The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

I was a surgeon on the most luxurious ship in the world, scrubbing my hands until they were raw to forget the name Ye Jiuting and the past I’d left behind. But at 2:15 AM, Room 404 became my graveyard when a federal agent flatlined on my table, and the world I’d built turned into a nightmare. The nurse handed me a syringe she swore was a standard antibiotic, but the ship’s medical files had been scrubbed to hide a fatal allergy. Before the body was even cold, the widow was screaming murder, and the ship’s foreman, Huston Lyons, was at my throat with a predatory grin. "You killed him, Doctor," Huston sneered, "and on this ship, people like you tend to disappear overboard." When I tried to prove the syringe was clean, Huston’s brutal grip forced the needle into my own arm, injecting me with a lethal stimulant that sent my heart into a violent, scorching frenzy. I fled into the bowels of the ship, my vision warping and my lungs burning, while a ship-wide announcement declared a five-million-dollar bounty on my head. Every desperate gambler and debt-ridden crew member was now hunting me like an animal for a chance at a clean slate. I didn't understand how the digital records could lie or why a routine dose had been replaced with poison. Was I a target, or just a convenient scapegoat for a conspiracy much larger than a single death? Just as the mercenaries were about to drag me to a black site, Clinton Collier, the terrifying "King of the Leviathan," stepped out of the shadows and claimed my life as his own. "She is my Caretaker now," he declared, wrapping a black silk ribbon around my neck to mark me as his exclusive property. I had escaped the gallows only to be collared by a monster, but as I felt his madness recede under my touch, I realized that being his only cure was the most dangerous weapon I possessed.

Chapters

Chapter 8

Clinton didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the gun as if it were a mildly interesting piece of modern art.

"Shoot me, Jairo," Clinton said softly. "But know this. My security team has a lock on you from the bridge. You pull that trigger, you and your men turn into pink mist before I hit the ground."

Red laser dots appeared on Jairo's chest. One. Two. Five.

Jairo looked down at the dots. He looked at Clinton's calm face.

He lowered the gun.

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You win this round, Collier. But the investigation continues. If I find out she knows the code... I'll burn this ship down."

"Fair enough," Clinton said. "Now, get off my deck."

Jairo holstered his weapon. He walked over to Isela, who was still huddled by the landing skids.

He leaned down and wiped a smear of blood from her cheek with his thumb.

"Pray, Doctor," he whispered. "Pray he never gets tired of you."

Jairo boarded the helicopter. His men followed.

The chopper lifted off, banking hard to the west.

Clinton watched it go. Then he turned to Isela.

She tried to stand, but her legs gave out. She slumped back against the skid.

Clinton signaled. Two of his personal guards approached.

"Get the handcuffs off her," he ordered.

The guard unlocked the cuffs. Isela rubbed her raw wrists.

"Thank you," she breathed. "You saved me."

Clinton looked down at her. "Get up."

Isela forced herself to stand. She swayed.

Clinton caught her elbow. His grip was bruising.

"Don't thank me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that only she could hear. "You manipulated me in front of my business partner. I don't like being manipulated."

Isela swallowed hard. "I had to."

"Yes. You did." Clinton pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe the blood from her neck. His touch was clinical, yet intimate. "And because you survived, you are now my problem."

"I can work," Isela said quickly. "I can pay off the debt."

"Money is irrelevant," Clinton said. He dropped the bloody handkerchief on the deck. "You need a reason to be here that Jairo respects. A reason that explains why I would risk war for you."

"What reason?"

"You are no longer a surgeon," Clinton said. "You are my private Caretaker."

Isela frowned. "Caretaker?"

"My health is... fragile," Clinton said, his eyes darkening. "You are the only thing that works. You belong to me now. Body, mind, and soul."

"That sounds like slavery," Isela whispered.

"It's survival," Clinton corrected. "For both of us."

He turned and began to walk toward the interior doors.

"Follow me," he commanded. "We have paperwork to sign."

Isela looked at the open sky one last time. Then she looked at Clinton's retreating back.

She followed him.

---

Continue to next part

I was trapped in a velvet booth at Le Bernardin, Arthur Sterling’s hand crawling up my knee as he whispered that my father would be in handcuffs by morning if I didn't spend the night with him. Desperate to escape, I lunged at the only man more dangerous than Arthur—Gunnar Kirk, the "Butcher of Wall Street"—and kissed him in front of every camera in the room, thinking I was choosing the lesser of two evils. I was wrong; Gunnar didn't just play along, he took possession, forcing me into a cold-blooded contract to be his fake fiancée to save his corporate image from an SEC investigation. While my greedy stepmother and sister were busy fighting over the diamonds he sent, I was living in terror, trying to hide the one thing that truly mattered: my infant son, hidden away with a nanny in a cramped Queens apartment. When my baby suffered a febrile seizure and I rushed to the ER, I looked up to see Gunnar standing in the doorway, his glacial eyes boring into me as he realized the "ruined" socialite was hiding a child from her past. I tried to sabotage the wedding, setting up my fame-hungry stepsister as a decoy bride so I could flee to Switzerland with my son, but Gunnar caught me on the fire escape before I could take a single step toward freedom. He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and told me that if I didn't walk down that aisle, he would personally ensure my father rotted in prison. We stood at the altar and exchanged vows in a ceremony built on blackmail and lies, but as we walked out as husband and wife, Gunnar didn't look at me with affection; he turned to his assistant and ordered a total deep dive into the medical records I had spent a year trying to erase. "Find out exactly what happened during those nine months in Switzerland, and tell me who that baby really belongs to."

