“By loving another,” she says, reaching up to wipe my wet cheeks. “You get over one man by falling in love with another one. I always hoped that you and I would become sisters for real—that you’d marry one of my brothers… Hey, maybe you could date Lorenzo. He’s the only one of my four brothers who is still single, besides Antonio.”
I laugh at the image of the most tech-obsessed of the Rossi brothers slips into my mind. The youngest of the brothers is just as muscular and intimidating as his older siblings. But I’m not attracted to him the same way as I am Antonio. “I don’t think Lorenzo is capable of falling in love with anything without wires and a power button.”
She chuckles, “You’re right. But I still have hope that he’ll find someone. Just like you will.”
"Well, there is someone…" I start as my mind shifts to a man who's expressed his interest in me for weeks. I suppose being on the receiving end of a one-sided love makes me sympathize with him a little, and now, I find myself wondering if maybe I should explore things with him. "He's a temporary coverage radiologist at the hospital.”
“What’s he like?”
"Handsome, I suppose. At least the nurses think he is. I never really paid much attention to him because, well…"
“Antonio,” she nods sympathetically but doesn’t allow me to slip into sadness as her hand slips into my coat pocket and grabs my phone. “Text him. Invite him for coffee today after work.”
“W-what?”
“You want to get over Antonio, right?”
I nod, biting my lip as I stare at the phone in her hands. “I want to get over him.”
“Then email him. His contact info should be in the hospital directory, right? Invite him for coffee. If it doesn't work out, that's alright. You can always go on another date, but if it does…"
I could have a whole other life outside the one I dreamed about last night. I’ve never wanted or entertained any other man from the second I fell for Antonio Rossi. I’ve always compared them to him, and they never lived up to the man Antonio was…and is. Not in looks and not in the way he makes me feel.
But Antonio doesn’t love me. I need to move on, somehow.
Gabriella shrieks with excitement when I grab the phone from her and bring up the hospital directory, quickly typing a message to Dr. Matthews before I can change my mind. A response pops up within minutes, asking me out to dinnerinstead. As I stare at the message, I realize that I’m about to go on my first date.
And it’s not with Antonio.
Chapter Two
Antonio
Someone tried to kill me.
They failed, terribly at that, seeing how they only managed to shoot my fucking leg. It’s a miracle that nothing vital was hit. It was blind luck that they hit anything at all. The shots were made from a moving car, but whoever fired them meant to kill me.
It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.
I experienced my first attempt fourteen years ago when I was twenty-three. Got into a fight with some fuckers who hated me because I was a Rossi. I was hotheaded and stupidly believed that it would be a fair fight. Matteo and I against four of them—bad odds, but we were young and arrogant. We were winning, too, until one of the bastards pulled a knife. Slashed my palm open when I blocked the blow.
He was aiming for the neck.
At least back then, I knew who wanted me dead and fought back even with a bleeding hand, but yesterday was different. Whoever shot me was afraid to be recognized, hence the reason they had a cap pulled low over their eyes. Since he missed my head, I can only assume he wasn't a professional sent to take me out.
And now, I’m stuck in bed running through the mental list of the people in New York who want me dead.
“What’s with the sour face?”
I glance up to watch Matteo step into the room. I’ve heard before that we look the most alike. He and I were born Irish twins, with only an eleven-month age gap between us, so we were very close growing up. He, more than anyone else, understands how lying in bed all day doing nothing is driving me insane.
“What the fuck took you so long?” I ask, sitting up, careful not to disturb the injury. As fun as it sounds to have Emilia tend to me, I'm not exactly looking forward to getting new stitches if I tear open my wound. “Did you think it was fun to keep an invalid waiting?”
“I have a life and a wife, something you wouldn’t know anything about,” Matteo retorts as he keeps the door open. I don’t realize why until Lorenzo, our youngest brother, follows in with his laptop. "Are you going to keep whining, or do you want to start work on finding your shooters?”
“About fucking time.”
Matteo walks to the window, and Enzo approaches the recliner to sit, but I must make some noise as he stops and turns to look at me. “What?”
