“Yes, Angel. Yes.”
Moments later, mischief danced in his eyes. “To be sure it sticks,” he teased between playful nibbles, “we’ll need plenty of practice.” I laughed, wondering how much more he thought we needed—we’d been insatiable, sneaking moments together whenever we could.
Just yesterday, Jimmy had burst into Dominic’s office after hearing a crash, only to find us tangled together, the desk lamp toppled. His face turned crimson as Dominic barked at him to leave, frozen in place with his weapon drawn, only to be met with the sight of Dominic’s bare backside. My embarrassment dissolved into helpless giggles.
Now, as Dominic leaned in for another kiss, I traced the tattoos across his chest, teasing a finger toward his nipple. “You know what they say,” I whispered playfully.
His voice became strained. “What do they say, Angel?”
“Practice makes perfect.”
His grin widened, melting my heart. “Then who am I to stand in the way of perfection—or our ultimate goal?” He crushed his mouth to mine, our hands roaming, exploring, claiming. And so, the night became ours again—spent in endless practice.
The elevator doors slide open onto the ground floor just as my phone begins to ring, pulling me back to the present. Sam’s name flashes across the screen—he must be on a break between cases.
“Hey, Elle darling, how was it?” His voice is as bright and cheerful as ever.
“Everything’s fine,” I answered, hesitating before clearing my throat. “Sam… Doctor Phillips mentioned Lamaze classes are starting next week. She thinks I should attend. Would you be able to come with me? I know it’s a lot to ask…”
He cuts off my rambling with his usual ease. “Hey girl, I’ve got your back. Just tell me when.”
Relief washes over me at his easy agreement. It’s my day off, and since my appointment was at the same hospital where I work, home is only a short walk away. Stepping outside into the chilly air, I smile. “Sam, let me repay you with dinner tonight at my place.”
“Rain check, girl? I’ve got a date with a hot radiologist.” His excitement makes me laugh. Sam has been pining after Doctor Steve Grant for weeks, finding excuses to pass by radiology just to catch a glimpse. Normally he flirts shamelessly with everyone, but around Steve he turns shy and tongue-tied—a sure sign of how much he really likes him.
“When did this happen?” I ask, suspicious, knowing full well he practically goes mute around Steve. “Well,” Sam begins, “I was passing by radiology during lunch when he came out of the MRI suite.” We both know there’s no way he justhappenedto be passing by—radiology is two floors above the operating theatre.
“When he spotted me, I pretended I was escorting a post-op patient on a stretcher waiting for a scan. I even grabbed his chart.” The image of Sam lurking and getting caught makes me laugh.
“Elle, I could barely get a word out while he stood there smiling at me. I wanted to sink through the floor when the nurse came back from the bathroom and snatched the patient’s records right out of my hand.”
“Oh my God, Sam!” I burst out, laughter spilling over as I catch the curious glances of people passing on the sidewalk. I laugh so hard my stomach aches, nearly doubled over. Sam’s own laughter rings through the phone, contagious and unrestrained.
When he finally manages to speak again, he continues, voice still broken by chuckles. “So, while the nurse and porter were wheeling the patient into the MRI suite, he stopped at the door. Asked if I was Sam from OT… and if I wanted to grab drinks tonight.”
By the time Sam finishes recounting his encounter, I’m stepping into my apartment building, still smiling, his excitement lingering in my ears like an echo of joy.
“I’m so happy for you, Sam.” I say as I lock the door behind me, slipping off my shoes with relief. My keys and purse land on the hall table, and I collapse onto my worn couch, propping my aching feet up.
“I’ll be waiting for every detail of your date,” I add with a grin. “I just got in, and you know I live vicariously through you, buddy. We’ll catch up later, okay?” “Sure, later darling,” he replies warmly before ending the call.
I shift into a comfortable position, letting the quiet of my apartment settle around me. Minutes pass and I’m still chuckling to myself, replaying Sam’s antics in my mind.
Chapter 45
~Dominic~
The siren wailed, but I blocked it out. They hadn’t wanted me in the ambulance, but I insisted—how could I not, when I might lose my brother? Dante lay barely conscious as EMTs worked, setting up fluids and monitors, trying to stem the bleeding.
“Dom?” His whisper cut through the chaos, flooding me with relief. “No, Dante. Don’t. Conserve your energy, brother.” His hand clutched mine. “I have to say this… you saved me all those years ago.” A fit of coughing wracked him, each spasm twisting his face in pain. When it passed, he rasped, “I’m sorry I lost Elle. She made you happy. You deserve to be happy.” My grip tightened unconsciously. “It wasn’t your fault—it was mine. I made her feel unwanted,” I said, desperate to ease his guilt.
I never realized he carried guilt over Elle’s disappearance. Yes, I lost control when I discovered she was gone—but Dante wasn’t to blame. The fault was mine. I should have confided in him before the men stormed Berisha’s mansion to rescue us. If I had spoken up, maybe he wouldn’t be burdened with this guilt.
Dante’s skin is pale, clammy, his breath shallow—anyone could see he was in agony. Yet even then, my brother worried more about my grief rather than his own pain. He squeezed my hand, a fleeting show of strength, before his body suddenly went limp.
The monitors erupted in alarm, shrill beeping filling the space. My heart lurched as the screen flashed a flat line. Panic surged through me. I bent over him, clutching his head against my chest.
“No! No! Dante! Please, save him!” My voice broke, desperation crippling me at the thought of losing my little brother.
