Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
KATERINA
PRESENT DAY…
W hy, when you’ve spent hours saving a patient’s life, do they try and fuck up all your hard work by crashing on you? Honestly, it’s just plain rude. Especially when it’s not related to the problem you’ve just fixed. I’d been seconds away from closing when the patient’s blood pressure dropped through the floor, and he arrested.
Of course, the cardiologist on call has kept us waiting, which is why I’m now elbow-deep in my patient’s chest cavity. I’m not averse to the exhilaration and thrill of dealing with complications, but I already saved this asshole once and I’m tired.
It’s taking longer than I would like to get the patient's vitals stabilised. I’m shouting for an extra hand to hold a clamp as the head of cardiology bursts into the operating room, finally deigning us with his presence.
“Nice of you to show up,” I mutter into the back of my surgical mask. Hoping rather than knowing that I said it quietly enough for the fabric to muffle my words.
“Have something to say to me?” Doctor Jenkins says as the surgical nurse secures his gloves.
While we’re technically peers, both heads of our departments, this prick goes out of his way to make sure everyone knows his seniority and specialty make him superior. I can’t deny, he’s a skilled doctor, but he’s also a narcissist with a god complex. He scrubs up reasonably well when he has to impress the hospital board, concealing his heinous personality behind a veneer of charisma, but whenever I see his charm in action, I’m reminded that no matter how you try to present yourself, it doesn’t change what you are. Even a waxed cunt is still a cunt.
I bite the inside of my cheek before I rattle off the chain of events that led to me cracking the patient’s chest. After a back and forth on the best course, we work quickly to get the patient stabilised. I expect Doctor Jenkins to dismiss me as soon as the danger has passed, and I’m ready to start a fight over needing to stay to ensure the hours of work resecting this colon haven’t been compromised. Instead, he surprises me by asking me to harvest the graft he needs for the bypass.
I can’t tell whether it’s because he rates me as a surgeon, or he just wants a captive audience to bask in his greatness. Either way, after waiting for the leg to be draped by the surgical nurses, I move into position to harvest his saphenous vein for graft. It doesn’t take long and then I’m relegated to the position of Doctor Jenkins’ surgical bitch, holding his clamps for the next three hours. There’s an art to his technique, though, at times, I wonder if his skill is born from talent or obsession.
By the time I make it to my locker, my head is pounding, and every throb sends pulses into my neck and shoulders, doing nothing but highlighting how tight they are. All I want to do is collapse, but instead, I lean forward and rest my head against the door, closing my eyes. Maybe I should just sleep in the on-call room tonight. I’m back on in ten hours anyway.
Then I remember that Danny’s on shift tonight, which means he’ll be pestering me every thirty minutes with things only I could help him with. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good nurse, but I swear if he doesn’t get over this little crush soon, I’m going to end up in front of HR for punching him in his lost little puppy-dog face. We went on one date and it was a disaster. He needs to move on and stop holding out for more.
There’s a loud buzzing and an offensively harsh vibration through the door of my locker, which makes me flinch and rub my temples. Opening the door, I reach straight for my phone, which lights up instantly with notifications. Fifteen missed calls and seven texts from Stefano Tiero. Shit . Something must be wrong. I scramble to call him without reading a single text.
He answers on the first ring, and before I can ask what the emergency is, he jumps in first. “What the fuck are you playing at, Katerina?” I wince as he shouts down the phone.
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard him raise his voice to anyone. I straighten my back as much as my aching muscles will allow, as if trying to bolster my resolve and remind myself that while this may be one of the most powerful men I know, he has no business telling me off. “Why the fuck are you shouting at me?” I say through gritted teeth.
There’s a pause, followed by a staccato cough as he clears his throat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is strained, but now at least it’s quieter, and my heart breaks a little when I realise that he must have found out about Aurora.
“Oh, I don’t know, Uncle Stefano… maybe because the son of a rival don had just killed his father-in-law as part of a fucking coup, left his wife for dead, and I was sworn to secrecy until she was safe. Until Aurora knew who she could trust, I had to keep my mouth shut. I couldn’t even tell Dad, so why are you giving me shit?” I rasp, my voice barely above a whisper as my eyes dart around the locker room, double checking I’m alone in here.
There’s another long pause and I’m baffled why, of all people, the Bianchi consigliere is contacting me about a situation as important as this one.
“That’s not what I— never mind. I met with Aurora, Enzo, and Nico today, and we need to talk,” he says, his voice more controlled but still sounding so very unlike him. “When do you finish your shift?”
“I’m heading home now,” I say, unable to hide the weariness and letting out a half yawn .
“I’ll meet you there.” He hangs up before I can object.
It’s been a long fucking day and the last thing I need is to face the man I’ve been avoiding being alone with for just over four years. I cringe when I remember how I embarrassed myself at Aurora’s wedding. I should never have had those kamikaze shots.
Looking down at my blood-covered scrubs, I remember I still need to change. I reach to pull out my clothes, and a folded piece of notepaper flutters to the floor. I can’t stop the roll of my eyes as I bend to pick up today’s offering and unfurl it.
This day is going from bad to worse.
Did you know that the gold flecks in your irises are luminous under the OR lights? You come alive when you have a scalpel in your hand; it’s scintillating to watch you work. You have a graceful elegance that few women possess.
I drag my hand over my face. I don’t have time for my secret admirer today. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that, but I’m so over it now. It’s not every day, and it’s not like they’re offensive, but they border on creepy and are just enough to give me pause every time I find one. I know it’s just a locker, but it feels like an invasion of privacy to find them among my things. It’s been going on for weeks now, and I’m rapidly running out of patience.
I shove the note back in my locker and head to the showers to wash the day off before I head home to face Stefano Tiero. As I step under the spray, I make a wish that the water will wash away the flush of heat that chases a path across my skin when I think of seeing him tonight. I’ve had a long time to try and quash my feelings for him, and evidently, the only success I’ve had has been in fooling myself.