Author Note: Hello! This is my second fanfiction. My first fanfiction was "Mafia Smafia" which has been renamed "Taken for You." Hopefully my previous readers read the author note at the end of the final chapter of my last story. It gave some general info about this story and answered some possible questions. The thing I want to stress to previous readers is that the Bella and Edward of this story is totally different from my other story! Edward is a dark character (and also an asshole), and Bella is more independent and kind of a spitfire. They have much more of a build up. While my last story wasn't a romance, Edward and Bella connected very soon and their relationship progressed rather quickly. This story is different. Also there is a Drama and Crime which will result in some pretty gruesome scenes. There is a M rating for a reason.

Also there is a lot of medical stuff in this story. While I am trying to research and be realistic as possible, this is fiction! Also I will need to tweak stuff to make fit to the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, but the plot of this story is my own.

Chapter 1

BPOV

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

My pager was going off again, alerting me that I was needed elsewhere. I said my apologizes to the patient that I had been checking in on and headed out. Being an Emergency Room doctor meant my work was fast paced, but needed the utmost concentration and accuracy. I was also a surgeon for the E.R. I switched areas of where I was needed as new patients came in. Living in New York, my job was never slow even during the night shift. Which is what I was smack dab in the middle of at the moment. Night shift….. We got a lot crime related victims during this time. New York City had no shortage of that.

I ran to the area I was needed. The paramedics were just bringing him in and the nurses were just a few paces ahead of me.

"What do we got?" I yelled.

"Caucasian male, mid twenties to thirties. No I.D. Unconscious. Gun shot wound to the abdomen. He's lost of a lot blood. Oxygen and heart rate are steadily dropping."

"Last vital check?"

He called off the numbers. We had to get this guy into surgery NOW.

I barked out orders and soon the man was on the operating table.

Hours later…..

The unidentified man was out of surgery. I was confident he would make a full recovery in time. I made my rounds to check on patients and soon my shift was coming to a close. I was making rounds and the next patient was the gunshot victim who's name I didn't know. I stepped into his room and a nurse was checking his vitals. He was still not awake from the anesthesia.

"Has he been identified yet?" I asked the nurse.

"No, we checked his clothes and no wallet or anything. There was a cheap cellphone but nothing on it that could help us. All of his personal belongings are in that plastic bag." She said while pointing to the table.

"Okay. Thanks" I replied as she left.

It wasn't normal for doctors to spend too much time trying figuring out who the John Doe's were. Most followed protocol and informed the right people and went along there merry way.

I wasn't most though. Opening the bag, I found a watch, cheap cellphone, dress shoes, and a wad of cash. His clothes had been trashed. Between the blood and being cut open by the paramedics there wasn't anything to salvage. His shoes were designer and I hate to think how much they cost. The watch was a Rolex. The cash was equal to a half month's pay for me. So why the cheap cellphone? I flipped it open and saw it had several missed calls from an unsaved number. I checked his contacts and found no emergency contacts listed.

No contacts listed at all. That was strange.

I went to recent calls. The only thing was the several missed calls from an unsaved number. It could be from a family member or a friend looking for him. But wouldn't they be listed as a contact? Oh wait, there was no contacts. Most likely no one knew he was in the hospital and had been shot. I felt pity and concern, but my gut was also telling me that this man had been mixed up in some bad stuff. I stared at the phone number on the screen. I was going against hospital protocol and my ass would most likely be written up for this. I clicked "call" and waited. On the third ring someone picked up.

"Fuck man. Where have you been?" A angry, but still worried sounding man said.

"Hello, I am a doctor from New York General Hospital."

Silence on the other end of the phone so I continued. "This number has been calling this phone and…"

"Why do you have this phone?!" The now very pissed off man said.

"Because the owner is in a hospital and unconscious." I snapped.

"WHAT?!" He yelled.

"He was brought in with a gunshot wound to the abdomen and…"

"Hold on.." he started to cut me off. AGAIN.

"Listen," I was starting to get irritated. "I am trying to help you. I am going against hospital protocol by even calling you, let along telling you patient information that is confidential. I am trying to help the situation. The man had no i.d. on him. The only thing I could find that would give me answers was this cheap excuse for a cellphone. Protocol will have it so that the police will be informed. I am trying to give you a heads up since your friend still isn't conscious. I seriously doubt anyone wants to wake up to a police officer asking questions of how they were shot and why they have no identification."

