The morning sun crept through the heavy velvet curtains of the penthouse, hitting Leo's eyes like a sharp needle. He tried to roll over, but a shot of white-hot pain flared through his lower back and hips. He let out a muffled groan, his fingers clutching the silk sheets. His body felt heavy, as if he had been crushed and put back together again.
"Don't move," a deep, gravelly voice commanded.
Leo froze. Dante was sitting up in bed next to him, leaning against the headboard with a tablet in his hand. He looked perfectly fine—rested, sharp, and dangerous—while Leo felt like he had been through a war.
"I... I have to get up," Leo whispered, his voice still raspy from crying the night before. "I have a morning shift. The hospital... they'll notice if I'm not there."
Dante didn't even look up from his screen. "I already called them. I told your Chief of Surgery that you had a 'family emergency' and won't be in for the next two days."
Leo's eyes snapped open wide. He tried to sit up, ignoring the ache in his muscles. "You did what? Dante, you can't just call my boss! That's my career! You're making me look unprofessional."
Dante finally turned his head. His dark eyes were cold, boring into Leo's soul. "You think I care about your 'professionalism'? Look at yourself, Leo. You can barely breathe without wincing. You think you can stand in an operating room for eight hours today? You'd drop the scalpel before the first incision."
Leo looked down at his own arms. They were covered in faint red marks from where Dante had pinned him against the concrete wall. His skin felt sensitive, even to the touch of the sheets. He knew Dante was right, but the loss of control made him feel small.
"You're locking me away," Leo said, his voice trembling. "You're turning me into a prisoner."
Dante set the tablet aside and crawled over the bed, looming over Leo like a predator. He placed one large, warm hand on Leo's stomach, his thumb tracing the line of Leo's hip. "I'm keeping you safe. Yesterday, you learned how to shoot. Last night, you learned who owns your body. Today, you learn how to rest."
Dante leaned down, his lips brushing against Leo's forehead in a gesture that was surprisingly soft. "I sent one of my men to your apartment. He's bringing your clothes and your books here. You won't be going back there, Leo. This is your home now."
"My apartment? Dante, that's too much!" Leo cried out, trying to push Dante's chest away. "I have a life! I have friends!"
"Your friends don't know the Devil," Dante growled, his grip on Leo's hip tightening just enough to remind him of the power difference between them. "And I don't want them near what is mine. You wanted to be a Mafia Boss's doctor? This is the price. You give up the world, and in exchange, I give you everything."
Dante stood up and walked toward the bathroom, his muscular back covered in scars. He stopped at the door and looked back. "The maid will bring you breakfast. Eat all of it. If I find out you're trying to starve yourself because you're angry, I'll find a much more 'painful' way to feed you. Do you understand?"
Leo bit his lip, hot tears of frustration stinging his eyes. He was trapped in a golden cage, surrounded by silk and wealth, but he had never felt more powerless.
"Yes, Dante," Leo whispered.
"Good boy," Dante replied, the ghost of a smirk on his face before the bathroom door closed.
Leo sank back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. He was the most talented surgeon in the city, but in this room, he was just a prize. He belonged to the Devil, and the Devil wasn't planning on letting him go.