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The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

Chapter 7 No.7

Word Count: 626    |    Released on: 12/01/2026

ing his voice. "Give her to me, and my ports in th

opped br

ns of dollars a year. Fo

dering it. He looked at Isela again, his gaze

herself forward on her knees. "Mr. C

atever twisted intimacy t

rdened. A mask of

yebrow. "Nothing happened last ni

er. He was erasi

attered. He was

ark of a sound. "See? He'

again. This time, they

t standing there, watching her be

hit her like a

assets. If she went into that helicopte

to be

oor. The agent on her right r

dead weight. As she

amped her teeth onto the agent's w

rd. She tasted

screamed a

e didn't try to run. She knew

ical knife from the

ainst the landing ski

f!" she

She reversed the grip and pressed th

to

't shoot! I need

f blood ran down her neck, staining th

t Jairo. Strai

the blade at her throat. "If you let him take me,

owed. He took a ste

is about sovereignty. If Jairo can land here and take who he wants, when he wants

le

blades seemed

he had framed her survival as

started

ythmic a

ued," Cli

lked right past Jairo, righ

d in fron

the knife

" she whispered,

ed. "Or cut your throat. But d

eyes. She saw the ab

y lowered

lade from her hand by the sharp en

ned to

sta

gun. He aimed it

stake, Clinton. Ove

said, tossing the knife overboard.

-

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The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast
The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast
“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.”