Chapter 7

Seven Years in Hell: Escaping the Don Chapter 07 

Meanwhile, in Manhattan, New York. 

Beyond the floor–to–ceiling windows of the penthouse, a raging blizzard was swallowing the city whole. 

“The bone is healing well, Boss.” The private physician snipped the final suture on my collarbone, keeping his head bowed and his breathing meticulously shallow. “But the deep–tissue frostbite from the water dungeon is irreversible. On cold, damp days, the pain will be excruciating. You need bed rest for at least another two months.” 

The gunshot wound had settled into a jagged, sinister maroon scar against my deathly pale skin. 

“I don’t have time to rest.” I pulled up my silk blouse, casually concealing the scar, my voice devoid of any inflection. “Give me the strongest painkillers you have that won’t compromise my 

focus. You’re dismissed.”