The Mafia King's Unknown Doctor Wife novel Chapter 2

The Ferraro’s hospital, known to normal citizens as St. Camillus Hospital, served as the perfect emblem for the mob family. It was old as dirt, efficient, and beyond flaws. Nobody, not cop nor criminal, dared whisper anything bad about the Ferraros or their pet project.

It’s why Elena even applied to St. Camillus, despite its seedy connections. It wasn’t her first choice, but Elena wanted nothing more than to escape her family and start over somewhere new. And the only way to do that was by earning money.

As far as swallowing morals went, St. Camillus wasn’t a bad option. Many businesses in the city had mob ties. But most of them were small fries who’d bow down to Capo Vitale or Don Morello in a heartbeat.

The Ferraros were a different story. They’d been on indifferent terms with the Morellos and other crime families, content to let them have their own slice of the city.

But if things ever got dicey? Everybody knew how it would shake out.

The Ferraros set the rules that all other crime families followed—no child prostitution or underage drug deals had occurred for two decades because of the Ferraro’s laws. The Ferraros were also the reason contract breeches were punished by death. If anyone crossed them, they’d get wiped out like dust.

The city lived or died at the Ferraros’ whims.

So Elena accepted the job offer.

Elena’s first week as a doctor at St. Camillus was pretty much what she expected. The work was fulfilling but grueling. She tried not to pay too much attention to who was in her hospital beds—her patients extended the same courtesy.

Her coworkers were more complicated. Elena wasn’t turning heads as the Vitale Girl but as the only female doctor in the entire hospital. It took the full week, but the other doctors realized she was more than a pretty face.

Elena was so busy she had barely noticed she’d yet to meet her mystery husband. That was just fine by her. She felt a little bad for Mr. Fabio, but, considering what her former life was like, Elena couldn’t feel bad about how things were.

And so a whole nine days passed since Elena’s marriage and the start of her new life.

On the tenth day, Elena discovered a new mystery. Massimo Ferraros, the current don of the Ferraro family, was visiting the hospital. According to the gossiping doctors, he was going to pick one doctor to be his family’s personal physician.

“Best of luck,” Elena told her colleagues.

“You’re not interviewing?”

Elena shrugged. Things were going well already—why ruin it by having her life devoted to a mafia don?

On the streets, Massimo Ferraro was called the Boss of Blood and Ice. He was said to personally destroy any mafia member who broke the Ferraro’s rules. Apparently, he wiped out every trace of the Lombardi family ten years ago—save through names on headstones.

Not a man she’d want to get entangled with.

“You must be set for life already for a salary of 900k to be below you.”

“Nine hundred thousand dollars?!” she shouted, suddenly glad she had already finished her coffee. Otherwise, she’d be spitting it out in shock. “Neurosurgeons don’t even make that much!”

With that kind of money, her student loans would be gone. She could pay for an apartment—no, a house—on the other side of the globe, and still have money left over for a new life.

“Where did you say you had to sign up for an interview?”

Elena got the last appointment of the day. She tried to lose herself to her work but couldn’t stop wondering how Massimo Ferraro compared to the rumors.

Finally, it was time to find out.

A man she’d never seen before introduced himself as Ferraro’s personal assistant and led her to an unused office in the hospital. That, too, she’d never seen, but the family name on the wall made it clear why: this office was left empty for the mafia don.

The assistant knocked twice. He turned to Elena. “Don Ferraro will see you now.”

It wasn’t lost on Elena that he was now using mafia titles. While he called his boss “Mr. Ferraro” out in the public wing of the hospital, that had been playing at normal. Here, in private, he could admit all that the Ferraro family was, and, by extension, all their physician might deal with.

Elena had grown up keeping her mouth shut and staying out of mafia business. She could handle ignoring how the Ferraros got injured and focus on treating them.

She opened the door.

The office was pristine and modern. Elena recognized the desk—an abstract, chic thing—from a catalog her father followed: it cost seven thousand dollars. The bookcase Massimo Ferraro was browsing likely was worth triple.

Massimo looked up and stared at Elena.

Massimo was clean shaven with a handsome jawline. His black curled hair was swept into a low, short ponytail. His eyes were like emeralds that danced under starlight.

He also looked a lot younger than Elena expected. He couldn’t be more than a decade older than herself, could he?

Elena met his gaze.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Elena—”

“You can go.”

He spoke with no emotion. That, as much as what he said, threw off Elena.

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