Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
KATERINA
I ’m not entirely sure what line we just crossed, but I know we crossed one and I pushed us over it. I did not have ‘suggest fake dating to my dad’s oldest friend’ on my bingo card for this year. Shit. What have I done?
I’ve wanted this man for longer than I care to admit, and he’s never shown the slightest hint of attraction since that night. In return, I’ve done a spectacular job of avoiding him for the past few years. The last time we spent more than thirty minutes in each other’s company was at Aurora’s wedding, and look how that ended.
I close my eyes tight, trying to block out the memories of my spectacularly poor life choices that evening. Just a few of the many reasons I avoid Stefano… and kamikaze shooters. In my defence, he kissed me back… before rejecting me, leaving me devastated and fleeing the scene of my humiliation. That’s a hangover I’m still reco vering from four years later, and just his presence is bringing every detail of that ravenous kiss flooding back.
A kiss he’s never even mentioned since. He’s made it perfectly clear that I’m nothing more than Dante’s daughter. A member of the family. An obligation.
So why the fuck was he acting like a possessive alphahole from the minute he stepped through my front door tonight? His behaviour is like an earthquake, shifting the ground beneath my feet, making it impossible to know what’s real.
Technically, this is all his fault. As soon as I felt his hands on me, something in my physiology rewrote itself, and I knew I’d do anything to keep his eyes on mine. He looked like he wanted to devour me. The heat of his gaze, his touch, his overwhelming presence, sent flurries of goosebumps roaming across my skin. It was as torturous as it was hot as hell.
I wander back towards the kitchen and tidy away our glasses into the dishwasher, pausing to enjoy the scent of the amber liquid in his glass. It’s an oaky aged malt with undertones of ginger that warm my nose as I inhale the remnants. It’s been in my drinks cabinet for years. I maintain it’s for when my dad visits, but deep down I’ve always known it’s a lie. It’s as much Stefano’s favourite as it is my father’s. However, keeping a $400 bottle of whiskey stocked for a man who, until now, had never stepped foot in my house would be crazy.
I grab my glass, pour myself a finger of it and head up the stairs.
When I reach my bedroom, I put my drink down and strip, tossing my clothes at the hamper and missing. I leave them where they fall and wonder if Stefano was here would he straighten them up like he did my hallway? I didn’t miss that he’d put away my shoes and hung up my bag. It should irk me that he felt the need to tidy my things in my house, but it doesn’t.
I’ve never wanted or needed anyone to take care of me, but when I think about Stefano taking care of me, it wouldn’t be something I minded. At all.
Sitting at my dresser, I start my skincare routine. I’m not one to waste my time with endless lotions and potions, but as a woman in my thirties, not using the basics is foolish. Not to mention, these are the few moments each day where I get to look after myself. This and when I manage to grab some time in my home gym. What with my shifts at the hospital and my second job patching up the Cosa Nostra’s stab wounds and bullet holes, it feels like I don’t get a moment to myself these days.
When I’m finished with the face cream, I take a swig of my drink, enjoying the sensation as the whiskey warms me from the inside out. Then, reaching for the rose quartz gua sha, I revel in the contrasting temperature as I run its cool surface over my skin, massaging out the tension of the day. I have no idea what I’m doing or if there’s any benefit to it, but I just enjoy how it feels, and it’s become part of my nightly ritual.
I have to be back at the hospital in eight hours, so I set the four hideously loud alarms I’ll need to coax me out of my pit in the morning before crawling under the covers. I down the dregs of the whiskey and wonder if it would taste even better on Stefano’s lips. My heart sinks a little, knowing I’ll never find out.
It’s been a long shift, and while Danny’s persistent attentions worked out great for my patients—he’s a phenomenal nurse—he’s been tapdancing on my last fucking nerve as he seems to be everywhere, constantly needing my input on charts or approvals for fuck-knows-what.
Thank God I have residents I can offload him onto. In order to get some peace, I’ve set them a challenge. Whoever keeps Danny out of my hair for the longest, gets to scrub in on the next massive abdominal trauma. It’s not like it’s a huge sacrifice on my part. All of them are perfectly capable—I wouldn’t have them on my service if they weren’t—but at least this way, I’m killing two birds with one stone. Danny and my residents have been AWOL for the last hour.
There’s a series of aggressive beeps from my pager that have me rummaging around in the deep pocket of my doctor’s coat till I find it. Glancing at the screen, it seems I’ve been summoned to the nurse’s station on four.
