Page 53 of Fierce Protector

“We took his laptop for Sin to analyse. Thought you’d want to check that he didn’t have any surveillance or digital files on Katerina,” Nico adds matter-of-factly.

“Good thinking,” I say before clearing my throat and adding, “Listen, I need to thank you for having my…ourbacks today.”

They both shake their heads in tandem.

“Nothing to thank us for, Consigliere,” Nico replies gruffly but with affection. “You’re family. She’s family. You never have to say thank you.”

“I know. But I’m thanking you anyway because that woman in there means more to me than anyone else in the world, and I will always thank the men who stand by my side to protect her.” They both bow their heads. “Now, fuck off home. Nico, please update the don and tell her I’ll check in with her first thing, and Marcus, set up a rotating security detail on the floor and then you can piss off too.”

I reach out, shaking Nico's and then Marcus’ hand, sending them on their way for the evening before heading straight back to Katerina’s room and taking up my sentry on the chair beside her bed. Content to watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest until she wakes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

KATERINA

Everything is a hell of a lot louder the next time I wake up. My father and Stefano are standing toe to toe at the foot of my bed, my father’s face red with rage.

“If you’d spent more time investigating the people in her life and not trying to scare off the wrong person, this never would have happened.” I wince as my father shouts at Stefano. “I’ll never forgive you for not protecting her from this. I should kill you myself.”

“I should let you, but I won’t leave her. Not even for you,” Stefano replies, his tone sombre but defiant.

My father grabs Stefano’s collar, pulling him closer, looking like he’s about to shove him clear across the room. Stefano keeps his hands at his side, doing nothing to retaliate, letting my father take his frustration out on him. Stefano may be cutting his best friend some slack, but I sure as fuck am not going to let it slide.

“Cut it the fuck out, right now,” I instruct as I drag myself into consciousness. Nothing hits you quite as hard as recovering from emergency surgery with fuck knows what holding your ribcage together and nowhere near enough morphine. It sucks balls. I pat the bed by my thigh, searching for the call buttons I know the nurses always leave for patients. I’m going to need someone to up my medication if I’m going to make it through this conversation.

“Katerina!” my father exclaims, pushing Stefano away and racing to my side. He goes to hug me, only for both me and Stefano to shout, “No,” at the same time.

“The incision,” I say, glancing towards my chest and feeling guilty for denying my dad the hug he so obviously needs. “I’m sorry, Dad.” His shoulders droop and an expression I’ve never seen overtakes him. It’s a blend of concern and disappointment that has me promising myself that I’ll hug my father for as long as he needs the minute I’m able.

As Stefano moves to stand opposite him on the other side of the bed, my father’s ire returns. “She could have died,” he bites out at Stefano through gritted teeth.

“I told you to cut it out. I love you, Dad, but the man saved my fucking life,” I chastise, but he doesn’t listen.

“He only had to save it, because he couldn’t protect you in the first place,” my father spits back as he glares at his best friend.

Their bickering fades into the background as I’m hit with a wave of light-headedness. I try to take a steadying breath, but it does nothing to make me feel better.

I’m not a fan of sternotomies. Zero out of ten, do notrecommend. Whatever pain meds they gave me earlier are wearing off, and I’m rapidly tiring of the sharp pain in my ribs every time I inhale.

I tap the call button again and it takes no more than thirty seconds for my nurse to come in through the door, and there’s an odd relief when I see it’s Danny. I regret ever thinking all those notes, messages, and calls came from him. But I take comfort knowing I was right about him not being capable of stalking.

“Don’t make me kick you both out. My patient needs rest and support, not to have to referee whatever bullshit’s going on here,” Danny snaps at them. He straightens his spine, like he’s trying not to balk against their withering glares.

A full rich laugh bursts out of my mouth, followed by a sharp hiss as my body protests at my sudden outburst. Danny may be my new favourite person. Only he would put a patient’s needs above their own self-preservation and chastise two of the highest-ranking members of the Cosa Nostra… and he’s not wrong. They can both wind their necks in. At least until someone’s upped my pain meds.

When they both make a move to confront Danny, I raise a hand, halting them in their tracks. “I swear if you harm a hair on that man’s head I will call the d—” I catch myself, before continuing, “Aurora on you both. He’s the best nurse in the hospital.” I drop my hand, exhaustion taking over.

“Damn straight, Doctor Mancini. I’m going to check your vitals and ask about your post-op pain,” he says with a reassuring smile before turning a judgementalbrow towards my visitors. “Not act as a referee between two men who are old enough to know better than to cause my patient any further stress.”

“Please, we agreed. You’re supposed to call me Katerina,” I say, wincing as I try to prop myself up.

“Uh-uh. You know better than that. Sit back and use the damn buttons,” he admonishes, placing the remote for the bed into my hand. I smile at his bedside manner and how it’s put me instantly at ease, but also how he’s taken the wind out of both my father and Stefano’s sails and they’ve stopped focussing on shit that really doesn’t fucking matter. “Is she okay?” my father asks, worry seeping out of every word.

“Sheis perfectly capable of answering that question herself, Dad.” I don’t mean to snap, but I’m right here, and I’m the one with the medical degree.

“Butheis your father, and he’s been pacing the halls, waiting for you to get out of recovery for the best part of the day,” Danny says, throwing the same chastising brow lift my way this time. After checking on my pain levels, he tinkers with the morphine drip release rate, upping the dose, before turning to all of us and pointing an accusatory finger my way. “I’ll be at the nurse’s station. If you need anything, you push the button, Katerina. If I catch you trying to do anything for yourself, I’ll make sure you get the worst flavours of Jello come dinner time,” he declares before he leaves.

I’d forgotten how much of a no-nonsense nurse Danny was with stubborn patients, but smile, realising his brand of care is exactly what I need right now.

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