Rebirth in Another’s Body

"Accident?"

Alina swallowed hard, trying to process this information.

"I... I'm fine," she said, adjusting her tone to avoid suspicion.

The nurse let out a relieved smile. "That's good, Doctor. But you should get some rest. Dr. Adams wants to check on your condition."

"Doctor?!"

The word still felt foreign to her. From being a feared mafia leader... she was now Aileen Monroe—a surgeon?

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but she held it back. This was irony at its finest.

"Alright," she replied briefly.

As she returned to bed, a middle-aged man with graying hair entered the room. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce right through her. The ID on his chest read Dr. Adams – Neurology Specialist.

"It's good to see you awake, Aileen. We were worried about potential brain damage after the accident. How are you feeling?"

Alina thought quickly. If she asked too many questions, it might raise suspicion.

"A little dizzy... but I'm fine."

Dr. Adams nodded. "That's normal. The accident was quite severe. I wouldn't be surprised if you're experiencing some memory loss. But don't worry, we'll help you recover."

"Memory loss?"

A faint smirk almost formed on Alina's lips. This could be the perfect excuse if she acted strangely.

After completing his examination, the doctor left, and silence filled the room.

Alina lay back on the hospital bed, staring at the white ceiling. Reality was sinking in.

"I, Alina Devereaux, the mafia leader who was supposed to be dead... am now alive as Aileen Monroe, a doctor."

Her hands clenched into fists.

This wasn't just a second chance. This was a gift... and an opportunity for revenge.

"Marco..."

Her eyes darkened, and a cold smile curled on her lips.

"Just wait. I'll make you suffer more than you ever made me."

---

Somewhere else…

A shadowed figure spoke in a hushed tone.

"She's still alive."

The person in front of them stiffened, their expression turning sharp.

"What?! How is that possible? You ensured she was dead at the scene!"

"We don't understand either. When we started disconnecting her life support… she suddenly came back."

The seated man stood abruptly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No matter what, she has to be eliminated. She knows too much about us."

---

Alina leaned against the hospital bed, her eyes scanning every inch of the unfamiliar room. It was too clean, too quiet—so different from the world she once knew.

"Usually, after getting injured, I'd be running, hiding from my enemies," she murmured. "But now, I get to rest in a comfortable bed."

Her fingers gripped the blanket as she tried to process everything.

"Who was this woman, really?"

The hospital door swung open, and a nurse walked in, carrying a glass of water and some documents.

"Dr. Monroe, this is your medical report. You might want to read it to understand your condition after the accident," she said with a kind smile.

Alina accepted the documents with a short nod. The nurse didn't seem suspicious at all. Good. As long as she played the role of Aileen, no one would know the truth.

Once the nurse left, she immediately opened the report, scanning through the details.

Name: Dr. Aileen Monroe

Age: 29 years old

Occupation: General Surgeon at Bungalow International Hospital

Condition upon arrival: Mild head trauma, minor fractures in the left arm, multiple bruises from a car accident.

Medical status: Stable

"Car accident?" Alina narrowed her eyes.

She looked at her left arm, now wrapped in bandages. Something didn't sit right.

"I don't believe this was just an accident."

Her survival instincts screamed that something bigger was at play. But for now, she had to adapt.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the report and set it aside.

"If I'm Aileen Monroe now, then I have to act like Aileen Monroe," she muttered, lying back down. "But there's one big problem... I'm not a doctor."

How was she supposed to fake being a surgeon without raising suspicion?

Yet, the more she thought about it, the more she realized—the medical world and the mafia weren't that different.

As a mafia leader, she had stitched up gunshot wounds, stabilized dying men, and even performed emergency procedures with nothing but a knife and alcohol. The only difference now was that she had proper equipment, a sterile environment, and no need to flee from the police.

"If it's just cutting people open, I can do it. But more importantly, I need to uncover the truth behind Aileen's death."

Her eyes gleamed with determination.

For the woman whose body she now inhabited, for the second chance she had been given—she would find justice and punish the ones responsible.

"I will make them pay."