Page 10 of Brutal Heir
With an eye roll, her guard diverts his attention to the other guy, who now that I’ve stared at them for long enough, could easily be his brother. They share the same distinguished Roman nose, darting eyes and impressive physiques.
“Like I said, just pretend they’re not here.” Serena props her elbows on the table, taking a quick sip of her matcha.
But now that I’ve seen the bodyguards, I can’t unsee them. They remind me of Seamus and Finn, and another lifetime.
Drawing in a breath, I bury the past to the dark recesses where they belong and focus on the present. “Can you tell me more about Alessandro? You said he was severely burned? How?”
When I arrived to Manhattan a year ago, my first patient was a burn victim. A rueful smile curves my lips as memories of cranky old Paddy Flaherty fill my mind. He’s one of the few patients I regularly keep in touch with, which reminds me, I owe him a visit.
Returning my attention to the present, the girls exchange a glance. It’s something I’ve noticed they do often, as if they know each other well enough that words aren’t necessary between them. A tiny pang of longing fills my chest as I think of my best friend who I haven’t been able to speak to in an entire year. When I ran fromhim, I was forced to cut ties with everyone. I only hope Maeve is okay.
“Ale’s great,” Isabella starts. “He’s smart and witty?—”
Serena holds her hand up, cutting her off. “He’s an asshole, let’s be real.”
“Sere!”
“What? There’s no point in sugar-coating the truth. Rory is going to realize what a pain in the ass he is the moment she meets him. It’s better she knows what she’s getting into.”
“Alessandro is not an asshole,” Isabella mutters. “He’s just been through a lot in the last few months.”
“Listen, I’m not saying it’s his fault, but he’s become a moody, temperamental bastard on top of the arrogant, conceited bastard he once was.” Serena glances from her cousin to me.
“You’re really selling him, lasses.” I snort on a laugh.
Serena reaches across the table, grabbing my hand, and my eyes jump up to meet hers. “Seriously, Rory, what happened to Alessandro is all my fault. He came to Milano to help me, and there was a freak explosion on the runway…” Her bubbly expression darkens and the familiar pang of loss rushes through my veins. “He suffered third degree burns across nearly half his body…”
The rest of her words are muffled beneath the sudden roar of my pulse across my ears.
Explosion.
The word detonates across the ache in my chest, reminding me of my earlier doubts. Had it been an attempt on the Gemini heir’s life? Are the mafia rumors actually true? I can’t… I feckin’ refuse to ever go back to that grisly life again.
I nearly open my mouth to ask more about the incident when Serena continues.
“I need to make this right, somehow. Alessandro refuses help from any of us, and he’s already chased away more than one nurse. He needs someone who’s going to call him out on his bullshit and force him to move forward, to heal.”
“And on the medical side,” Isabella cuts in, slipping into what I easily recognize as a practiced bedside manner, “he’ll need someone to oversee wound care and dressing changes,administer medications, any bathing and hygiene assistance, and physical therapy support.”
“Of course.” I easily slip into the role, too. Since I was little, all I ever wanted was to be a nurse. And as I got older, I was driven by my desire to heal not just others, but maybe a part of me too.
“And the pay is good, like really good,” Isabella adds. “It’ll be way more than what you make at the hospital. All you have to do is meet with our Uncle Marco and go through all the security and background checks.”
I swallow hard, hoping they don’t notice the sudden fear that surges at her words. No one has questioned my credentials so far, but I’ve never been checked out by the mob, or possible mob, I remind myself.
“So, what do you say?” Serena’s eyes are filled with so much hope, so much desperation that I can’t say no.
Besides, I don’t exactly have the luxury of being picky right now. If it doesn’t work out, at least I will have made some money out of it and gotten a free place to sleep for a few weeks.
Taking a steadying sip of the warm latte, I meet the cousins’ anxious gazes. “Sure, what the hell do I have to lose?”
CHAPTER 5
ENOUGH
Alessandro
“Fuck,” I grit out as I peel off the bandages, unwinding them around my abdomen. I only allow myself a moment to stare at the scarred, ruined skin beneath the white gauze before squeezing my eyes shut. Half of the tattoos that inked my skin are a blotchy, mottled mess just like the flesh beneath.
