Page 40 of Fierce Protector

See you soon, baby girl

I may love it when he calls me kitten, but holy fuck does it turn me on when he calls me baby girl. I shouldprobably be concerned about that, but it’s not like I have daddy issues—I mean, he has issues with my daddy, but I have no overwhelming desire to be infantilised. The problem is when those words pass his lips, his tone drops into some kind of sinful growl that has my pulse racing and my temperature rising. And apparently, it has the same effect when he sends it over text.

I shake off my growing arousal and stuff my phone back in my pocket. I don’t have the time to allow myself to be distracted right now. but you can be damn sure I’m going to let him distract the fuck out of me later when I get home. Preferably naked and bent over the back of his couch.

By the timeI arrive home, I’m exhausted. And more than a little irritated. There was entirely too much peopling required today. Putting aside the fact that everyone I’ve ever interacted with went out of their way to congratulate me on my fictitious engagement, but I also had a consult with Doctor Jenkins, who was on particularly obnoxious form today. He made everyone’s jobs ten times more difficult and in the end, we lost the patient and were subjected to a tirade of abuse from him afterwards.

It was so bad that I made an appointment with the Chief of Surgery to lodge a formal complaint on behalf of the team. The entire OR worked diligently and did everything they could, and I couldn’t give a fuck how fucking talented the man is, I will not be spoken to like that inmy OR and definitely won’t have my team berated like that.

I spent most of the drive home wondering if I should call up Nico Verardi and have the Bianchi’s most brutal enforcer have a little chat with the good doctor. Admittedly, that would be an abuse of my connections, but someone needs to teach that cunt a lesson. Something tells me a rap on the knuckles from the Chief is unlikely to achieve anything.

I love my job. I love the thrill of saving a life. But honest to God, if I could do it without having to deal with men like Dylan Jenkins, it would be paradise.

The incident has left me with a sense of unease itching under the surface of my skin. It wasn’t just his complete lack of respect, but every word was laced with venom. I don’t know what the fuck crawled up his ass and died, but no one speaks to a Mancini like that and gets away with it.

As I pull into the driveway, the guards nod and the gate closes behind me. I don’t miss the car that drives on past the turning. Two men in the front. My tail for the afternoon shift. It should make me uneasy to know that I’m being watched whenever I leave the house, but it feels oddly soothing. There’s been a low-grade buzzing of discontent running through me since I left this morning and only now is it starting to leech out of my bones.

That feeling is short-lived, however.

The minute I open the door, my father’s voice hollers out from the kitchen.

“She’s fourteen years your junior. You watched hergrow up!” I flinch at my father’s words, disappointed that he can think so poorly of a man he claimed to love like a brother.

“Don’t try and turn this into something it’s not. I never once thought about her like that back then.”

“So why the fuck are you thinking about her like that now?”

I close the front door as quietly as I can, keen to keep their conversation from the men outside. I stop dead in the hallway, having no idea if this is a fight I want to insert myself into. They’re going to have to hash it out sooner or later. It might as well be now.

“Because she’s the most impressive woman I’ve ever known. I didn’t fall in love with some fantasy of youthful perfection. I fell in love with a strong and talented woman, a doctor who’s the top of her fucking field. Someone who understands the world we live in and does everything she can to support the family you and I would sacrifice our lives for.”

“She’s a child,” my father shouts. I flinch at his words, knowing he doesn’t really mean them, but hating that no matter what I do, there’s a part of him that will always see me that way. “She’smychild,” he stutters, correcting himself.

“She’s thirty-four, for fuck’s sake.”

“And you’re forty-eight. What do you think you can offer her? You’ll have one foot in the grave before she’s even had a chance to build a life with you.”

“I’ll give her whatever life she wants with me. For however long she wants it.” Stefano’s words wraparound me like a warm blanket. They’re everything I didn’t know I needed to hear.

Let my father rant and rave. I know eventually he’ll come around; this is just part of his process. The man may be stubborn, but he loves me. The silence is almost painful, only interrupted by the subtle clinks of ice against a glass.

“You can come in now, Katerina,” Stefano says, announcing me to my father.

Busted.

As I round the corner my father casts his eyes downwards, a flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

I cross the room and bring him in for a hug. “Honestly, I’d rather know what’s being said about me than be kept in the dark.”

He starts to object but I shush him. “Dad, I’m going to need you to listen to me now. You’re talking about this like I’ve made some rash and reckless decision. Falling for Stefano is one of the most rational things I’ve ever done. It doesn’t need to make sense to you. It makes sense to me. I have no clue what the future holds for us, but Dad, quite frankly that’s none of your business. He’s a grown-ass man, and I’m a grown-ass woman. The only person acting like a child here is you.”

I don’t miss the tick of his jaw as he grinds his teeth together. I don’t know if it’s because he’s mad at me or himself, but I’m relieved when my words appear to get through to him. His face softens, and he dips down to kiss my temple.

“I thought I was ready to discuss this but obviously I’m not, Katerina.”

“You can take all the time you need, Dad. But you can’t walk in here and insult the consigliere in his own damn house.” I’m careful with my tone, trying not to push my luck but setting a clear boundary. “I love you,” I add, pulling him into a hug.

“Love you too,” he replies with an even tighter squeeze.

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