Fuck. I knew my luck would run out sooner or later.
It doesn’t take more than five minutes to make my way back up to the surgical floor. I’m approaching the nurse’s station when an arm wraps around my waist and turns me towards a tall, warm body. My hackles rise, ready to give whoever has the audacity to touch me a piece of my mind, only to notice the arm in question is wrapped in a bespoke charcoal grey suit. I’m overwhelmed with a rich scent of oud and bergamot, which has me relaxing into his hold. I know who it is before our eyes meet.
Stefano.
“Sorry, darling, I just couldn’t wait to see you.” His lips are pressed to mine before I can register his words. The kiss is soft and delicate, his lips muffling but not silencing my squeal of surprise, and there’s no concealing the satisfied moan that slips out from my lips. My mind is clouded with need and ignites every feeling I’ve long suppressed for this man.
In the second it takes for reality to sink in, he steals the weight of his lips from mine. I almost stamp my foot in annoyance. Not because he kissed me, but because I didn’t have time to enjoy it. What’s more, I’m speechless. Which is very unlike me.
“I… uh…” Words aren’t wording right now.
Shaking my head, I attempt to pull myself together, but it’s difficult when every romantic thought I’ve ever had about Stefano is rampaging through my mind like a stampede of wild horses. I’m pulled out of my fantasy world by the nurses chattering and the bitch who always screws up my charts muttering ‘old enough to be her father’. I’m ready to tell her where she can shove her opinion when Stefano rests a hand on my lower back and drags my focus back to him.
“I know you weren’t expecting me, but I thought I could surprise you and take you for a coffee.” Stefano pauses and gestures towards someone behind me. “ Nurse Costello here was just telling me that the cart out front has the best coffee in the hospital. Isn’t that right, Danny?”
There’s an awkward pause as I pivot to face him. “Hi, Danny.” My voice is thin and painfully awkward. I feel like a teenager who’s just been busted trying to sneak her boyfriend up to her room.
What’s worse is Danny looks devastated, like a puppy who’s lost his favourite chew toy. Why I ever agreed to go on a date with him escapes me as I look into his sad eyes. All he needs is a quivering lip, and I’ll truly feel like the villain in his story. He was never going to compare to what I want in a man. I’m ruined for anyone who’s not gruff, dominant, and able to handle my attitude. Preferably someone in a tailor-made suit and carrying a gun.
“Err… yeah. Enjoy your coffee,” he replies, his voice meek and his face crestfallen. He grabs a chart from the rack, turns, and retreats down the corridor without another word.
Great. Now I’m the bitch who humiliated him in front of all his co-workers. My hands are firmly on my hips and my toe is already tapping by the time I turn back to face Stefano. The arrogant smirk plastered across his face makes me want to slap it clean off of him.
He leans into me again, taking my elbow in his palm and steering me along the hallway. His low rumble drags itself across the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Not here, Katerina. You can unleash your vicious tongue once we’re fully caffeinated.”
Biting the inside of my cheek does nothing to stifle my growl of frustration, but it does stop the tirade of words I want to hurl at him. I force what I’m hoping is a convincing smile, and follow along, if only to escape the shocked expressions of my colleagues. Not once in the years I’ve worked here has anyone I’ve dated visited at the hospital.
I’m aware that most of them think I’m a heartless bitch. Well, the other surgeons don’t because they’re almost all built to exude the same cold detachment necessary to carve people open on a daily basis. For male doctors, that makes them strong, stoic, and dependable. As a female surgeon, that same professionalism makes me a callous narcissist, incapable of enticing any man. At least that’s the sentiment of the hospital grapevine.
If that’s how they want to view me, so be it. I’ve never been one to get hung up on people’s opinions of me. Unless you're feeding, financing, or fucking me, why should I? Plus, it’s been a long time since I’ve needed anyone to take responsibility for any of those things. My side hustle for the Cosa Nostra pays handsomely and has wiped out the debt I amassed at med school. I’m yet to find a man who cooks better than my local takeout restaurants, and I have a drawer in my bedside table that, when paired with my rather vivid imagination, keeps me in orgasms.
Sure, I’ve dated over the years. There was the professor who thought the belly button was an erogenous zone, the stockbroker who thought the size of his portfolio offset his stunningly dull personality and the architect who had entirely too many opinions on why Bella should have picked Jacob. The problem with working pretty much every waking hour is that you mostly only bump into people in the line getting your morning coffee, and this back catalogue of mediocrity is why I’ve bought my own coffee machine.
