Page 16 of The Torturer's Target

His bodyguards snorted disbelievingly.

“You haven't had sex in months, sir. Why don't you ask her out? I'm sure she would say yes without hesitation,” Bose suggested.

“I prefer not to get involved with nurses or staff members in that way. It's better to keep business and pleasure separate, plus it goes against ethical guidelines,” Max replied. Although there were no specific policies preventing him from dating nurses, his busy work schedule had prevented him from feeling attracted to anyone in months.

Maybe he should have sex. Before he forgot what it was like.

When he got home, his dog was overjoyed to see him. His pit bull barked happily and jumped on him, showering him with licks of joy.

Bose helped Max sit on the couch, and the doctor petted his dog. “Buddy, how are you doing? I know you missed me; I’ve missed you too.”

Zeus’s attention quickly shifted to the toy he took from Max's hand. Zeus settled into his dog bed, happily chewing the stuffing out of the squeaky sloth.

Max signaled Bose who handed Max a pair of crutches, which were familiar to him from countless childhood trips to the hospital. With practiced ease, Max maneuvered himself onto the crutches and they made their way to his large office the floor below them.

The guards sandwiched him, with Bose in front and Clinton behind him. They opened doors and helped him down the stairs. Despite his injuries, Max moved with an impressive agility.

The office was spacious and well-furnished, resembling a conference room. A large table dominated the center of the room, surrounded by comfortable chairs. The sideboard held refreshments and a bookshelf displayed various titles. Brightly colored paintings adorned the walls, and a vase of freshly cut flowers sat on a nearby cabinet which held a large, flatscreen TV. A whiteboard hung from the wall next to the cabinet, ready for use.

Max took his seat at the head of the table, while Clinton sat next to him. Bose walked over to the screen and turned it on, quickly setting up the file on the connected laptop.

Within seconds, a 30-second video clip began playing on the screen. It showed a woman in a sleek black leather outfit engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a heavily muscled man in broad daylight. Max couldn't help but notice her stunning features, her expressionless face was as unyielding as granite. Despite himself, his body reacted to her presence, and he cursed under his breath.

Concern etched across Clinton's face as he immediately asked, “Are you alright, boss? Do you need painkillers for your injuries?”

“I'm fine,” Max replied dismissively. It wasn't his wounds that were bothering him, it was the woman who had inflicted them.

Though still uncertain, Clinton took his seat again as Max gestured for Bose to begin the briefing.

“Her name is Tesiera Anderson, also known as ‘The Torturer’. Her mother, Lara Anderson, died of lung cancer when she was six, and she lost her father, Roman, who took his wife’s maiden name, two years later. She bounced around multiple foster homes until she was taken in and raised by a mafia boss, Big Cat. According to our sources, Big Cat is also her uncle,” Bose reported.

“The Torturer? Why the hell does that name sound so familiar?” Clinton pondered that for a moment before exclaiming, “Holy Shit!”

Max and Bose turned toward him. “What’s the matter? Do you know her?” Bose asked.

Clinton cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. “I used to work for Naruto Nakamura, the Japanese mob boss, and he often mentioned ‘The Torturer’ and ‘Big Cat’ during my time with him. Nakamura wasn’t afraid of anything, but whenever he mentioned those names, there was a look of pure terror in his eyes.”

“Interesting. So, my attacker is The Torturer,” Max acknowledged, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “To have a name like that, I take it she knows a thing or two about torturing people?”

“A thing or two?” echoed Clinton and Bose in unison. Bose continued. “The woman is a torture savant. She’s invented ways to torture her victims. She uses specialized weapons. Even powerful mob bosses fear her reputation. She’s a sadist and a psychopath.”

Max recalled the woman's ferocity when she attacked him, and he had no doubt that his bodyguard was right. “What else do you know about her?” he asked.

“Nothing extensive,” Bose replied. “Just mission reports detailing some of her past assignments. And let me tell you, this woman is a savage. Our sources say she has never failed a mission.”

“That makes me her first failed mission?”

“Yes, boss,” replied Bose.

“Hmm.” Max tilted his head in thought. “Which means she’ll be back to finish what she started.”

Clinton clenched his fists. “She can try, but she won’t succeed.”

“I’ve already instructed the chief of security to increase surveillance around the mansion. He’ll come over to speak to you soon, sir. Now that we know what to expect, we’ll make it impossible for her to succeed. If she ever shows her face again, we’ll eliminate her,” Bose said confidently. “She’s a threat that needs to be dealt with.”

Max didn’t respond, knowing Bose wasn’t wrong. The woman was dangerous and had made it clear she wanted him dead. “Why am I her target? Have you found any connection or motive behind her actions? Anything that could give us insight into why she wants me dead?”

“No, sir, not yet,” Bose replied honestly. Then he paused before adding, “But I uncovered a possible link. However, I'm not sure if it's relevant or just a coincidence.”

---