"Is it bad?" The man, who was a lot calmer now, said.

"He will live. I treated him when he first came in and performed the surgery. He will recover."

"Okay." And then he hung up.

An uneasy feeling crept in my stomach. The expensive shoes, large amount of cash, cheap cellphone, and now that phone call. Something was off. I wanted to help the man, but I had a feeling I mixed myself up with something I shouldn't have.

Why did I always do this? I could never just be a normal doctor. I was written up earlier in the year and got suspended earlier this year. I suspected a rape victim's attacker was a family member. When her father came storming in and demanded the victim leave right away, I didn't take to kindly him. After threatening him bodily harm, he went to lung at me. I was all for breaking bones, but a nearby police officer intervened and stopped the man. Shame to because I really wanted to break his nose or arm. This situation was different though. I had gotten involved in something I shouldn't.

I walked over to beside the man. He had an unusual hair color. It was brown with copper in it, almost a bronze color. He had a pointed noise and angular jaw. Even in a hospital bed in his condition, I had to admit he was handsome. I wonder what color his eyes were?...

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

My pager going off pulled me out my thoughts. This time it was from the front desk.

I left the man and went to see what I was needed for.

Nicole, the front desk receptionist, greeted me with a half smile.

"Hey Nicole. What do you need?" I asked.

Nicole motioned for me to get closer. "Two men came in looing for a gunshot victim."

"Are they police?"

"No." She replied.

"Did they give a name of who they were looking for?"

Nicole looked worried. "No. They just gave a description of a man they were looking for. I thought it was odd they didn't a name of who they were looking for. I can't release any information to them. But I was told you had an unidentified patient…."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's who they are looking for. If it was a family member or friend looking for someone they give a name and ask if that person had been admitted." I replied, confused as to why she was telling me this.

"Bella, I know you don't play by the rules very well. I am not asking you to get involved, but I wanted you aware."

"Okay. Thanks." I said with a half-smile. Great now co-workers will encouraging me to keep breaking the rules since I am so good at it. And I also may be rubbing off on the staff. Great….

Nicole's voice got lower. "I have a bad feeling about these two men. Watch your back."

I nodded and then she motioned her head, indicating where the two men where.

They were in suits and looked to be about mid-twenties. Once they saw me look in their direction they walked towards me.

"Sweetheart, will you be able to give us some answers?" He said with a thick Jersey accent. He smiled, trying to be charming. He was average looking with brown hair and grey eyes. I had a bad feeling about him.

"It's Doctor and no. Sorry, I have no answers for you." I replied with the most professional tone I could manage.

"Don't be like that sugar. We're just looking for our friend." The other man said, who also had a Jersey accent. I had a bad feeling about him also.

"You're friend isn't here. I'm sorry." And then turned to walk away.

Before I took five steps I heard one say, "Come on. We got three more hospitals to check. If Masen is still alive, we got to finish the job."

My blood ran cold. I forced myself to keep walking, to act like I didn't hear their comment.

I walked back to the unidentified man's room. I leaned back against the door and stared at his unconscious body. They were talking about him. I could feel it in my bones. They also said "Masen." The name of a supposed mafia family here in New York City. A name that put fear in just about everybody. The men in the waiting room could very well be from a rival mob. And I made myself stuck in the middle of it all.

Now what to do?

I went to the table and grabbed the cellphone from before. I took a deep breath and called the number I did earlier. When he picked up, I didn't wait for him to answer.

'You need to get here and get your friend out ASAP."

"Why? What happened?" He sounded anxious, good.

"Two men came looking a gunshot victim but didn't bother asking WHO they were looking for. Never gave a name. When they left, I overheard them saying they need Masen and to finish the job."

"Fuck" I heard and then commotion. "Why are you even bothering with this?" He asked.

"The man lying in that bed is my patient. I don't know what exactly you or him are involved in, but I will not sit by and wait for my patient to be potentially killed. I will also not let other innocent patients in this hospital die in the process. The last thing I need is some idiots shooting up my hospital."

"Any suggestions of how to get him out without raising suspicion." The man on the phone asked.

"People get transferred all the time. Do you by chance have the resources to get an ambulance or medical van?"

"Yeah, I could get one." He replied.

Of course you can, you're the mafia….. well maybe.

