My captor walks with calm authority, as if this is routine for him. His hand never loosens, his stride never falters. I stumble once, my tote slipping against my hip, but he jerks me upright without a word.
The garage door creaks open, swallowing the van whole. Jimmy disappears inside, leaving me alone with the man who dragged me here. The silence stretches, broken only by the whisper of wind through the trees.
I’m ushered into the cabin, the front door opening onto a vast living space dominated by a stone fireplace. The expensive décor lends the room an unsettling coziness. I’m guided up the stairs to the right, down a corridor lined with closed doors, until we reach the last one. I freeze. White tiled floors, cabinets lining the far wall, and in the center—a hospital bed. The sterile atmosphere is jarring, more of an operating theatre than cabin retreat.
A tall man rises from the chair beside the bed, his sudden movement breaking the silence.
“What took you so long, Dante? The boss hasn’t woken up since we rescued him.”
My gaze shifts, and I see him—a large figure lying motionless on the bed, black hair damp with sweat clinging to his brow. His face is pale, bruised, and blood seeps into the bandage pressed against his shoulder.
My heart stutters. This isn’t just adrenaline. Even broken, he’s more compelling than the arrogant brute who kidnapped me. The resemblance between them is clear, but the blonde doesn’t stir me the way this man does.
“Oh my God! What did you do to him?” I rush to the bedside, staring down at the still figure. “What are you talking about, woman? Are you daft? Why would I bring you here to help my brother if I were the one who hurt him? He was kidnapped!” His voice bristles with insult, but when he looks at the man on the bed, he softens.
“Okay,” I whisper, forcing myself to focus. “I’ll do what I can to help him. What’s his name?” “Dominic Vitelli,” Dantereplies, pointing to the imposing figure. “My brother. And I’m Dante. This is Dario.”
I didn’t respond, too busy assessing my patient. Despite my conflicted reaction, my priority was clear: stop the bleeding. Leaning closer, I examined the wound. His shoulder was slick with blood, the edges ragged. My stomach tightened as I reached my conclusion.
He’s been stabbed.
“Let me wash my hands. I’ll start with his shoulder—I need to clean and suture the wound. You may have to restrain him if he wakes.”
I move quickly, rifling through the cabinets, surprised at how well stocked they are. Dante and Dario take their positions at Dominic’s sides, gripping his arms while I focus on the torn flesh.
The antiseptic stings the air as I work, needle and thread pulling skin together. Thankfully, he stays unconscious through the grueling procedure. By the time I’ve tended to the rest of his injuries, dawn is breaking, pale light spilling through the cabin windows.
Chapter 4
~Dominic~
As awareness returns, I’m overwhelmed with the intensity of pain, currently coursing through my body, especially originating from my back and right shoulder.Fucking hell!
Memories surge through me, unbidden. Images replay in my mind—chains, the sting of the whip, the blade tearing into my flesh. The suffocating darkness of captivity. The taste of blood. The moment I nearly died.
And then the betrayal. My uncle. My father’s younger brother, Salvatore. One of my trusted capos. The snake who orchestrated my kidnapping and left me for dead.
I try to move my right arm and gasp with a sudden burst of pain. This causes me to open my eyes suddenly. Momentarily, I’m blinded by the light streaming through the window. Blinking against the brightness, I try to clear my vision. Where the hell am I? A noise from the right side of my bed causes my gaze to snap in that direction. My eyes clash with that of an angel.
I must’ve died. That’s the only explanation. Her long black hair is mussed and streaming down in a curtain aroundher shoulders. Hazel eyes stare widely at me in surprise. She is sitting in an armchair pulled up to the right side of the bed I find myself lying on.
“You’re awake! I was starting to worry,” my angel says in a voice that stirs in me a sense of rightness and belonging. As my eyes become more focused, I recognize this room as the infirmary in my safe house in Upstate New York.
Dante and my men really did reach me in time. It wasn’t just a fading dream before I blacked out. But why bring me here? The only explanation that fits is that I was held somewherenearby. If not, they would have taken me straight to a safe house in Manhattan.
“You must be in pain… let me give you something for that, then I’ll get Dante,” she says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I watch her move from the cabinet back to my side, syringe in hand, and feel the sting of medication as she administers it.
“Who are you?” I rasp, barely recognizing my own hoarse voice. “I’m Elle Thomas, the doctor who was brought to… ah, help you.” She hesitates, and the pause is sharp enough to cut through the haze. There’s a story buried in that silence. Why her? Why the hell didn’t they use a Family doctor?
After administering my pain medication, she rushes out, leaving behind the faint scent of vanilla. Her beauty lingers, stirring in me an unfamiliar urge to protect her. Dante, my brother and underboss, and Dario, my cousin and head of security, burst into the room.
“My brother, we were worried. You lost a lot of blood, and then you had a fever when your wound became infected,” Dante says, his voice trembling with emotion. He places a gentle hand on my bandaged shoulder.
“If Dante hadn’t found Elle, I’m not sure you would’ve survived,” Dario adds from the other side of the bed. “Who the fuck is Elle, and why—” I snarl, the words cutting off in my throat.
“She’s the doctor we kidnapped from a nearby hospital,” Dante says before I can finish my question. “Are you two shitheads telling me that instead of contacting a Family doctor, you brought a stranger with no ties here?” I snarl, pain flaring in my shoulder and a pounding headache is rising.
“None of our doctors were available, cousin. You needed urgent care. By the time we found you, you’d lost too much blood and had become unresponsive.” I shake my head. Reckless, doesn’t even begin to describe these two.
