed her cheek as he spoke in her ear. "Life is life, Alessia. Death is death. The rest... it's all just details."

Before she could formulate a response, her phone buzzed in the pocket of her scrubs. Nickolai stepped back and dropped her chin, allowing her to answer. He watched as she listened to the person on the other line.

Alessia felt the blood drain from her face after she had exchanged a few words with the person on the other end. When she killed the connection, she glared at Nickolai. "It seems my brother has a visitor. A lovely young woman with a 'charming Russian accent.' What have you done?"

Nikolai's expression was the picture of innocence. "Me? I've done nothing. I simply thought your brother might appreciate some company during his recovery. Hospitals can be so lonely."

The implied threat was clear. Alessia's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You bastard," she whispered.

"Now, now," Nikolai chided gently. "Is that any way to speak to your new employer? Besides, I'm sure Marco is enjoying the company. Yelena can be very... persuasive when she wants to be."

Alessia's mind raced. She wanted nothing more than to rush to the hospital, to make sure Marco was safe. But she knew that wasn't an option. Not now. Not with Nikolai holding all the cards.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, hating the defeat in her voice.

Nikolai's smile widened. "For now? Nothing more than what you've already given. Your skills, your discretion, your loyalty. The rest... well, we'll see how things develop, won't we?"

As Alessia stood there, feeling trapped and powerless, she couldn't help but think of all the choices that had led her to this moment. Each one had seemed so small, so necessary at the time. But now, looking back, she could see the path that had brought her here—to this warehouse, with blood on her hands and a mobster's smile sending chills down her spine.

"Can I go now?" she asked, suddenly desperate to be anywhere but here. "I'd like to visit my brother."

Nikolai nodded magnanimously. "Of course. Alex will drive you back to your car. And Alessia?" He caught her arm as she turned to leave. "Thank you for your service today. You've proven your worth. I look forward to our continued partnership."

Alessia couldn't find any words to answer. She simply stared into his cold grey eyes for several long heartbeats before turning to follow her driver back out of the warehouse.

The drive home was a blur. Alessia's mind kept replaying the events of the day—the surgery, Nikolai's words, the threat to Marco. It all seemed surreal, like a bad dream she couldn't wake up from.

As Alex pulled up to her apartment building, Alessia shook herself out of her daze. "I... I need to check on my brother," she said, half to herself.

The man met her eyes in the rear view mirror. "I thought you might want to clean up first."

Alessia started to argue but then caught sight of her scrub pants and clogs, both covered in dried blood. She hadn't even noticed. She grabbed the door handle and wrenched the heavy door open. "I'll be right back."

Alex only nodded though she thought she saw pity in his expression. The look made her stomach flip in discomfort. If this man pitied her, her situation must be worse than she imagined. And, on the ride here, she had imagined some pretty low spots.

A few minutes later, she was back in the car in clean clothes. The drive to St. Luke's was tense. Alessia's mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. What if this mysterious Russian woman had done something to Marco? How was she going to get herself out of this mess?

As they pulled up to the hospital, Alessia was out of the car before it had fully stopped. She raced through the familiar halls, her heart pounding.

When she reached Marco's room, she paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before pushing open the door.

The scene that greeted her was... surprisingly normal. Marco was propped up in bed, looking better than he had the day before. And sitting beside him, a magazine open on her lap, was a stunningly beautiful woman with long blonde hair.

They both looked up as Alessia entered. Marco's face lit up. "Alessia! You're here!"

The woman stood gracefully, extending a hand. "You must be Marco's sister. I'm Yelena. It's so nice to meet you."

Alessia stared at the offered hand in consternation, her mind struggling to process the scene before her. This woman—Yelena—didn't seem threatening. In fact, she seemed genuinely friendly but who knew her real story.

"I... it's nice to meet you," Alessia managed before dismissing the woman and turning her attention to her brother. "Marco, how are you feeling?"

As Marco launched into a detailed account of his day, peppered with glowing praise for Yelena's company, Alessia found herself relaxing slightly. Maybe she had overreacted. Maybe Nikolai's words had just been a mind game, a way to keep her off balance.

But as Yelena excused herself to "let the siblings catch up," she paused at the door, meeting Alessia's eyes. For just a moment, the friendly mask slipped, revealing something hard and calculating beneath. Then it was gone, replaced by a warm smile as Yelena waved goodbye.

The message was clear. Yelena might be playing nice now, but she was here for a reason. And that reason was to keep Alessia in line.

As Alessia sank into the chair by Marco's bed, listening to him grouse about the nurses waking him up all the time and how bad the food was she felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She had entered this world thinking she could keep it separate from her real life, from the people she loved. But now she realized how naive that had been.

There was no going back. No clear line between her old life and this new, dangerous one. It was all tangled together now, a web of lies and half-truths and unspoken threats.

And at the center of it all was Nikolai Zhukov, pulling the strings with a smile.

Alessia looked at her brother, still talking animatedly despite his injuries, and felt a fierce surge of protectiveness. She had made this choice to keep him safe. And no matter what it cost her—her career, her conscience, her soul—she would see it through.

As she left the hospital later that evening, Alessia's phone buzzed with a text. It was from an unknown number, but she knew instantly who it was from:

"Well done today, doctor. Sergei is resting comfortably. Sleep well."

Alessia stared at the message for a long moment before deleting it. As she climbed into the Uber she had called, she caught sight of her reflection in the rearview mirror. The woman staring back at her looked tired, haunted.

But there was something else there too. A hardness that hadn't been there before. A resolve to do whatever she had to do to keep her brother safe. Whatever Nikolai had planned for her, Alessia would have to adapt.

As she rode home through the darkening city streets, Alessia couldn't shake the feeling that she was now playing a game she didn't understand and one she'd better learn the rules of sooner rather than later.

The question was: how far was she willing to go to win?