The Paralyzed Mafia Boss Violently Shoved His Therapist to the Floor — Until She Locked His Wheelchair Brakes

Tessa didn't yell anymore. She didn't need to. She had successfully stripped the apex predator of his physical mobility, entirely neutralizing his violent advantage.

She slowly, deliberately leaned her upper body forward, bringing her face incredibly close to Massimo’s heavily stubbled jawline. She raised her right hand and pointed one single, completely unwavering finger directly at the terrifying mafia boss’s face, entirely ignoring the danger.

Massimo went completely, absolutely still. The intense, blinding fury in his dark eyes suddenly shifted, replaced by a strange, deep, and highly reluctant fascination as he stared up at the fierce, fearless brunette standing over him.

"ONE—YOU GO WILLINGLY," Tessa stated, her voice dropping into a cold, incredibly precise, and absolutely uncompromising tone that commanded the entire room. "TWO—I MAKE YOU GO."

She held his gaze, refusing to blink, silently promising him that she was entirely prepared to stand in this bathroom for the next twelve hours if that was what it took to break his stubborn, self-destructive pride.

"You aren't a tough guy right now, Mr. Pascale," Tessa whispered harshly, her words slicing through his arrogant ego like a surgical scalpel. "You're just a terrified patient hiding from a shower because you're scared of needing help. I don't care how many people you command in the streets. In this room, you are my patient, and we are going to start your rehabilitation today, whether you like it or not. Are we clear?"

Massimo stared at her pointed finger. He looked at her fierce, expressive eyes. For the first time in six excruciating months, someone wasn't treating him like a fragile, broken glass doll, and they weren't treating him like an untouchable, terrifying god. She was treating him like a human being who simply needed to do his damn physical therapy.