COMPOUND, CLINIC*

Dante’s eyes opened in a blur at first, but after taking in his environs, his eyes widened, and he tried to stand up, but pain from his tummy sent him back.

His nurses quickly helped with a pillow under his head, so he felt more comfortable.

He actually passed out after Karina burst his stitches earlier and almost plucked off his dîck.

“Tell me that crazy wench left already,” he said.

“He left at 7,” the nurses replied.

“And why the fûck is Eight not here beside me!” He barked.

“Dante Ivanov,” a new voice said as someone stepped into the ward.

The consigliere.

“You finally decided to...