Page 46 of Fierce Protector

“Long story but I’m about to head home. Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Really, because that would be super helpful. You know, being informed of a change relating to the person you’re supposed to be watching. If you’re going to ban us from the surgical floor then we need to be kept informed, Doc.” There’s a lightness to his voice, so I know he’s teasing me, but he’s not wrong.

“Fine, I’ve been put on administrative leave for thenext few days so watching me just got a whole lot easier. I’ll be sitting on the couch with a good book for the foreseeable future,” I say with equal flippancy.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice now gruff and hard, like he’s about to march into the hospital and go to bat for me.

“Down boy. There was a patient error, not my fault but it needs to be investigated. That’s not why I’m calling you.” There’s a begrudging grunt on the other end of the line and I smile a little at the idea that Marcus would be upset on my behalf. “Danny Costello?” I prompt.

“What about him?”

“He’s MIA.” I reply.

“I’m gonna need more than that Doc.”

“He hasn’t turned up for his shift. Please tell mewehaven’t done anything to him?”

“Of course we haven’t. We dropped surveillance on him weeks ago.” There’s a pause before he continues. “But it is odd. I followed the guy for weeks and if there’s one thing I know about him is that his routine is everything. Like obsessively so. Skipping out on work doesn’t sound like him.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“I don’t have anyone free right now,” he’s quick to reply. Trying to shut down the suggestion he knows is coming.

“I’m literally on my way home. Can’t you go and check it out?”

“No. Stefano would gut me.”

“He’d also gut you if you didn’t look into this.” Mycounter is weak at best. True, but still weak. “What if I agreed to stay here at the hospital until you got back?”

“The answer is no, Doc,” he snaps, but he quickly offers me a compromise. “Once you’re home safe, then I’ll check it out.”

“Deal.”

A sense of relief washes over me and I end the call so I can gather my stuff to leave. As I make my way through the hospital, it’s obvious word has spread about the mix-up. I’m greeted with half a dozen platitudes, telling me I’ll be back in no time, and how the suspension is just a formality, but it strikes me that I’m not sure I care.

I’m entirely unbothered. Which I know I probably should be. Shouldn’t the Chief of General Surgery be at the very least a little angry at being suspended? Even if it is only temporary.

But I’m not. I’d even go so far as to say I’m glad to be leaving. If the last few months have taught me anything, it’s that it’s not what I do that brings me joy, it’s helping the people I love. And after everything the Bianchi organisation has been through, we’re all owed a break. I’m looking forward to curling up on the sofa with a glass of wine and formulating a plan to jump Stefano the minute he steps through the door.

I wait patiently for the elevator to the parking garage and when the doors finally open there’s just enough room to squeeze in at the front.

Pulling out my necklace from under my collar, I unhook my new ring and place it on my finger. I hold out my hand and inspect it, like a magpie distracted by shiny things, and smile as the fluorescent lights reflect off thefacets. I’m too caught up in its beauty to pay attention as the people get off the elevator on each floor.

The first time I realise there’s something wrong is a shuffle and scrape of shoes behind me. It’s sudden and startles me. I’ve barely had time to turn my head when there’s a sharp prick in my neck. It pinches for a second before a warm sensation spreads over me. I feel like a TV screen about to go into standby, only I can’t find the remote to press a button and stop it from happening. I don’t want to shut down. But as my eyelids grow heavy, I can’t seem to fight it.

As I fall back into someone’s arms, I struggle to make sense of what I’m seeing. My head lolls to the side and my vision is obscured by a swath of green fabric. I try to lift my head and the last thing I see before darkness takes me is a pleated surgical mask and a pair of familiar dark eyes, brimming with a terrifying and malevolent joy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

STEFANO

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know where she is?” I roar down the line at him. My heart is pounding against my rib cage with such force I swear I can hear the beat.

“I have no excuse, consigliere. We can’t find her and her cell phone has been switched off.”Marcus’s words are strained, but I don’t have the capacity to cut him any slack right now. I clench my jaw hard enough for him to hear my teeth grinding over the phone.

“How the fuck did this happen?” I say, barely recognising the sound of my own voice, fury permeating every word.

“We were waiting in the parking garage for her to shower and change after she finished her shift”—there’s a brief pause and I swear I can hear him audibly swallow—“only she never came down to her car.”

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