"Could you get four to five men to dress as medical personal and act the part?" I asked, not believing what I was getting involved in.

"Yeah. I can that all arranged." He said confidently.

Yep, definitely the mob or something illegal.

"Here's the deal. We act like he is getting transferred. I will get some documents together.."

"Forged documents." He inputted.

"Do you want my help or not?" I said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, of course. I'm trying to get all the facts."

"Well I am sticking my neck out for doing all this. So don't fuck up." I replied. I then told him where exactly to come in at the hospital. The vehicle would need to be parked at a more secluded section so other medical staff wouldn't really see what was going on. It would look like a transfer regardless, but the less the hospital staff saw the better. I doubt anyone this mystery phone man was bringing was real medical personal, so the less people saw of the transfer the better.

After ending the call, it all started to sink in. I was possibly helping the mob. Who am I shitting?! It was the mob! He didn't deny that the man was a Masen. The fucking Masen Mafia. What the hell had I gotten myself into this time?! Well it was too late now. I wanted to help this patient and now I was. And potentially helping the mafia…

I threw together some paperwork and gave the man a false name. I had in the report that a family member called and then came in and identified the man. They then requested him to be transferred to another medical center. The man on the phone actually gave me a medical center name to put in the report surprisingly. He said if checked it would be legit but the trail would end with the paper. I know I will still feel wrath from my boss though. I didn't go through proper procedures and protocol. Fuck protocol. Protocol has fucked over plenty of patients. It also has made my life hell numerous times.

I finished getting everything ready for the transfer. In a normal situation, the transfers would come in through higher up and then I would be informed. I was forging paperwork from higher up departments and forging signatures. I would just have to act dumb later and pray I didn't get fired. I could say the mafia threatened my life… Or they forged it?

I told myself I was doing this to keep people safe. To keep this man safe because he was my patient. It's a doctor's duty. Also the Jersey men could come and shoot up the place. Mystery man phone man could come with who knows how many. I was doing this protect the hospital. I looked at the unconscious man again.

Who was I kidding? I felt protective over him and didn't know the hell why!

Yeah you do… No one is here to be his voice during his unconscious state so you volunteered. You always do crap like this and then bitch about the repercussions.

God I hate my analytical side sometime.

I had an orderly help me move the patient to a gurney after I got a call saying mystery man from the phone was soon to arrive. We were almost at the door when the orderly had to open his mouth.

"I am surprised the transfer was approved with him just getting out of surgery."

"He's stable." I replied.

"Yeah, but that was fast. I've actually never heard of a transfer going through so quickly. He hasn't even been here 12 hours."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,

"I think his family has money." I replied, hoping to get him to drop it.

"Ohh…." Was all he said. I guess money was a good enough excuse.

We reached the meeting point. A big, burly man dressed in a medical uniform asking for the made-up patient name. So this was mystery phone man… The guy was huge.

I confirmed that this was indeed that patient trying my best not make anyone near by suspicious. Two more men dressed in similar uniform approached. I told the orderly he could leave and that the others would take it from here. I informed the orderly I would personally see the patient off. I prayed the orderly kept his mouth shut and didn't do anything to fuck this up. I helped wheel the patient outside and to the medical van they acquired. None of the people this mystery guy brought were actual medical personal so I would tell him how to load and get the patient situated for travel. The medical van was parked in the spot I suggested. When we loaded up the still unconscious man, none of the hospital staff had a clear view. If anyone one else was paying attention then were just seeing the front of the van and bits and pieces of what was going on. After instructing how to load him up and then helping, because they had no clue what they were doing, I saw they had real medical equipment in the van. I started a new i.v., hooked up a heart monitor, and oxygen as a precaution. I made sure the gurney was locked and that everything was safe for travel.

"Okay, he should be fine, assuming it is a short distance to where you are headed. I know you aren't taking him to a medical facility, but wherever you are going, you really should get a doctor to monitor him."

I went to turn to leave and the big, burly, mystery phone man was blocking my way, with a gun pointed at me.

"That`s why you're coming with us," He replied.

Author Note: Cliff hanger! Don't kill me lol

So here is the deal with updates: I will update once a week. I don't have a set day or anything. Since it is early in the story, I have a pretty good lay out in my mind of the next several chapters. Meaning chapters might get out faster. So there may another chapter up by the end of the week. Just know that every time I post a chapter, I will try to have another one up within 7 days after.