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The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

Chapter 6 No.6

Word Count: 796 | Released on: 12/01/2026

out from under her with a swift kick. Isela hit the meta

le, a knee was presse

agent said int

d around her wrists

leaning man yelled, waving hi

ffs. Her shoulders screamed in protest. He looked

ate busines

ulled a black hood from his belt

hed into suffoc

he agent

toes on the bulkheads, banged her shoulder against doorfr

les. Up stairs. Through noisy eng

f diesel was replaced by the salt

ere ou

was rip

ing from her eyes as the ha

he forward h

dy spinning its rotors

ake her to the ch

rge white umbrella near the edge o

k that was so rare, blood

o Br

The man who owned half the politicians in the hem

lowed. He wiped his mouth with

g over the rotor wash. "This is the

ard. She fell to her knees

rady. Ready for transp

as wearing a white linen suit that looked pri

his Italian loafe

. "Agent Best had a code in his head. A code I n

shouted over the wind. "I

kick

ribs, but it knocked the air out of he

ng to come with us. And my surgeons are going to take you apa

d me no

ro waved his han

the helicopter. The downdraft whipped her hair into

perately. The deck wa

doors to the poo

was smoot

ollier st

rolled-up magazine. He looked like he was stepping o

g at the helicopt

tated. The presence of Clinto

at her. He went to Jairo's table, picked u

ut through the noise. "You're landing military aircraf

ion, Clinton. It doesn't concern y

bottle down. H

landed

e oversized men's shirt she was w

o pity in his eyes. Only a c

mployee," C

untered, his hand hovering n

Isela, "is on my manifest. And nobody leav

Chapter End

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The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

Leo Fairchild Romance

“I was a surgeon on the most luxurious ship in the world, scrubbing my hands until they were raw to forget the name Ye Jiuting and the past I'd left behind. But at 2:15 AM, Room 404 became my graveyard when a federal agent flatlined on my table, and the world I'd built turned into a nightmare. The nurse handed me a syringe she swore was a standard antibiotic, but the ship's medical files had been scrubbed to hide a fatal allergy. Before the body was even cold, the widow was screaming murder, and the ship's foreman, Huston Lyons, was at my throat with a predatory grin. "You killed him, Doctor," Huston sneered, "and on this ship, people like you tend to disappear overboard." When I tried to prove the syringe was clean, Huston's brutal grip forced the needle into my own arm, injecting me with a lethal stimulant that sent my heart into a violent, scorching frenzy. I fled into the bowels of the ship, my vision warping and my lungs burning, while a ship-wide announcement declared a five-million-dollar bounty on my head. Every desperate gambler and debt-ridden crew member was now hunting me like an animal for a chance at a clean slate. I didn't understand how the digital records could lie or why a routine dose had been replaced with poison. Was I a target, or just a convenient scapegoat for a conspiracy much larger than a single death? Just as the mercenaries were about to drag me to a black site, Clinton Collier, the terrifying "King of the Leviathan," stepped out of the shadows and claimed my life as his own. "She is my Caretaker now," he declared, wrapping a black silk ribbon around my neck to mark me as his exclusive property. I had escaped the gallows only to be collared by a monster, but as I felt his madness recede under my touch, I realized that being his only cure was the most dangerous weapon I possessed.”