It doesn’t take long to navigate our way through the maze of corridors out into the afternoon sun. I look up and bathe in the warmth of it. Stefano walks us towards a bench off to the side of the courtyard and finally meets my eyes. He has the gall to smirk at my glare.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I grind out, but he simply shakes his head before pushing my shoulder lightly, encouraging me to sit down.
“Sit. First coffee, then shouting,” he says with a smile.
His words do nothing to bring my boiling rage to a simmer, but what surprises me more than the fact I obey him, is that I want to obey him. There’s something about the way he speaks to me that has my core clenching and my nipples peaking. A note of authority that for once, I don’t want to rebel against quite so much.
I perch myself on the bench and turn to catch the first softening rays of the setting sun. I can’t remember the last time I spent any time outside the hospital walls mid-shift. Sure, we have breaks, but I normally use them to grab a shower or catch up on charting with a snack from the cafeteria. Hospital, work, home, sleep, occasional family emergency, repeat. This is the most Vitamin D I’ve been exposed to in what feels like forever.
The changing colours in the sky lull me into a far more reasonable mood. Completely against my will. I glance back towards the kiosk and see Stefano at the counter, adding sugar to my coffee. It shouldn’t make me happy that he knows how I take it because he’s been in my life for as long as I can remember, but our history is also why this is a terrible idea, and what’s worse is that it was my terrible idea.
Why did I open my big mouth? I’m a masochist, that’s why.
I only said it to shock him. To get him to drop this ridiculous interest in a situation I’m perfectly capable of handling myself. Admittedly, he was right. I do need to take it more seriously, which is why I was going to have a word with Danny today. Deal with it myself, but oh no, Stefano’s decided to entangle himself in a career I’ve managed to keep entirely separate from the family for years.
Heavy-handed, sexy-as-fuck, pig-headed, salt-n-pepper fox.
I’m so confused right now. I can’t tell if I’m angry or turned on or both.
“So let me have it, then.” His words snap me out of my trip down memory lane. He takes a seat next to me and hands me my coffee. His posture is relaxed, and that pisses me off even more.
“You can’t just waltz into my hospital and make a unilateral decision that affects my career. What the hell are you playing at? Publicly marking your territory in front of the whole damn floor. You might as well have pissed on me for how subtle you were.”
“In my defence?—”
He’s holding up a palm as if he’s trying to calm a wild animal, which only serves to wind me up further. “There is no defence for this, Stefano. How dare you insert yourself into my life. You have no right.”
“I think you’ll find it was your idea,” he says with a small, mischievous little shrug. This man is so fucking confusing. I can’t tell if I want to fight him or fuck him. It’s maddening.
“I wasn’t serious. And I sure as shit didn’t think you’d rock up the next day and run with it. This is ridiculous. You couldn’t—I don’t know—discuss it with me first?”
He drops his gaze to his coffee, looking oddly embarrassed all of a sudden. I swear there’s colour flushing his cheeks. I don’t think I can remember a single time where I’ve seen a sheepish expression on his face. I mouth off and he smirks. It’s our routine. We have it down pat. It catches me off guard and I find myself lost for words, letting the pause grow into an awkward silence.
“You have a point.”
“Of course I have a point. Exactly how am I supposed to explain this to my dad? What if it gets back to him?”
He grimaces and I shouldn’t find it endearing, but I do. He looks genuinely uncomfortable at the prospect of explaining this to my dad.
“You’re a pain in my ass, Tiero,” I say, trying to lighten the mood a little. A smile warms his features, and it diffuses my temper. A little.
“You want the truth?” he asks, running the tip of his index finger around the lid of his coffee cup.
“Always.”
“I didn’t plan it. I came to check him out, heard him talking about you with another nurse and?— ”
“Lost your mind?”
“Maybe. But I needed to do something. Everything is so out of control right now. I’m a consigliere with no don to serve. We’re on the verge of a war, and we don’t know who we’ll be fighting. My hands are tied until we know more. There’s nothing I can do. But this, this I can do something about. I know you think I’m being ridiculous, but just for a moment, can you humour an ‘old man’ as you so kindly put it?”
