CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
francesca
The steady hum of monitors and the rhythmic beeping of IV pumps filled my ears as I stepped onto the post-op floor. The familiar scent of antiseptic and clean linens enveloped me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in weeks, I felt grounded—back in a space where life made sense and my purpose was clear. Here, I wasn’t Conall O’Kelly’s wife. I wasn’t tied to a world of crime, power plays, and carefully worded threats.
Here, I was just me.
“Look who has finally decided to grace us with her presence!”
I turned to see Sandra, one of the more experienced nurses, leaning against the nurse’s station with her arms crossed. Her graying curls were pulled into a messy bun, and her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Oh, please,”
I said, taking hold of my assignment clipboard. “I was just away for a few days.”
“A few days,”
Sandra drawled. “And now you waltz in here with that—”
she pointed directly at my left hand, “blinding my poor old eyes.”
I tugged my sleeve down slightly, as though that would help. “It’s… complicated.”
Sandra gave me a knowing look. “Honey, you just got married, and complicated is the word you’re starting with?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Yeah, that summed it up. How was I supposed to explain that my marriage wasn’t some fairy-tale romance but rather a strategic alliance between powerful families? That my husband was one of the most feared men in New York? That beneath his polished exterior lay a world of violence? That I was catching feelings for him anyway?
Instead, I shrugged. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
Sandra huffed. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. But you’re not avoiding girl talk forever. Now, go check on Mr. Donnelly before he buzzes just to complain that he needs extra pudding again.”
I chuckled and grabbed a fresh pair of gloves before heading down the hall.
Mr. Donnelly was already mid-grumble when I stepped into his room.
“You again?”
he grumbled as I checked his IV. “At least you’re better than that other one—the tall one with the ponytail. She keeps trying to cheer me up. Useless.
I smirked. “Oh no, not optimism. The horror.”
He snorted. “You’re sarcastic. I like that.”
His eyes drifted down to my hand as I adjusted his blanket. “Hey, what’s that?”
I followed his gaze to my ring. Damn it. The ring was causing more of a stir than I wanted it to. I had meant to take it off before my shift, but in the rush to leave and while dodging a goodbye kiss from Conall, which I wasn’t sure how to process yet, I’d forgotten.
“Got hitched,”
I admitted.
The old man let out a hearty laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned! You’ve finally found someone to put up with you.”
“He must be a patient man,”
a voice said from the doorway. I turned to see Amy, another nurse, leaning against the frame with a grin on her face.
“He’s got his hands full,”
I quipped.
Mr. Donnelly shook his head. “Well, I hope you’re getting a decent honeymoon. When my wife and I got married, we went to Atlantic City and lost all our money in just one day. It was the best time of my life.”
I smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
After checking his vitals and confirming he had everything he needed, I stepped back into the hallway, where Amy joined me.
“So,”
she said in a singsong voice. “Details. Spill.”
I groaned. “Not you, too.”
Amy nudged me. “Oh, absolutely! Me too. Sandra’s betting that he’s a rich businessman. I think you secretly married a rock star.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re both wrong.”
Amy pouted. “You’re no fun.”
“I am fun, just not at work.”
She sighed dramatically. “Fine. But we’re going to get drinks one of these days.”
I simply smiled, turning toward the room of my next patient. While I enjoyed the antics of Amy and Sandra, I wasn’t ready to share the whole truth.
In this hospital, I could simply be Francesca—not a mafia wife or someone entangled in a world of power and bloodshed, but just a nurse helping people. That was exactly what I needed.