Page 30 of The Torturer's Target

But she knew why. This case was very personal to her, and she almost unleashed herself on an innocent man. She might not give a shit between right or wrong, but she’d like to believe that she’d never killed a man that didn’t deserve it. All her victims were part of the criminal underworld. Men and women who’d earned it.

As time passed, her mind continued to race, while her body grew increasingly heavy with exhaustion. She recognized the need for sleep, yet her mind stubbornly refused to cooperate. She attempted to calm her racing thoughts, focusing on her breathing, but it was futile.

Suddenly, she remembered something. Reaching over to the bedside table, she opened the drawer and gently pulled out an old music box.

It was the only thing left of her father. She avoided it because of the flood of memories it brought, but tonight it couldn’t hurt. She was already at her lowest.

The delicate, rickety device emitted a cracking sound when she pressed the button. But then the music started to play softly, filling the room with a serene melody.

Tesiera closed her eyes and listened to it. It didn’t take long before the music began guiding her into a peaceful slumber. And before she fell asleep, she knew she didn’t want to wake like this. Didn’t want to live like this.

There had to be a way to make this stop. There had to be something she could do to bury all these uncomfortable feelings and get on with her life.

Maybe she would pay the doctor another visit.

CHAPTER 13. A SEED PLANTED. A SEED NEEDED.

Three days later, Max stepped into the sterile operating room, his hands already scrubbed clean. The surgical team was assembled and waiting for him, dressed in their blue scrubs and masks.

Max approached the table where the patient lay, covered in drapes. He looked over the scans and notes, making sure he had everything he needed.

“Let's begin,” he said, nodding to the anesthesiologist. The machine beeped as the patient was put under, and Max picked up his scalpel.

The procedure was delicate, but Max was an expert. He worked carefully, slicing through the meticulous tissue with precision. He was in the zone, focused on the task at hand.

Hours passed as he worked, sweat beading on his brow. He was almost done when he heard a beep from the machine. He looked up, his heart jolted. The patient’s heart rate was dropping.

Max knew he had to act fast. He ordered the surgical team to get ready for an emergency bypass procedure, his mind rapidly analyzing the situation to pinpoint the error and the solution.

Then, in a moment of clarity, he understood the issue. He asked for a scalpel and quickly made an incision, exposing the compromised blood vessel. He worked quickly, repairing the damage and getting the blood flowing again.

The patient stabilized, and Max breathed a sigh of relief. He finished the procedure, carefully closing the incision and dressing the wound.

The patient was transferred to the ICU, and Max walked out of the operating room, exhausted but proud. He was greeted by Nurse Pattie. “Dr. Kingston, that was amazing,” she said, a smile on her face. “You saved that patient's life.”

Max nodded, the adrenaline still pulsing through him. “It was a close call, but I'm glad it turned out okay,” he said.

“You’re truly a miracle worker,” she said. “The patient’s family will be forever grateful for what you did for them today.”

Max smiled, feeling another surge of pride and accomplishment. “It’s all in a day’s work,” he said. “But it’s always great to know that I made a difference in someone’s life.”

Nurse Pattie nodded, her smile still wide. “You sure did, and you do it every day. You’re a true hero, Dr. Kingston.”

Venus had come over to visit Tesiera. Or at least that's what she had thought.

After spending hours alone in the living room, idly watching TV, with no sign of Tesiera emerging from her seclusion, Venus's worry deepened. Deciding to investigate, she switched off the television, rose from the couch, and began a thorough search of the apartment.

Passing by a door, she heard the distinct sounds of boxing. Pausing, Venus retraced her steps and opened the door. Inside, she found Tesiera, completely absorbed in her vigorous workout, punching a red, sand-filled bag hanging from the ceiling. Tesiera's body, glistening with sweat, moved rhythmically and forcefully. The air around her seemed charged with tension.

Venus understood that something must have disrupted Tesiera's mission, especially since there had been no news about the billionaire doctor's death. Knowing Tesiera wouldn't discuss it with her, Venus had sought answers from Big Cat. He had revealed that the mission was complicated because the target turned out to be the wrong person.

The memory made her wince. She knew how hard that could be.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Venus's voice was barely a whisper.

“No,” Tesiera replied curtly, not even sparing Venus a glance. She kept her focus locked on the boxing bag.

Venus, understanding Tesiera's disposition, decided not to press further and turned to leave. But then, she paused and added softly, “I’ve had the same experience.”

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