Page 6 of Corrupted Heir (Mafia Kings: Corrupted 1)

“Dominic, I need to be able to concentrate, and I can’t do that with you hovering over my shoulder.”

He took one step back, but that seemed to be the end of his concession.

“Get to work, Miss Moore,” he said in a no-nonsense tone that put my own to shame.

Who was he to boss me around in my own freaking clinic?

It was only then I noticed the fresh blood that plastered his shirt to his side, just above his hip. It was too much, and too fresh to belong to Bullet.

“You’ve been shot,” I blurted out.

“Yes, Miss Moore. I did notice that,” he said with an upward quirk of his lips.

I shook my head and turned back around to get to work. Animals were my patients, not humans. I needed to get the bullet out of Bullet fast if I were to stop the bleeding before he lost too much blood. I injected him with an anesthetic near the wound, doing my damnedest to ignore the man hovering one step behind me. Male model or not, he seemed to have the personality of a rattlesnake.

I inserted the tweezers into the wound, hoping the bullet was intact and hadn’t shattered upon impact. I felt the tips of the tweezer hit metal about two inches deep. I maneuvered them to get a grip on the bullet, but my hand shook, just the slightest tremble, but it was enough to foil my attempt. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I withdrew the tweezers, grabbed a handful of sterile cloths, and tossed them to the man behind me.

“Leave, Dominic. Go sit down and press these against your wound. I need you out of here so I can save this dog’s life,” I said, mimicking his chilling tone as best as I could and glaring at him for good measure.

He stared at me for one long moment, then nodded, turning on his heels and striding out of the room. I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and turned my attention back to Bullet.

“Almost done here, little guy. You’re going to be good as new soon,” I crooned.

Without the man’s unnerving gaze on me, my hands were steady, and it only took me a moment to insert the tweezers, grab onto the bullet, and remove it in one smooth movement.

“Now we’re getting somewhere, aren’t we, Bullet?” I said, smiling into the dog’s eyes. I always wondered what they were thinking while I worked. Could Bullet tell instinctively that I was trying to help him? I hoped so.

I dropped the bullet in a small metal bowl. After sterilizing the wound, I pulled out a small machine. It allowed me to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding quickly and help prevent infections. Because of the anesthetic, Bullet didn’t even whimper when I applied it to his flesh. I breathed through my mouth as I worked. The smell of burning flesh was—to say the least—absolutely dreadful.

***

After applying a bandage and finding Bullet a free kennel, I laid him in a comfortable bed. He looked up at me before I closed the door.

“You’re going to be okay, little guy,” I cooed softly. “Fallon’s going to take care of you. You look like a strong little man. You’ll feel better than ever in no time.”

Despite his pain, his eyes were so expressive. Bullet seemed to frown, and I stroked his head, giving him a moment to relax beneath my fingers before I closed the kennel door. I turned off the light and made my way to the reception area where Dominic stood, rather than sat, but at least he was pressing the cloths I’d given him to his wound. He stared at me with eyes so gray they were like storm clouds right before they let loose their fury.

“What happened to that dog?” I barked with my arms crossed over my chest. It seemed unlikely he’d shot Bullet himself and then brought him in for surgery, but it was also difficult to believe this man had played no role in whatever had happened. So, it didn’t matter that he towered over me or that his shoulders were twice as broad as mine or that he could probably squish me like a bug. At least, I stiffened my spine and pretended none of that mattered.

“He was shot. I thought we’d established that, Miss Moore.”

I huffed. “A dog doesn’t just magically appear with a bullet lodged in his side.”

“It would be best if you just accepted that he did,” he said as lightning bolts seemed to shoot through the storm clouds in his eyes. “Now, tell me, is Bullet going to be all right?” He lifted his chin to look behind me, so I stood on my toes to block his view.

“The bullet didn’t hit any bone or organs, thank God, and I was able to remove it in one piece. He’s resting comfortably now. I think it’s safe to say he’s going to be okay.” I didn’t like to give that kind of assurance so early on, but Bullet had come through the surgery well. I was confident he would recover.

He nodded. “I’d like to take him home then.”

“You still haven’t explained how he was shot,” I said, fisting my hands on my hips.

He grinned like I was somehow amusing. If I hadn’t been angry as hell, I would have been weak in the knees.

“A stray bullet hit him while I was taking him for a walk,” he said—a lie if ever I’d heard one.

“One stray bullet?” I cocked an eyebrow. Only an idiot would buy his bullshit story. “And that would mean you dove to protect him, the bullet went right through you, and managed to get lodged in that poor dog?”

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