Page 4 of Devilish Prince

“Try a deep breath,” she coaches, leaving the towel by my dripping mouth and straightening. “In slow through your nose… Now out slow through your mouth… Good, again…”

Sofia continues her gentle coaxing until the fit passes and I lie here weak and drained. It hurts to breathe again, something I feel I might suffer for days to come, but again I remind myself I am alive, and that is what matters.

“You have to stay calm.” Her tone is soft again, caring almost. She’s more than a skilled and talented surgeon. She is a healer, a woman whose mere presence exudes compassion and empathy. “If you get worked up you can bust the stitches loose and cause internal bleeding.”

“Can you stop the coughing?” I ask, fighting the urge to have another fit.

“Not with these medications.”

“Can you get them?” My life is on the line still; that much is clear.

Sofia backs up a step and hangs her stethoscope around her neck again. Her pursed lips and drawn eyes reveal a distaste for the position I’ve put her in but I play to her sympathies. I can force her to stay and do whatever job I please. I know that. I’ve done it for many of my subordinates in the past. But I want her to come willingly; no one wants to force people to care for them. Besides, I know that look in her eyes. She wants to see this through, and that works in my favor. I want to see her again, when I’m feeling well enough to engage with her.

“I can provide protection…”

My comment jostles her and she scowls. “I don’t need your help or your protection, Mr. Gatti. The last thing I want is people thinking I work for you.”

“The city is dangerous.” My own voice sounds foreign to me, likely from irritation in my throat after so much coughing. But it sounds ominous, as if I’m prophesying her dark future into existence, because whether she knows it or not, she needs my protection now.

“I’m well aware of the dangers of the city. Thank you.” She rubs the back of her neck. “I can’t work this way. You need to be somewhere clean. You need a round-the-clock nurse. You need to purchase your supplies and medications which I prescribe to you and you cannot and will not perform any illegal actions while under my care. Is that clear?”

I’ve got her right where I want her. She’s hooked. She can’t walk away so long as I need her. She’s one of those fixer-types. The ones who see someone broken and have a compulsion to heal or fix them somehow and she can’t turn her back until I’m whole. Only, she will do it her way only. For now, I can live with that.

“Got it, Doc.” I wink at her and smile and her shoulders relax.

“Good, then I will come twice a day. You will hire a nurse the right way. No kidnapping, no throwing someone in a van and forcing them. Got it?” She’s testing me, trying my patience and it’s not something I allow. But for now, she can have the lead. In due time she will learn who I am.

“I give you my word, I will not coerce anyone or steal anything. My actions and those of my men will remain above the table and legal.” I try to raise my hand but my shoulder protests and I feel a tickle in my chest. So I only blink and nod once.

“I’ll leave my orders with your men as they bring me to the hospital. They are to be obeyed strictly.”

I wonder if she’s getting off on this? Bossing a man like me around… Is it a power trip? “Of course, Dr. Carter. Anything you say…” I’m learning now, everything I need to know. How to think about her, communicate with her, and even how to get her to do whatever I want, and fuck do I want her to do things. I may be critically injured but my cock doesn’t think so. And the instant I feel well enough, she’ll know it. “Anything else?”

Her eyebrows rise. She’s surprised by my consent and acquiescence. “I think that’s all.”

“And you’ll still refuse my protection?” Willingly walking into my fold is what’s best for her, but she doesn’t know that yet. I’m waiting, knowing that if she refuses it means a little more work on my end—well, my guys’ end anyway.

“Thank you, Lorenzo, but no. I can protect myself. I’ll come back later today.” She moves toward the corner of the makeshift room and squeezes through the plastic sheets and I hear her footsteps as she walks away.

I guess I have to make her understand exactly how much she really does need my protection.

3

SOFIA

I’m exhausted. I’ve been pulling double shifts at work all week on top of three visits a day to Lorenzo’s ostentatious house. The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word modest and it shows. I sit on the subway, too cold to even get my car started, and listen to the chatter of busybodies gossiping about a mutual acquaintance they know. I could care less. My feet hurt; my lower back feels like I’ve carried a million pounds, and I still have to care for Calvin this evening.

When Lorenzo paid me—in cash, no surprise there—I was shocked. I feel a bit unnerved with five thousand dollars in small bills nestled in a nondescript envelope in my purse. I make a very decent salary, but my tuition repayment and the cost of living here in the city makes me feel like I’m impoverished. This money will go a long way toward helping me. Calvin needs more than I can give him and there is an experimental procedure trial this summer I want to get him into.

Still, no amount of hopefulness for the future erases the fear that someone will learn what is in my bag and swipe it from me, along with my banking information, ID, and other personaleffects. I’m not sure what I expected from him. A wire transfer would only lead authorities directly to my doorstep if Lorenzo goes down for something.

I’m relieved when the train stops at my station and I slip out, clutching my purse to my side. I weave through the busy masses and climb the stairs, watching over my shoulder the whole five block walk to my apartment. It’s in a high-rise west of Macy’s, and I could probably just walk to work, but somehow the subway feels safer. There are more witnesses on a train than on a side street, and with the sun still setting by five-thirty p.m. most days, I don’t take many risks.

By the time I get to my apartment I’m shivering so badly I can’t feel my fingers. The building manager hasn’t fixed the heat in the lobby either, so I get no relief until I’m safely inside my apartment where Tina, the in-home nurse, is ready to leave. She stands as I shut the door behind me and smiles softly.

“He’s ready for his bath.” Her typical non-greeting is okay. We’re not friends, just customer and service provider, and that’s okay. I need the help and the insurance company sends me whoever is on their payroll to help. Tina has been around for a few weeks though, and Calvin seems to like her.

“How is he emotionally today?” I hang my purse on the coat rack and start peeling off my layers. My brother has been in a slump lately, feeling like he’s a burden. He can speak and hear just fine, but the accident left him paralyzed from the neck down. I can see how he’d feel like a burden, and very lonely too. Quadriplegics often have no friends, and I’m his only family in the city.

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