Action Modern Romance

7.2

Etangled By Casanova

7.2

Valerie never imagined it would be a tool to pay off her stepfather's debt–Luke. James, is a man who wants to have it, a respected man, a cruel casanova. Valerie tries to run, trying to be free from James' grip. But it was difficult, James would not let Valerie escape from her confinement. Even though now he has power. Wealth, power, in fact, were not enough to fight James. Valerie's cruel male obsession and hatred, unwittingly turns into love. Cruel and rude love, can they unite, like lovers?

Action Modern Romance

9.6

Frozen Cargo, A Betrayed Wife

9.6

My husband made me ride in the freezing cargo hold because his mistress wanted peace and quiet. I died back there, clutching the "vitamins" she gave me, while they laughed in the front seat. It wasn't until my frozen body was found that Atlas realized he had just killed his own wife and unborn child. Ten years ago, I saved Atlas from a car crash that left me with the mind of a child. He hated me for it. He treated me like a burden and let his mistress, Kacie, feed me high-dose abortion pills disguised as health supplements. When the police uncovered the truth, Atlas' s world shattered. He discovered Kacie had never been pregnant-but I was. Consumed by a belated, violent rage, he executed Kacie with his own hands and demanded the death penalty for himself. He thought death would be his redemption. He thought he could find me on the other side and make amends. But when his spirit finally reached out to mine, begging for forgiveness, I didn't feel the love I had yearned for in life. I felt nothing. "Go away, Atlas," I whispered, watching his soul crumble. "I'm finally free."

Action Modern Romance

9.7

He Came Back, I Broke Him

9.7

Eighteen months ago, the man I loved shattered my heart, claiming everything between us was a mistake. Now, he's back, a ghost of his former self, a rookie tryout in my pro esports team. And I will make him regret crawling back. Clifton, captain of a legendary esports team, was secretly battling a severe wrist injury that threatened his career, every match a fight against his own body. He pushed through the pain, ignoring doctors' warnings, desperate to maintain his god-like status. His world was already on the edge, but nothing prepared him for seeing Justice Terry again in the team basement. Justice, pale and trembling, his eyes wide with naked terror, was now a rookie tryout. Clifton had spent a year and a half trying to forget that rainy Chicago alley, the raw revulsion in Justice's eyes, the whispered "it wasn't real" that had left him heartbroken. Justice had vanished, and Clifton had erased every trace. Now, the boy who once looked at him like he was the sun was back, flinching at his touch, displaying a deep, primal fear. Amidst sponsor pressure and whispers of being "washed," Clifton saw Justice's return as a chance for vengeance. He publicly humiliated Justice on a live stream, forcing him into a suicide mission, then coldly benched him. Yet, the satisfaction never came. Instead, a hollow emptiness and a torrent of questions: What had truly happened in the past? Why was Justice here, and what trauma had carved such fear into his bones? Clifton, unwilling to be fooled again, swore to uncover every secret and every lie. He would force Justice to explain why he had returned, even if it meant tearing down everything they both had left.

Action Horror LGBT+Mystery

9.4

Mated To The Ruthless Savanna King

9.4

I was a New York photographer, but I woke up under the brutal sun of the African savanna. Worse, I wasn't human. I was trapped in the body of a male cheetah, with two starving cubs clinging to my fur, telepathically calling me "Mom." But I am a real man! To keep my adopted sons alive, I had to fight hyenas and dodge rogue lions. But the real nightmare was my bizarre survival mechanism. Under extreme threat, I would uncontrollably shift back into my human form—stark, undeniably naked. I was forced to sprint across the plains with my bare skin exposed, carrying two cubs while escaping furious lionesses. I became a freak, the most confusing and humiliating legend of the animal kingdom. Covered in bloody scratches and mud, I was pushed to the brink of despair. Why was I thrown into this beast's body? Why did my only defense mechanism involve profound social death? Just when I barely survived a cliff dive to escape the lions, my path was blocked by two massive, highly intelligent prime male cheetahs. But the alpha, Bradley, didn't want to kill me for my territory. His intense gaze raked over my naked, bleeding human body with a dark, possessive hunger. "You are full of surprises." He purred smoothly, teaching me to magically summon a fur skirt before demanding I join his coalition. "Oh, you'll come to me. I guarantee it." Looking into his predatory eyes, I realized I was no longer just surviving the wild; I was the prey of a completely different kind of beast.

Action Adventure LGBT+Modern

8.0

TAMING THE ALPHA'S HEART

8.0

Ella Hart's life changes forever when her late father's debt forces her into a marriage with the infamous Alpha, Rylan Wolfe. Cold, ruthless, and scarred by betrayal, Rylan treats their union as a business deal but fate has other plans. As hidden truths, dangerous enemies, and a powerful mate bond draw them together, passion ignites, trust shatters, and love becomes the ultimate battlefield. In a world of werewolf politics, revenge, and secrets, can a human Luna survive and claim her Alpha's heart?

Action Romance Werewolf

The Surgeon's Debt: Bound To The Beast

Chapter 8

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