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Summary
Alexis Rhodes was three years into her surgical residency when her world collapsed in under seventy-two hours when her brother owed money to the wrong people. She became the payment.
The man they call the Supreme King doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't repeat himself. He looked through every body in that room like they were furniture....and then he looked at her.
Now she lives inside his compound, sleeps behind a locked door, and stitches up killers at two in the morning with hands that were supposed to save people in operating rooms with proper lighting. She is not a guest. She is not a prisoner. She is something the syndicate doesn't have a word for, and the silence where that word should be is the only space she has left to call her own.
