Chapter 10

Ethan Cross barely had time to process the chaos of the lab before he was ushered back into the sleek black SUV. The adrenaline of stabilizing the patient had worn off, replaced by a deep exhaustion and a gnawing sense of unease. Vivian sat across from him, her expression unreadable.

"You did well," she said finally, breaking the silence.

Ethan shot her a sharp look. "That man almost died because of you."

"He's alive because of you," she countered. "Think of it as a win."

Ethan clenched his jaw, leaning back against the seat. "This isn't medicine. It's gambling with people's lives."

Vivian didn't respond, her eyes flicking to her tablet as if dismissing his protests. The SUV slowed, pulling up near the edge of Sector D. Without a word, Vivian opened the door and gestured for him to get out.

"You're just leaving me here?" Ethan asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"You'll find your way back," she said, her tone almost amused. "Oh, and Doc?" She leaned in slightly, her green eyes sharp. "Don't disappear. We're not done."

The door slammed shut, and the SUV sped off, leaving Ethan standing in the shadows of the alley.

By the time Ethan returned to the clinic, the streets were quiet, the usual buzz of the underground reduced to a faint hum. He pushed open the door to find Clara and Ray standing by the makeshift counter, deep in conversation. They turned as he entered, their expressions shifting to relief—and suspicion.

"Where the hell have you been?" Clara asked, her tone sharp.

Ethan dropped his bag onto the counter and rubbed his temples. "It's a long story."

"We've got time," Ray said, crossing his arms. "Word's been spreading that you disappeared with some high-profile type. People are talking, Doc."

Ethan froze. "Talking? About what?"

Ray stepped closer, his voice low. "Rumors are flying that you've been working with Vivian Stokes."

Ethan's stomach dropped. "How do you know her name?"

Ray smirked faintly. "I make it my business to know people like her. She's dangerous, Doc. She's got ties to half the criminal syndicates in this city, and the other half want her dead. If she's roped you into something, you need to get out. Fast."

Ethan shook his head, pacing the room. "I didn't have a choice. She knows who I am. What I've done. She's holding it over my head."

"Of course she is," Clara said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "That's her thing. She gets leverage, then pulls you into her web. What does she want from you?"

Ethan hesitated, debating how much to reveal. Finally, he sighed. "She's working on something big. Medical research. But it's dangerous—unstable. She wants me to help stabilize it."

Clara's eyebrows shot up. "And you agreed?"

"She didn't give me much of an option," Ethan snapped. "She threatened to expose me to the entire underground."

Ray let out a low whistle. "You're in deeper than I thought."

Before the conversation could continue, the door to the clinic burst open, and Grayson stormed in, his face like thunder.

"Cross!" he barked. "We've got a problem."

Ethan frowned. "What now?"

Grayson threw a crumpled flyer onto the counter. Ethan picked it up, his blood running cold as he read the words:

"Wanted: Dr. Ethan Cross. Reward: 50,000 credits. Dead or Alive."

"They're calling you out, Doc," Grayson said, his voice grim. "That bounty just went public an hour ago. Every bounty hunter, thug, and lowlife in the city is going to be looking for you."

Ethan's heart pounded in his chest. "Who put this out?"

Grayson shook his head. "Could be anyone. Holt's people, the cops, hell, even someone who doesn't like your growing reputation down here. But one thing's for sure—you're a target now."

Clara snatched the flyer, scanning it quickly. "Fifty grand? That's enough to get half the city chasing after him."

Ray's expression darkened. "We need to move him. This clinic's not safe anymore."

"No," Ethan said firmly. "I'm not leaving. People need me here."

"People need you alive," Ray shot back. "If you stay, it's only a matter of time before someone comes through that door with a gun instead of a wound."

The room fell into a tense silence as the weight of the situation sank in. Finally, Clara spoke, her voice surprisingly calm.

"We need to throw them off," she said. "Make it look like Ethan's gone underground—disappeared completely."

Grayson frowned. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

Clara smirked. "Leave that to me."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "You've got something in mind?"

"I always do," she said. "But you're not going to like it."

Before Ethan could respond, the door creaked open again. This time, a young man staggered in, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, and his face was pale.

"Doc," he gasped, collapsing onto the floor. "Help… me."

Ethan rushed forward, catching the man before he hit the ground. "Ray, get me clean towels! Clara, I need gloves and sutures—now!"

As they scrambled into action, Ethan felt the weight of the bounty flyer burning in his pocket. The underground might be closing in on him, but as long as there were lives to save, he wasn't going anywhere.