I choke a little on my coffee. “Well, when you put it like that…” I reach out a hand to his forearm and squeeze, trying to reassure him that I understand where he’s coming from. Our gazes collide and the space between us feels heavy with a million things I want to say, but know I shouldn’t. It’s not my place to soothe him, even if all I want to do is hug him right now. Instead, with as much lightness as I can inject into my tone, I say, “Hey, you may be a bossy, overbearing pain in my ass, but you’re not old, Stefano.”
“I’m closer to your father’s age than yours,” he says, arching a brow.
“It would be great if you didn’t mention that, as you had your lips on mine ten minutes ago. That’s just creepy.” I fake a little shudder to hammer home my point.
“Fair,” he says with a chuckle, and I light up inside, feeling a little smug that I was able to coax out that sexy-as-fuck dimple.
“So, we’re really trying this? Fake dating?” I ask. There’s a slight tremble in my voice, not because I wouldn’t love spending more time with him, but because I worry I’ll love it too much .
“Well, you won’t let me kneecap him,” he responds, dimple still activated and playful smirk with it. That dimple is going to be the key to my ruin. “It’s not like we need to do a lot. I’ll swing by every now and again, and you just start telling everyone about your hot new boyfriend.”
“My, we’re full of ourselves, aren’t we?”
“You could do worse, Doctor Mancini.” I can’t help but laugh at this side of him he’s showing me. I’ve missed this. The gentle, teasing, and playful conversation. A pang of sadness creeps into my chest, reminding me how I wish my feelings didn’t make it so hard to be near him.
“True,” I concede. “But if I agree to this, you can’t just rock up whenever you feel like it.” I try and fail to tamp down the hint of unease in my tone. It’s not that I object to him turning up, it’s more that I’ve gone to great lengths to keep my career separate from anything remotely Cosa Nostra, and it unnerves me to have the two coming together so suddenly.
“I’ll text you. I won’t surprise you again, but the frequency of my visits will depend on how quickly Danny-boy takes the hint.”
“I can work with that. Hopefully it won’t be too long. I wouldn’t want to distract you from your day job.” I swear I catch a hint of disappointment in his expression. Which would be crazy because he’s the one who rejected me after our kiss at Aurora’s wedding. Burying that thought, I take a sip of my coffee and continue, “Are we telling Dad about this arrangement? I’d rather not split his focus. When the don’s death becomes public knowledge, he’s going to have enough on his plate. His men are not going to take it well. Plus, you’ve seen Danny now. He’s a minor inconvenience at worst. I don’t need the full wrath of the Cosa Nostra being unleashed on him, which is exactly what my dad will demand if he finds out.”
He considers my words before nodding. “We’ll keep it between us for now. I’ll admit, he looks about as dangerous as a marshmallow knife.”
The snort that erupts from my nose takes both of us by surprise. Well, that was the least sexy noise I’ve ever made and only serves to make me feel inadequate compared to Stefano Tiero. He always exudes a power that feels like it’s ingrained in his DNA. And it’s quite possibly one of his sexiest qualities.
He's a man who radiates the biggest of big dick energies. He could end a man with the flick of his wrist… but also finish a woman with the same.
Thankfully, he ignores my graceless reaction and continues. “We’ll try it your way. For now. You make sure everyone knows how happy you are with your new boyfriend, and I’ll keep an eye on Danny—” I try to interrupt and protest the need for surveillance, however light, but he steamrollers over me. “That part is non-negotiable. I’ll be keeping tabs on him if I feel it’s necessary. Besides, Aurora needs you on call for the foreseeable future and the last time you were needed, he delayed you with his bullshit. He’s paying far too close attention to you, and we can’t afford any civilian loose ends entangling themselves in our business.”
Well, that told me.
“Don’t fight me on this. You won’t win, Katerina.” His voice is deep and rich, edged with an authoritative rasp and stern tone that has me wanting to clench my thighs together. There’s a part of me that’s revelling in the idea that a man like Stefano is making my safety a priority. But I’m not going to admit that to him.
“Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice, does it now?” I say, doing my best impression of a petulant teenager.
“No, you don’t.” He takes my cup and tosses it in the trash along with his own before reaching for my hand and pulling me up. “Now go back to work. I’ll see you soon.”
Leaning into me, he lays a gentle peck on my cheek and heads off towards the town car I didn’t notice idling in the drop-off zone.
“I never knew you were this bossy, Stefano,” I shout after him.
“Yes, you did,” he calls, turning to glance back over his shoulder and hitting me with a wry smile. “And you love it.”