10. Bouquets and Bad Ideas #2
After I stored my belongings in the staff lounge lockers, I headed straight for the office I shared with Nita.
“Buonasera, Nita,” I smiled, walking in while Damiano took his position outside the glass door. “How has it been?”
“Good,” she replied. “Surprisingly quiet today. Who’s that?”
“Oh, um, Damiano, my personal bodyguard. My father’s a bit worried about how intense his campaign is at the moment, so he just wants to make sure I’m safe. I’m trying my best to just… carry on as normal.”
“Is this because of those cargo shipments of drugs and weapons they found at the port?”
“It’s best if we don’t discuss any of that,” I said with an apologetic smile before taking my seat behind my desk. “It’s nothing personal, but I’m not supposed to speak about my father’s campaign or any legal operations.”
“Got it. Forget I asked. Well, there are three reports to be filed, and the supply audit has been updated, but you might want to check it. The money from the fundraiser is being processed, so I guess we can start planning how to spend the budget. I still can’t believe we raised that much!
And over a million euros from Santino Buccini.
” She whistled, fanning her face as she stood up.
“That is one damn fine man. I’d love to personally thank him, if you know what I mean. ”
I forced a tight smile onto my face, but inside, I was a storm of chaos at just the mention of his name. “Have a good evening, Nita.”
“You too. Oh, I nearly forgot. Those came for you while you’ve been off. I put them in vases so they wouldn’t die before you could enjoy them. That last bunch arrived just an hour ago.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Who are you seeing?”
“No one,” I said, spinning my chair around towards the back of the room to find three enormous vases of the most elaborate flowers. Each bouquet was entirely different but equally stunning.
“Well, whoever he is, he’s a keeper.”
She breezed out of the office, and I sulked back into my swivel chair, closing my eyes.
Please... please be from Callum. We’d arranged a date for tomorrow afternoon, but something told me this wasn’t his doing.
Summoning my courage, I stood up and walked over to them, plucking the unopened cards from each bouquet with my handwritten name.
My heart pounded as I read the first one.
La mia bella ribelle,Here’s a flower for each hour that thoughts of you kept me awake last night.I picked these, exhausted but smiling.And I want to be the reason you smile at least once every day.So I’ll send flowers.
I’ll visit every florist in Rome.Think of them as a reminder.Someone, somewhere, is happily ruining his reputation over you. – S
It took me a full three seconds to realise I was smiling. I had to physically shake my head to wipe it off. This was not… This could not… No. I couldn’t fall for this. I should throw the flowers away. Why would I even open the other two cards? Only a stupid person would.
La mia bella ribelle,All it took was one moment.One look and my world tilted towards you.It started with your eyes, but it won’t end until you’re mine.– S
I hated the way my breath caught on the first line, and how the blush had crept up my neck by the last. The flowers were bright blue, the same shade as my eyes.
It was the most romantic note I’d ever received, yet that last line felt like a warning.
A fearful shudder raced down my spine as I tried to gauge just how sinister that warning was.
I tore today’s card open with trembling fingers, my heart already struggling to keep up with my frantic breaths.
La mia bella ribelle,Want to break a few more rules with me?– S
Shit. A hot flush caused my silk blouse to stick to my skin as I stared at the notes. Even his handwriting leapt off the page like his presence: sharp, alluring, and annoyingly confident.
This was bad. Really bloody bad. But surely if I ignored them, he’d stop. Did he really think I’d be lured in by beautiful flowers now that I knew who he was? I had to get them away from me.
Snatching up the first vase, I flung open my office door and headed down the corridor, feeling Damiano walking behind me silently.
I backed into the swinging doors of a ward and moved towards the first bed, where a frail old lady was sleeping.
I placed the flowers on her bedside table and headed back for the other two.
They were too beautiful to throw away, and at least this way, they’d be appreciated.
“Who are they from? A boyfriend?” Damiano asked as we walked back to my office.
My back bristled as I shot him a sideways glance.
I knew I should probably tell him, but it annoyed me that he’d asked so boldly, as if my personal life wasn’t my own.
Did he have the right to ask personal questions, or was his job simply to protect me from any imminent threats?
And was sending me flowers really threatening behaviour that needed to be reported?
If I told him, more questions would follow.
The flowers would stop soon. Santino wasn’t actually planning on sending me flowers every damn day.
“It’s a… subscription service.” Why was I lying? “Brightens the place up and lifts the patient’s spirits.”
He nodded once, his eyes briefly flicking down to my breasts before I disappeared into my office. This whole situation was so ?uncomfortable. And I’d curse Santino Buccini to hell for it.
I spent most of my shift in my office, trying to catch up on the growing mountain of paperwork, but by three a.m., my energy and concentration were on life support.
When I finally stood up after hours hunched over my desk, my back cracked in protest. Great, I was back to memories of his hands, the hands of a criminal, who could make that ache disappear so easily.
I needed a break. A jug of coffee and one of those chocolate eclairs from the vending machine in the ER were calling my name, but as I opened the door to my office, Damiano slid in front of me, blocking my path to the corridor.
“Signorina Caruso, I advise you to stay in your office for your own safety.”
I frowned, my eyes darting past his broad frame to scan the empty corridor. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Code yellow. A potential threat has been identified. Please stay inside your office.”
“Potential threat?” I blinked. “What type of potential threat?”
He sighed, pressing his finger against the earpiece as if we were in some over-the-top action film. “A man from your father’s list has been spotted at the hospital. The situation’s contained and under control, but it’s still wise to stay here.”
My heart did a little dive-and-flip in my chest. “Who?”
“Santino Buccini.”
My eyes widened as I gripped the file tighter. “What’s he doing here?”
“He’s been admitted to the ER.”
“As a patient?” I gasped.
“It seems so.”
I swallowed, biting my bottom lip. Was this truly a threat or merely a coincidence?
Coincidences follow that man like shadows.
I knew the sensible option was to stay in my office and listen to these professionals who were only trying to keep me safe, but rage and curiosity were replacing fear.
This was my hospital, my workplace, and I had a job to do.
And to hell with Santino Buccini if he thought I’d hide away in my office trembling with fear, hunger, and thirst.
“I have to take these files to registration.”
“Signorina, that is right next to the ER. Can you find someone else to do it for you?”