Page 16 of Sweet Temptation

"Oh, Hanna…" Another voice comes into ear shot as the small brunette sprints to the bedside table next to me. "What the fuck happened?" she demands. But I don't give her the answers; instead, I ignore her because having an enemy in the same room as me is bad enough.

I can't even function sitting in a room with this woman. I should be slitting her throat or her mine.

Scarlet Rose is a mafia princess from a rival family I can't stand. I'm putting myself through hell being near her for Hanna. If it wasn’t for Hanna, I wouldn't stand near the woman. I can't stand her and killing her is definitely on my to-do list in the mafia world.

I look away and stare at the floor, chewing my lip. "She called me. She said she needed me, and when I got there…" I close my mouth and watch Hanna again. If she wants to know the rest, it won’t be coming from my mouth.

Scarlet sighs and sits in the chair next to me. A growl rises in my throat at the nearness of this bitch, but I say nothing because she's friends with the girl lying lifeless before me. "Bailey, can we have a minute?" Scarlet asks her friend with a pointed stare.

The blonde disappears from the room, leaving me alone with my enemy in a hospital room, of all places. "Put your hackles down, Saint. In the real world. I would have tried to gut you and your brothers already, but I haven't. Ever asked yourself why?"

A smirk filters over my mouth as I turn to her. "You want to shag one of us?" I snicker.

Scarlet scoffs, as if touching us pains her, and the feeling is mutual. "I don't harm you because Hanna hasn't exactly made it clear what she wants from you, and if I take you out, I might lose a friend," she replies with thinned lips.

"At least you're a dedicated bitch, right?" I reply with a genuine grin.

Her brown eyes flick to me, narrowing into slits. "Yep! And I do it for her, not for you and not for me. I do it for Hanna, even though I can't stand you."

A grin filters over my lips. "Feeling is mutual, princessa," I mock as Scarlet rises to her combat boots and leaves me alone with Hanna once again. What kind of mafia princess dresses like a goth? Only her.

Gently, I rest my head next to her arm on the hospital bed and close my eyes, and before I know it, I'm asleep next to her.

"Damon…" A soft whisper brings me out of my slumber. Looking up, I'm met with Hanna's beautiful broken green eyes. Eyes I have prayed would look at me again. Even though I prayed to the devil, he delivered in the end.

She watches me closely before she pulls her hand away from me. "Hanna…" I mutter. She shakes her head before her eyes focus on the wall in front of her. As if I didn’t just save her damn life. Like I didn’t risk my entire family's wrath by going to her aid.

"I don't want you here," she half growls. She's lying, but I don't say anything about it. Her lie is going to cost her, though.

My eyes meet hers as she watches me. "I didn't need you. It was a weak moment. I need you to stay away from me," she demands, averting her eyes. Weak moment. Yeah, one hundred percent, because weakness is what ruins us.

"Oh thank goodness!" an old woman cries as she rushes to Hanna's bed. Slowly, I stand, taking one last look at Hanna.

"Gramz." She smiles at the old woman, who kisses her forehead. "Damon, I don't want you here," she says again as her eyes find me. I don't want to be here, either.

Turning my head away from her, I head in the opposite direction, leaving her hospital room and coming face to face with the twenty-something-year-old from yesterday. "She doesn't need you. She only needs her family, and that's what I am," he seethes, walking past me into the hospital room.

I definitely should have killed him. It's what he deserves in the end.

I close my eyes briefly before I continue walking toward the waiting area, rage building in my chest with every step. "Damon.'' Damien stands and rushes to me.

"Don't," I growl at him, walking toward the exit to the hospital. I don't need to hear it from him after everything I put myself through. I don't need to be reminded that this is why we don't have weaknesses.

Marching to the front doors, I'm stopped by a voice. "Excuse me, young man?" I hear the doctor's voice again and then face her. The one I threatened, nonetheless.

She eyes my black and blue hand, then meets my eyes. "I would like to check out that hand."

Groaning, I follow her into a different hospital room and settle myself on the bed. At least if I let her look at my hand, she'll leave me the fuck alone.

The brunette doctor examines my damaged hand as I wince at her every touch. "It's broken," she replies.

"No fucking shit," I snap. I could have been nicer, but nice isn't who I am, and I'm done being fucking nice.

The doctor eyes me cautiously before she leaves, returning with a cast wrap. I glare down at the wrap, then eye her. Gently, she applies the material to my hand until it's covered in a black cast. "You're free to go," she mutters. Getting to my feet, I retreat, heading for the exit I was going for in the first place.

Damien follows me, and I notice he's the only one still here. "Coming back tomorrow?" he asks. The dig is clear, but I ignore it.

I shake my head and head for my blue Camaro. "Hanna doesn't need or want me," I reply, climbing into the driver's seat and starting up the car. Damien sighs and slides into the passenger seat, clicking his seatbelt.

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