The Don's Dangerous Addiction

Morning light poured through the floor to ceiling windows and spread across the cold grey marble floor. Pale. Like an operating room light.

Avery sat up, her body aching. Her eyes swept the room.

No photos. No plants. No decoration at all. Grey white walls, metal trim. So empty it made her chest tighten.

Last night's memories crashed back. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

Sensor lights in the hallway flicked on as she walked, then died behind her. Every door looked the same. Quiet. Endless. Like being sealed off from the world.

At the end of the hall, two black suited guards blocked her way.

"Mr. Kessler said you shouldn't wander around."

Avery stopped. "I need access to Mr. Kessler's complete medical records. I can't make a treatment plan without his full history and medication records. That means going back to my clinic-"

"Anything your clinic has, we have here."

The guard cut her off.

"And any resource Mr. Kessler needs for treatment? We have it here too. Just tell us what you need."

Her fingertips went cold. All the arguments she'd prepared died on her tongue.

After changing, the guards led her to the study.

The study was dim. Dominic leaned back in a leather chair, dark circles under his eyes. A coin turned slowly between his fingers.

When he heard her footsteps, he didn't even look up.

"Come here."

Avery walked over. Her phone sat on the desk, sealed inside a clear plastic bag.

She reached for it. His hand landed on the bag first.

"My caretaker might call the police if she can't reach me."

"The police?" He finally looked up, eyes sliding over her face. "Are you threatening me?"

"Stating a fact."

He stared at her for a few seconds. Then he smiled. The smile didn't reach his eyes. He tapped the bag lightly with his fingers.

"Fine. You can call." He tilted his chin toward a small black box on the corner of the desk. A red light glowed on it. "Speaker. I want to hear every word."

He leaned back. The coin started spinning again. "After you're done, you're going to tell me why you planted a listening device in my car last night."

The air froze for a heartbeat.

Avery's face didn't change, but her heart dropped. He knew. He'd known all along.

She was silent for three seconds. Then she tore open the bag, turned on speaker, and dialed her caretaker, Kate.

"Avery! Where are you-" Kate's voice cracked, like she'd been crying.

"Kate, listen." Avery cut her off. "I have an urgent project. I'll be gone a few days. Follow Protocol Three for the 'patient.' Tell Julian I'll pay the fees on time."

"Got it, but someone came by today..." Kate lowered her voice. "Said he was your colleague. Asked which school Dorothea goes to. I didn't tell him, but he waited downstairs for a long time before leaving."

Avery's fingers tightened on the phone. "What did he look like?"

"Mask and hat. I couldn't see his face. Avery, I'm scared-"

"Follow the protocol. Don't open the door."

She hung up.

She set the phone down and looked up. Dominic's eyes were on her.

"A child?" His eyes narrowed."I planted the device because my mentor told me to." Avery took a deep breath. "He said your previous treatments all fell through. He needed to know your real condition."

"You think I believe that?"

"You don't have to. But it's the truth."

"Wenger." He repeated the name like he was tasting it. "Your mentor. The one who recommended you to me."

"Yes."

"So he planned to use you as a pawn from the start?"

"I'm not a pawn." Avery's voice steadied.

"I agreed to the listening device because I need to track your progress. A patient who won't cooperate? The best treatment plan in the world is worthless. I need data. Not his trust."

Dominic watched her for a long moment. Then he stood, walked around the desk, and stopped right in front of her.

"Interesting." He tilted his head down, voice low.

"But I don't like being played for a fool. I'll deal with Wenger. As for you-"

He stepped closer.

"The listening device? You owe me one."

Avery didn't move back. "How do I pay it back?"

"You'll find out soon enough." He stepped away. "Now go get ready. First official treatment starts in ten minutes."

He turned toward the door. As he passed her, he paused.

"And by the way. What's Protocol Three?"

Avery didn't answer.

He didn't wait. He pushed the door open and walked out.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, then faded.

Avery stood there, palms slick with cold sweat.

Protocol Three was the last line she'd left for her caretaker. When Dorothea's episodes became uncontrollable, use a strong sedative and lock the door from the outside. The last resort she never wanted to use. The only way to keep her daughter from hurting herself.

But right now, her mind was stuck on something else.

