Two figures stood on opposing sides of a table: Reed, a man with an air of desperation, and a woman whose facial features mirrored his own but with a more delicate femininity.

"So, you want me to fix him? After all that's happened?" Her voice oozed exasperation.

"He can't die. The master won't tolerate his death, so I had to bring him here," Reed pleaded.

"Seriously? Do you think I became a doctor to deal with this mess? You people are nothing but animals, Reed! How can you lead such a life? Do you even comprehend how disappointed I am in you?" Her words dripped with a seething anger.

Reed remained silent, his expression a mixture of resignation and urgency. "He'll die if you don't act quickly. I'll leave him with you. Call me when he wakes up." With a determined face, Reed turned and exited the room.

Sona exhaled heavily, her gaze landing on the frail figure before her. "What a twisted bastard. Beating up minors, too. Disgusting," she muttered in annoyance.

Sona, Reed's younger sister and a first-year resident at a city hospital, had a more clandestine role attending to the needs of Mosiah, the ruthless Mafia boss, and his injured underlings, a duty that went beyond her responsibilities in the medical world.

As Mosiah reclined in his chair, his gaze fixed upon the outside world with unwavering gravity, Reed entered the room with cautious steps. "Master, you summoned me?"

"Any sign of the Vipers? Any sightings?" Mosiah inquired, his fingers tightly crossed.

"None, master. No movements they are laying low and we can't trace any disturbance from their side. Reed reported.

"Hmm... Perhaps the seal remains undiscovered. And the boy? Has he spoken yet?" Mosiah's voice carried a sense of urgency.

Reed shook his head. "Not a word, master. He hasn't regained consciousness."

Mosiah's frustration manifested as a heavy sigh, his brow furrowed in thought. "Stubborn. He won't break easily. We need to find a way to loosen his tongue."

"Master, if I may suggest," Reed interjected respectfully.

"What is it?"

"I believe the boy is clueless. He might've been a mere distraction. Sol could have left him to divert our attention," Reed offered, his gaze lowered.

Mosiah's intense scrutiny fell upon him, a tense silence hanging between them. "You think he'd sacrifice his own son for such a ploy?"

"Master, I've known Sol for years. He'd do anything for power. It's conceivable that he's using his own son to throw us off. Why else would he abandon him here?" Reed reasoned.

"If that's the case... dispose of the brat. He's of no use to us," Mosiah commanded coldly.

Reed's hand clenched into a fist, his gaze unwavering as he met Mosiah's eyes. "Master, killing him won't gain us anything."

"Then what do you propose? Should we keep him until he decides to rise against us, embracing his father's legacy?" Mosiah hissed impatiently.

"Not exactly, master. What if we exploit him? Turn him into an asset for us," Reed suggested, his features contorted into a sinister grin, leaving Mosiah to wonder about the depths of Reed's machinations.

"He's a fresh recruit, Master. Pliable, easily shaped to our desires, and a potential pawn against his own father," Reed stated in a frigid, deep tone. Mosiah leaned back, attentively observing as Reed presented his idea, an appreciative nod subtly acknowledging his cunning.

A sudden interruption shattered their dialogue—Reed's phone buzzed insistently. Swiftly extracting the device from his pocket, he glanced at the caller's name.

"Who's calling?" inquired Mosiah, his curiosity piqued.

"It's Sona. She might have information about the boy," Reed explained, gaining Mosiah's silent approval. With a nod, Reed answered the call, holding the phone to his ear. "Yes, Sona. What's the news?"

A pregnant pause hung in the air, Reed's expression momentarily freezing in response to what he heard. "What? Are you absolutely certain?" His brow furrowed, intrigue flashing across Mosiah's features as he strained to catch any hints about the call's content.

"Understood. Thanks." Reed concluded the conversation and shifted his attention back to Mosiah, a deep breath escaping him. "Master, the boy... he—"

His words faltered briefly as if he grappled with his thoughts, then Reed composed himself and continued, "He requires immediate medical attention. His condition has worsened."

Mosiah's response was a measured query, his steps carrying him closer to Reed. "Is that all?"

Reed nodded, his gaze rising to meet Mosiah's. "Yes, Master."

"Very well then," Mosiah conceded, his tone decisive as he rose from his seat, approaching Reed. His gaze bore into Reed's eyes, conveying silent expectations. "Go. Transport him to the hospital. Ensure he's patched up and presented before me, intact, within two days."

"Yes," Reed acknowledged, his response succinct. Lowering his head respectfully, he pivoted and exited the room, leaving Mosiah to his thoughts.

Kasperine stirred in discomfort, her eyes blinking open to the clinical environment. The pervasive scent of disinfectant stung her nostrils, making her feel congested. An involuntary cough escaped her dry throat as she attempted to shift her stiff body. Gradually, her senses sharpened, and she spotted a figure beside her, seated with a needle in hand, administering something through the IV tube.

"Where am I?" Kasperine's voice emerged hoarse and parched.

"At the hospital," the woman, identified as Sona, replied matter-of-factly.

"Why... Why am I here?" Kasperine's confusion resonated in her strained words.

Sona responded, not sparing any niceties, "You got quite a beating. Rest up. You've got one more day before Mosiah's men come to fetch you. So make the most of it."

Kasperine's hand shot out, clutching Sona's coat. "Wait! Please... Who is Mosiah? Why am I here? What's happening?"

Sona hesitated, pausing as she locked eyes with the desperate girl gripping her coat. "You... you don't know Mosiah? Are you serious?"

Kasperine's expression contorted into a perplexed frown. "What do you mean? Why wouldI know him? Why am I here?"

Sona's disbelief was palpable as she processed Kasperine's genuine confusion. "You really have no memory of him? Your family has been with his for generations. Are you trying to play dumb?"

The confusion deepened in Kasperine's eyes, her uncertainty evident. "No you  don't understand... They kidnapped me, Please, I need help. Once my grandfather knows you rescued me, he'll reward you handsomely."

Sona scrutinized Kasperine, pondering her options. "What's your name?"

"Kasperine Waverly. I'm Jackelin Waverly's granddaughter. They've taken me for ransom, I'm sure of it. Please, help me. I'll give you anything you want," Kasperine implored, her grip on Sona's coat tightening, her fear becoming more palpable with every word. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Sona let out a chuckle mingled with disbelief, shaking her head. "How badly were you beaten to lose your memory like this?"

Kasperine stared, bewildered. "What are you talking about? Why won't you believe me?"

"Sona!" Reed's abrupt entry into the room disrupted their conversation. Sona swiftly intercepted him, preventing his entry. She met his gaze, a silent message passing between them before she shut the door, blocking Reed outside.

Returning to Kasperine, Sona's expression grew serious. "Listen carefully. You can't let them find out you're a girl. Understand? Your name is Irsia, Sol Lucas's son. Act like a man. Find me when you can. Good luck." Sona patted Kasperine's back and quickly covered her with a blanket.

Once the door was opened again, Reed entered with two other men. His frustration was palpable. "What was that about?"

Sona maintained her composure. "You were disturbing the patient. I have to prioritize their well-being."

Rolling his eyes, Reed directed his attention to Kasperine, now referred to as Irsia, under the blanket. "How's he doing?"

Sona exhaled deeply. "Tell Mosiah that the boy has lost his memory. He doesn't recognize anything, not even his own name."

Reed's expression contorted in surprise. "How's that even possible?"

"You should've thought of that before you let him be beaten so savagely," Sona retorted, her frustration evident.