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“I never said it did. But you’re judging me from your moral high ground without understanding a damn thing about my life.”
“I know that you chose it.”
Her response cuts deeper than she realizes. Most people fear me. Desire me. Rarely does anyone challenge me.
An electric current races down my spine, straight to my groin.
“I own what I am. The world needs balance. Without people to hurt and be hurt, there wouldn’t be much value in people who heal.” My voice drops. “Sometimes people like you are tightly wound because they need release. Do you have a lover, Dottoressa, or should I offer my services?”
Her reaction comes faster than I’m prepared for. Her expression opens, her lower lip trembles, and then, her right hand strikes my cheek. The slap snaps my head sideways, and my face ignites with a sharp sting.
I bring my fingers to the surely reddening spot, my gaze never straying from hers, which is wet with either fury or hurt. Maybe both.
She growls like a raving lioness. “Get. Out.”
A dark, satisfied curl settles in my chest as I stride away, my face still burning.
I walk through the hospital’s automatic doors, my side throbbing in time with my pulse. A dull reminder of my poor decisions and even worse timing.
I have no plans to go back to the villa yet, so I sit on the hood of one of the cars in the lot and shoot Nico a text that I’m done.
He replies instantly, asking me to wait.
After about half an hour, a black Mercedes glides into the lot and stops near me. Enzo Ricci climbs out first, wearing a long dark coat. His eyes look nearly black as they sweep over me, cataloguing every detail the way a man does when assessing a problem.
Nico follows, smirking. “I told you he’d still be here, Padrino.”
Enzo nods, closes the distance, and grasps my shoulder. “You look like shit, fratello.”
A corner of my mouth lifts. “You should see the other guy.”
Enzo’s grip tightens a fraction. “I’m glad you’re still breathing. Come with me.”
We climb into Nico’s Mercedes, and as soon as the doors shut, a heavy silence settles around us.
“Why’s the boss here?” I ask no one in particular.
Enzo scoffs. “Can’t even come pick up one of my most important men from the hospital?” He continues before I can answer. “You took a blade that was meant for me, and Sophia spent all night asking me if you were okay.”
I snicker. “Tell her it’s just a scratch.”
“That scratch has you coming back to the hospital two days in a row, Marco.” Enzo’s gaze locks with mine. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
He holds the silence a beat longer than necessary, his dark eyes unblinking beneath heavy brows. There’s no warmth in Enzo Ricci’s face when he’s working, only a stillness that strips you bare and waits for you to fill the quiet with the truth he already knows. “Found something here that you like?”
Nico shifts in his seat, clearing his throat. “He reopened the wound this morning.”
“And no one could fix him up at the house?” That quip shuts down any additional help Nico might be looking to offer me. With my backup silenced, Enzo turns to me, his dark eyes boring into mine. “You said yourself that you saw the Volkov Bratva here last night. Can you explain the wisdom in my enforcer showing up here today with no backup? You might as well put a big fucking target on your back.”
The padrino’s clearly in no mood to suffer fools. Enzo gets like this when the safety of his men or family is at risk, which is often since our enemies are gathering to protest Enzo taking the Benedetti throne when he’s not a blood heir.
I run a hand through my hair. “It won’t happen again.”
Enzo studies my face until understanding settles into his. “It’s the doctor. I watched you flirt with her while you bled all over her trauma bay, so don’t bother denying it. She must be something, to drag you back here two days running.”
I don’t have a response that won’t further incriminate me, so I just clear my throat, but Enzo continues speaking.
“Women like that are dangerous for men like us. They either make you tougher or leave you sloppy.”
