Page 73 of Conall's Reign

Once we had all agreed and devised our next plan, I returned to the bedroom and curled up next to my wife. Her dark hair fanned out against the pillow, and her hands were crossed protectively over her chest. A faint bruise already marked her cheek, and there were marks on her wrists from the zip ties. Pulling her close, I breathed her in, burying my nose in her hair and thanking all the stars and guardian angels that she was safe in our bed.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

francesca

It had beenweeks since the kidnapping, and during that time, Conall’s protectiveness had become suffocating. I understood and even appreciated it, but today was the first time I was allowed to take a shift at the hospital again. My nerves were buzzing with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Vanello had scaled back his attacks, but Conall wasn’t entirely sure of his intentions. Angelo and Remo were just as cautious, which I understood.

I had fought hard for this moment. Being a nurse wasn’t just a job to me—it was a calling, a core part of my identity that I refused to let go of, no matter how much my life had changed.

Finn, Sean, and Owen were already waiting by the car. I was surprised that Sean was up and about already, but he assured me that he was fine. My protective detail had more than doubled, and I could feel the weight of their presence even before I reached them. Finn gave me a curt nod before opening the car door, and I slid inside with a sigh.

“Excited?” Sean asked, his tone lighter than usual. He understood what this meant to me.

“Beyond,” I confessed. “It’s been far too long.”

Finn grunted. “Conall asked me to remind you not to overdo it and that we’ll be watching at all times.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you will.”

If I knew my husband, he would have his eyes glued to my tracker the entire time I was away.

They were truly ridiculous. Moreover, tapping into hallway security as they had done was illegal. I hoped they hadn’t gone as far as tapping into the cameras in the rooms, but I was hesitant to ask. I wanted to keep my job, but I needed to morally consider whether I was comfortable with what I was doing to maintain it, and I wasn’t sure I was.

The drive to the hospital felt longer than usual, and anticipation made every red light into an irritation. When we finally arrived, I adjusted my scrubs and took a deep breath to steady myself. As I walked through the entrance, the familiar scent of antiseptic and coffee anchored me.

At the nurses' station, I was promptly greeted by Sandra, one of my fellow nurses, a no-nonsense woman in her late fifties with a motherly streak hidden beneath layers of sarcasm.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” she teased, crossing her arms. “I thought you’d left us for good.”

“Not a chance,” I said with a smile. “Miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” she retorted, then softened. “It’s good to have you back, kid. I’ve got a light load today—easing you in. Bed six needs antibiotics, bed nine is post-op and waiting for a wound check, and bed eleven… hip surgery.”

The next few hours passed quickly. I checked on my post-operative patient, a young woman who had undergone a morning shoulder surgery and was anxious about being discharged. I reassured her, examined her incisions, and noted that I would follow up as soon as she saw the doctor. A patient in bed six required a new IV line after theirs had infiltrated, and I carefully inserted a fresh one while explaining the procedure to help ease their discomfort. The steady hum of heart monitors, the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum, and the occasional overhead page for doctors filled the air, creating a symphony of controlled chaos that I had greatly missed.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a message from Conall checking in, but instead, an unknown number flashed on the screen.

Unknown: I know you have a break in thirty minutes. Meet me in the cafeteria for coffee.

I frowned. If this was a threat, it was oddly casual. Was this Vanello?

Biting my lip, I contemplated. Conall had been updating me about what was happening with Vanello — the gradual withdrawal. I didn’t want to escalate anything by not showing up if it was him. I sent a quick message to Finn and Sean, keeping it brief and explaining my intention to head to the cafeteria. If I could speak to him, I wanted to seize the opportunity. I felt an irrational need for answers. I didn’t like being in the dark about his motives.

Almost immediately, Finn responded.

Finn: If we see anything we don’t like, we will pull you out.

I smirked at his predictability before sending another text to Conall.

Me: I think Vanello wants to meet for coffee.

The three dots appeared, then stopped, and then reappeared. Finally, his reply came.

Husband: No.

I sighed.

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