Lorenzo Vitale
Chapter 2
Lorenzo Vitale
Lorenzo Vitale did not trust doctors.
This wasn't personal.
He simply didn't trust anyone.
Doctors.
Politicians.
Bankers.
Lawyers.
Priests.
Most people disappointed you eventually.
The trick was expecting it beforehand.
That way it hurt less.
His father had taught him that.
Right before getting himself murdered.
Now Lorenzo sat outside Operating Room Three watching a woman completely destroy his understanding of reality.
The surgery had started forty-seven minutes ago.
Forty-seven.
He knew because he'd checked.
Repeatedly.
The waiting area was silent except for the occasional buzz of fluorescent lights overhead.
His men occupied nearby chairs.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody dared.
Not when Lorenzo was thinking.
And Lorenzo was definitely thinking.
About the doctor.
Specifically.
Because something wasn't right.
The woman should've been terrified.
Any reasonable person would've been.
Four armed men barging into a nearly empty clinic at almost three in the morning?
Most people would've called the police.
Or panicked.
Or asked questions.
Dr. Amara Queen had done none of those things.
Instead she'd looked at a dying man.
Then looked at Lorenzo.
Then gotten annoyed.
Annoyed.
The realization continued bothering him.
A lot.
The operating room doors finally opened.
Immediately.
Every man stood.
Amara stepped into the hallway.
Removing surgical gloves.
Dark skin.
Curly Afro.
Black scrubs.
No makeup.
No jewelry besides a simple gold necklace.
And somehow she still looked like she'd walked off the cover of a magazine.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
The woman glanced at the group.
Then directly at Lorenzo.
"He's alive."
Silence.
Immediate silence.
Relief washed through the room.
Several men visibly relaxed.
One muttered a prayer.
Another sat back down.
Lorenzo simply nodded.
"Thank you."
Amara blinked.
Once.
Slowly.
Like she'd never heard those words before.
Interesting.
Then she shrugged.
"That's literally my job."
The woman started walking away.
Lorenzo frowned.
"That's it?"
She stopped.
Turned.
Raised an eyebrow.
"What exactly were you expecting?"
Silence.
Fair.
Very fair.
Lorenzo wasn't entirely sure.
A speech maybe.
A lecture.
A demand for answers.
Something.
Instead she looked like she wanted coffee and approximately zero conversations.
The woman crossed her arms.
"He's stable."
A pause.
"He's going to be unconscious for several hours."
Another pause.
"Don't let him get shot again."
One of Lorenzo's men snorted.
Immediately.
Then coughed when Lorenzo looked at him.
Coward.
Absolute coward.
Amara sighed.
Then looked directly at Lorenzo.
"For someone whose employee nearly died tonight, you're surprisingly calm."
Silence.
The question hung in the air.
Dangerous.
Interesting.
Lorenzo studied her.
Most people avoided conversations like this.
Most people knew better.
She didn't.
Or maybe she simply didn't care.
"I've been doing this a long time."
Amara's gaze sharpened.
"You're twenty-eight."
Silence.
One of the men accidentally choked.
Lorenzo stared.
Then stared harder.
Because she'd said it so casually.
So matter-of-factly.
Like she wasn't speaking to one of the most feared men in Chicago.
Like she genuinely didn't care who he was.
The realization should've offended him.
Instead...
It intrigued him.
Dangerously.
"How old are you?"
Amara looked unimpressed.
"Is that your attempt at flirting?"
The room froze.
Absolutely froze.
Every single man stopped breathing.
Lorenzo blinked.
Once.
Slowly.
The doctor looked completely serious.
Then she smirked.
Actually smirked.
The woman was making fun of him.
The realization hit everyone simultaneously.
One of his captains looked ready to faint.
Lorenzo should've been angry.
Should've been offended.
Should've been something.
Instead...
He laughed.
A real laugh.
The first one he'd had all week.
Maybe longer.
Amara looked surprised.
Briefly.
Then suspicious.
Like laughter hadn't been the intended outcome.
"Twenty-five."
She finally answered.
Lorenzo frowned.
"Twenty-five?"
The doctor sighed.
Immediately.
Like she'd had this conversation a thousand times.
"Yes."
"You own this entire clinic."
"Yes."
"You performed emergency surgery."
"Yes."
"You're twenty-five."
The woman looked exhausted.
"You're repeating yourself."
One of Lorenzo's men suddenly spoke.
"Boss."
Silence.
Everyone turned.
The man immediately regretted existing.
Visible.
Painful.
Regret.
"What?"
The poor guy pointed toward a framed newspaper article hanging nearby.
Everyone looked.
Including Amara.
The article headline read:
CHILD PRODIGY COMPLETES MEDICAL RESIDENCY AT AGE SIXTEEN
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Lorenzo looked at the article.
Then at Amara.
Then back at the article.
Then back at Amara.
The woman closed her eyes.
Immediately.
Like she'd just developed a headache.
"I hate that article."
The betrayal.
The newspaper betrayal.
Undefeated.
Lorenzo walked toward the wall.
Studied the article.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
Every hallway contained awards.
Achievements.
Photographs.
Medical journals.
Research publications.
Patents.
Recognition.
The woman was famous.
Not celebrity famous.
The dangerous kind of famous.
The kind earned through intelligence.
The kind powerful people noticed.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Behind him, Amara spoke.
"You're staring."
Lorenzo turned.
The woman stood beside the nurses' station holding a cup of coffee.
Watching him.
Waiting.
Unbothered.
"You've accomplished a lot."
The compliment slipped out before he could stop it.
Amara froze.
Actually froze.
For the first time all night.
Then she looked away.
Briefly.
Almost uncomfortably.
Like she wasn't used to hearing things like that.
Which was ridiculous.
Someone with her résumé should've been drowning in praise.
Yet somehow...
She looked suspicious of it.
That intrigued him even more.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
A phone suddenly rang.
One of his men answered.
His expression darkened immediately.
Lorenzo already knew.
More bad news.
The man approached.
Carefully.
"Boss."
Silence.
"There was another attack."
The room grew cold.
Instantly.
Lorenzo's eyes hardened.
The brief moment of peace vanished.
Business returned.
Violence returned.
Reality returned.
The doctor noticed immediately.
Of course she did.
Nothing seemed to escape her.
The phone call ended.
Orders were given.
Plans formed.
Men moved.
Within minutes the room transformed back into what it had been before.
A battlefield.
Then Amara spoke.
Calmly.
Softly.
Dangerously.
"If whoever attacked you is smart..."
Silence.
Every eye turned toward her.
The woman sipped her coffee.
Unbothered.
Then continued.
"They'll hit your injured people again."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Because everyone knew she was right.
Lorenzo stared.
The doctor stared back.
And for the first time that night...
The mafia don realized something.
Dr. Amara Queen wasn't simply intelligent.
She was strategic.
Which was somehow even more dangerous.
And suddenly...
Lorenzo found himself wanting to know a lot more about the mysterious doctor who wasn't afraid of him.
End Chapter 2