The person in the mask. The one who asked about Dorothea's school.

She turned. Her eyes caught the corner of the desk. The little red light was still on.

Recording.

Every word she'd said since walking in had been recorded. Including the part where she admitted to the listening device.

The door opened again.

Dominic stepped back in, tossed a folder on the desk, and stayed in the doorway.

"You said you need data." He paused.

"That's Wenger's medication and lab records from the last seven years. Look at page thirty eight."

He didn't explain further. He left.

Avery stared at the folder. She walked over and opened it.

Page thirty eight.

Just one black and white photo. Poorly printed. An interior shot of a lab. A row of numbered tags hung on the wall. Her eyes landed on one of them.

030.

Her fingers stopped moving.

030... She'd seen that number somewhere in Julian's records too.

She didn't have time to figure out what it meant. She flipped straight to the last page.

Unlike the others, this page had no photos. Even the table was handwritten. Neat handwriting.

Three columns: Name, Number, Notes.

Her eyes scanned down and stopped on the seventh row.

Avery St. Clair.

She thought she'd misread. She brought the folder closer and looked again.

No mistake. The birthday matched too. That was her.

The Number column was blank. The Notes column had four words: Candidate A.

Next to it, smaller handwriting, darker ink than the rest. Like it had been added later.

"Blood match rate 99.7%. Unique antibody profile. Can neutralize residual compounds in Subject 047. Recommend long term observation. Do not eliminate."

The back of her neck went numb. The numbness crawled down her spine.

Avery stared at those words. A ringing sound filled her ears. Everything in the study felt far away. Only those words stayed, burned into her eyes.

What did all this mean?

She had no idea.

But her hands were already shaking. She didn't notice until the edge of the folder cut her fingertip. A thin red line.

BANG-!

A dull blast ripped through the air. The whole hallway trembled. The floor to ceiling windows cracked with a sound that made her teeth ache. Avery dropped to the ground on instinct, arms over her head.

The folder fell from her hands. The last page flipped face up, pinned under shattered glass.

"Everyone, on guard!"

The ringing drowned out everything.

Red emergency lights flickered on and off. Smoke filled the hallway. Guards shouting. Gunshots. Footsteps. All of it blending together.

A hand reached down from above and grabbed Avery's wrist. The grip was so hard she stumbled forward.

"Get up."

Dominic's voice came from above her. He wasn't looking at her.

He pulled her deeper into the hallway. Avery had no choice but to follow. Her medical bag slipped from her hand. She instinctively tried to look back-

"Leave it."

He pushed open a door at the end of the hall, shoved her inside, and locked it behind him. The room was dark. A storage closet, maybe. The gunfire continued outside, muffled now by the walls.

Avery leaned against the wall, gasping for air. Dominic stood by the door with his back to her, listening.

Her eyes landed on his shoulder blades. His shirt was torn. A shallow cut bled beneath it, still seeping.

"You're hurt."

"A graze."

"I'm a doctor." Avery's voice steadied. "Let me see."

Dominic turned his head and looked at her. Emergency light slipped through the crack in the door, cutting a sharp line across his face.

"You're a psychiatrist."

"I'm an MD. I can handle a minor wound."

She stepped forward. Her knees felt weak, but her fingers didn't shake. She bent down and found the first aid kit in the corner, opened it, and pulled out antiseptic wipes and tweezers. Quick movements. Like she'd done it a thousand times.

Her eyes went back to his wound.

"It's not deep, but there might still be debris inside. If I don't clean it, it'll get infected."

He didn't sit. He just stayed against the wall and turned slightly, exposing the wound.

Avery stepped closer. When the antiseptic touched the cut, Dominic's muscles tensed for a second.

He didn't make a sound. Didn't even change his breathing. But she saw it. His fingers clenched once, then relaxed.

She used the tweezers to pull out a small piece of debris lodged near the surface. Small. Not deep. But when it came out, the blood flowed faster.

She stopped it quickly and bandaged the wound. As the gauze wrapped around his shoulder blade, her fingertips brushed his skin for a moment.

It was hot.

"Done."

She stepped back.

Dominic looked down at the bandaged wound and rolled his shoulder. The gauze didn't shift.

"That bullet," he said. "It was meant for you."