Page 28 of Wrestling With Love

She wanted to fight. He could see it in her eyes.

But the moment his hand covered hers, her body sagged just a little.

And for the first time since he saw that damn video, he could finally breathe again.

He turned to the nearest nurse. “Why the hell wasn’t she treated when she got here?”

The woman stiffened. “Sir, she refused trea—”

Luca’s palm slammed down on the counter, rattling the cheap plastic sign that read Please remain calm.

“She was bleeding,” he growled. “And you let her sit in a damn hallway?”

The nurse scrambled for words, but it didn’t matter. Someone was going to answer for this.

Doctors hurried now, voices overlapping, orders being shouted, but Luca didn’t take his eyes off the hallway they’d disappeared down.

She’d refused treatment. No money. No insurance. Too damn stubborn for her own good.

A weak voice cut through the chaos.

“Stop scaring people, Ferrara.”

Luca turned.

Diamond was half-conscious, eyes barely open, but still managing to glare at him from the stretcher that was now rolling to the other side of the corridor.

His jaw tightened. “If they did their jobs, I wouldn’t have to.”

She rolled her eyes before they fluttered shut again.

Stubborn woman.

***

Luca didn’t leave.

Not when the nurses finished stitching her up. Not when the doctor assured him she’d be fine. Not even when they moved her to a private room.

He pulled up a chair, sat, and watched her breathe.

His jacket was tossed over the back of the seat, his sleeves rolled up, the sterile glow of hospital lights doing nothing to soften the tightness in his chest.

She was too pale. Too still.

He hated it.

At some point, she stirred, eyes cracking open.

She blinked, focusing, then frowned. “Why are you still here? Go home.”

Luca’s mouth twitched. “Not happening.”

She exhaled, like she wanted to argue but didn’t have the strength.

Good. He thought.

Luca sat in the chair beside Diamond’s bed, his head tilted back, eyes closed. He hadn’t slept, but exhaustion didn’t matter—not when she was lying there, pale against the sterile white sheets. The soft beeping of the machines was the only sound in the room until the door creaked open.

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