CHAPTER 6: CAPTIVE TITAN

TRISTAN'S POV

The antiseptic scent was gone after the shower, a stubborn ghost of the hospital I was finally leaving behind. Six years. Six years of hell, disguised as higher education. Ironic, considering I just scrubbed away the last vestiges of my stint as "Titan."

One week. It had been one week since the bachelorette party, one week since I raked in a cool five million dollars shaking my… assets… at a bunch of screaming women. And tonight? Tonight was my last night as a resident.

I toweled off, catching my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. My body, honed by years of disciplined training and rigorous… extracurricular activities, was the only thing that hadn't completely withered during my residency. I couldn’t help but acknowledge the sculpted physique. All those late-night gym sessions, fuelled by stress and desperation, had paid off. They certainly helped me float through the last six months, the double life compartmentalized with alarming ease.

A sudden shriek pierced the quiet of the staff bathroom. I turned to see Eleanor, one of my colleagues, standing frozen in the doorway, hands clamped over her eyes.

"Tristan! What on earth?" she squeaked.

I chuckled, running a hand through my still-damp hair.

"Just finished my last shower here. Figured I take advantage of the facilities one last time. You know, for old time's sake."

I couldn't resist a little teasing. "Although," I added, a smirk playing on my lips, "I wouldn't mind if you took a peek. Consider it a farewell gift."

Her blush deepened, spreading from her cheeks to her neck. She stammered something unintelligible and fled, leaving me chuckling and shaking my head. Eleanor was always easily flustered.

Her hasty retreat left me chuckling. Eleanor was a good doctor, dedicated and intelligent, but endearingly naive. I shook my head, pulling on my comfortable clothes – gray sweatpants, gray sleeveless hoodie, and white sneakers. I looked like the guy you see grabbing coffee on a Sunday morning, a far cry from the starched white coat of Dr. Tristan Hayes or the oiled muscles and chains of Titan.

The money from my Titan gigs had been a lifeline, a secret safety net that allowed me to focus on my career without the constant worry of crippling debt. It was a double life, a stark contrast between the sterile halls of the hospital and the raucous energy of the club. I had navigated it with a careful precision, compartmentalizing the two worlds, never letting them bleed into each other.

As I packed my bag, the weight of the past few years settled on my shoulders. The exhaustion was palpable, but so was the relief. Freedom. I could finally breathe.

I definitely deserved a vacation. Five million dollars kind of screamed "vacation," didn't it? I mentally promised myself I will browse potential destinations tonight, maybe even book something. A beach, maybe. Somewhere far, far away from hospitals, clubs and… bachelorette parties.

Stepping out of the staff room, I felt the familiar hum of the hospital, a constant thrum of activity that never truly ceased. The hospital corridors were still buzzing with activity, even this late. Other residents, savoring their last moments under this roof.

Some of the nurses I passed gasped and blushed, catching me in something other than my doctor's coat. A few brazenly ogled. I offered a wave and a smile, a genuine goodbye to this chapter of my life. I knew they were used to seeing me in my scrubs, my hair neatly styled, my demeanor professional. The casual, relaxed version of me seemed to catch them off guard. I gave them a wave and a smile, a silent goodbye.

Stepping outside, I inhaled the cool night air, a stark contrast to the sterile, antiseptic-laden atmosphere within the hospital walls. The city hummed around me, alive with an energy that felt invigorating. I pulled out my phone, ready to book a cab. Rush hour meant it might take a while.

To kill time, I walked towards the small park adjacent to the hospital. It had been my sanctuary for the past two years, a green oasis where I could decompress and gather my thoughts. This park held so many memories, both good and bad. Here, I had celebrated successful surgeries, mourned lost patients, and even shared a few stolen kisses with a cute nurse who transferred to another clinic after getting married. It was a place of reflection, a place where I felt grounded.

Tonight was likely the last time I will see it. After certification, I planned to relocate to the state capital, aiming for a position at the prestigious University Hospital. My future stretched out before me, full of possibilities. My dreams – it was all within reach. I smiled, feeling a surge of optimism I hadn't felt in months.

I plugged in my earbuds, letting the music wash over me. The park was peaceful, the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant city sounded a soothing backdrop.

That's when the black SUV screeched to a halt in front of me.

"What the fuck?"

My blood turned to ice. This wasn’t the Uber I had booked. Before I could fully register the threat, the doors swung open, and men in black masks spilled out. They moved with a frightening efficiency, their movements precise and practiced.

"Take him now!" said by one of the men in black.

"Like I will let that happen!" I shouted trying to ran away.

Instinct took over. I stumbled back, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I tried to run, but they were too fast. One of them grabbed me, his grip was like steel. I fought back, kicking and struggling, I knocked down a few but their numbers overwhelmed me.

"Take your hands off me!" I yelled.

Then, a cloth pressed against my mouth and nose. A sickly sweet smell filled my nostrils, a chloroform. I tried to hold my breath, but it was no use. My head swam, my limbs grew heavy, and the world began to spin.

I feel them dragging me towards the SUV, their masked faces blurring into my view. Desperate, I tried to scream, but only a muffled groan escaped my lips. The last thing I saw before the darkness consumed me was the familiar silhouette of the hospital in the distance, a beacon of hope that I was rapidly leaving behind.

I woke up to the smell of mildew and dust. My head throbbed, and my vision swam. I was standing but my wrists are bound by a thick rope tied to two posts on each side of mine, my body stiff and aching.

Where was I?

Panic clawed at my throat. I was in a dark room, the only source of light a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. The air was thick with a musty odor that made my stomach churn.

Fear turned to a cold, hard knot in my stomach. This wasn't random mugging. This was something else, something far more sinister.

I strained against the ropes, but they were too tight. My muscles burned with the effort, but I couldn't budge them. I scanned the room, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a basement, a dilapidated space with cracked walls and a dirt floor. There were no windows, no escape.

A wave of despair washed over me. Who had done this? And why?

My mind raced, trying to piece together the events of the night. The SUV, the masked men, the drug-laced cloth… but why? I hadn't made any enemies, not that I knew of. My life was meticulously organized, carefully compartmentalized. I was a doctor, a respected member of the community. I didn't run with criminals or engage in shady dealings.

Unless…

My stomach lurched. Titan. Could it be related to my double life? Has someone discovered my secret? Had I crossed the wrong person at the club?

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. The world of exotic dancing was filled with dangerous characters, jealous rivals, and disgruntled clients. Has one of them decided to seek revenge?

The possibility was terrifying. I had always been careful, always kept my two lives separate. But maybe, just maybe, I had underestimated the risk.

The sound of footsteps broke through my panicked thoughts. They were heavy, deliberate, and growing closer. My heart pounded in my chest.

The door creaked open, and a figure emerged from the darkness. He was tall and imposing, his face obscured by a mask. He moved with a quiet confidence that sent a chill down my spine.

"Good evening, Tristan," he said, his voice low and menacing. "It's nice to finally meet you."