TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS
His eyes widened as he saw her—sprawled, pale, motionless—and the bag hit the floor, oranges rolling wild.
“Ma'am!” he shouted, voice rough, dropping to his knees beside her.
His hands hovered, unsure, then checked her pulse, fast and thready under his fingers.
“Come on, stay with me,” he muttered, panic edging his tone. He fumbled for his phone, dialing quick, his breath hitching as it rang.
Nurse Mirabel picked up, her voice calm but clipped. “Nico, what now?”
She was 31, sharp-eyed, a Cali loyalist who’d stitched Nico up off the books more than a dozen times—bullet grazes, bar brawls, quiet jobs for Jeremy.
Bab Populer