"Nobody is allowed between these pretty little thighs but me....and if anyone tries...𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."
~
They call him The King-a ghost who rules the world's most powerful mafia from the shadows. No face. No mercy. No mistakes.
And beside...
-"Memento Mori- (phr.) "rememberthatyouwilldie"; a reminder of morality or the inevitable transformation of life into death."-
______________________________
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The door shut softly behind the last of them.
Footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving only the sterile quiet of the hospital suite behind. The machines no longer hummed with life, just background static—lifeless and cruel.
Kaia's body lay still beneath the white sheet. Lips pale, lashes unmoving, skin like porcelain glass. Not breathing. Not responding. Just gone.
Raine didn't move at first. It had only been a minute since her "last" breath.
She stood beside the bed, hands clenched tight, the hollows of her eyes shadowed with something deeper than grief.
Then—
She moved.
Quick. Precise.
The sheet flew back. "Let's go," she barked.
Her palm slammed against the red emergency button mounted beside the bed. "Code black, prep OR-2. Page Rollins and get me another dose of Atropine!"
The door burst open—an attending nurse stumbling in mid-step.
"Get our Jane Doe ready," Raine snapped. "Now."
She plunged a syringe into Kaia's IV port—fast, brutal. Her other hand already pressing against Kaia's chest. "Come on," she hissed.
She started compressions—deep, rhythmic, ruthless.
"One. Two. Three. Breathe, dammit—"
The nurse was already at the head of the bed, pulling down a fresh oxygen mask, sliding it into place, helping vent the air back into Kaia's lungs. Raine worked in silence now—focused, robotic, her emotions shoved down below the surface where they couldn't interrupt her hands.
Another nurse ran in with a gurney, a file already labeled Jane Doe clipped to the foot.
Raine didn't look at them.
She kept pushing, counting under her breath, sweat gathering along her brow.
"You are not dying," she said, voice cracking. "Remember the plan, right?"
Kaia didn't stir.
But the tiniest flicker sparked beneath her ribcage—a flutter, almost imagined.
Raine froze.
She straightened, eyes flashing to the nurses. "Time it right. Prep the morgue transfer. And burn the fucking chart."
