Chapter 45: The Assignment
The hospital smelled faintly of antiseptic and rain, the kind that seeped in through the sliding doors whenever someone rushed in from outside. My coat was still damp from the snow, and every step I took echoed softly on the polished floor.
Raymond walked beside me, silent, his gloved hands shoved deep into his pockets. We’d barely spoken since the café. The air between us was tight, too full of words neither of us wanted to say.
When we stepped back into the hospital lobby, the world shifted again. The hum of machines, the squeak of rubber soles, the muffled calls over the intercom, all of it swallowed the brief peace of our break.
Before I could even hang my coat, a senior doctor waved me over.
“Monroe! I need your assistance, now.”
“Yes, sir,” I said quickly, glancing at Raymond.
He caught my wrist before I could move. His touch was firm, urgent.
“What if he’s still here?” he said quietly, eyes darting toward the corridors.
For a second, my chest tightened.
Lorenzo.
“I can handle it,” I said, trying to sound steady.
“I’ll be in my office,” Raymond murmured, still not letting go. “Call me if he’s…”
“Come quickly!” the doctor barked from down the hall.
Raymond’s grip loosened reluctantly, fingers brushing mine before falling away. I didn’t look back.
\---
I followed the senior doctor into one of the patient wards. The room smelled of medicine and damp linen. An old man lay on the bed, hooked up to an oxygen mask, his chest rising and falling weakly.
I exhaled in relief.
Thank God. Not him.
“Take his X-ray results to Doctor Rossi,” the doctor said, pointing at the envelope on the counter.
“Doctor Rossi?” I asked, already picking it up.
“Yes. He’s in the west wing, office 203.”
I nodded, grateful for the simple task. Anything that kept my hands busy and my mind away from Lorenzo.
The hallways were quiet, a low hum of fluorescent lights following me as I walked. The X-ray folder was warm in my palm, my heartbeat was louder than the sound of my shoes.
“Rossi,” I muttered, scanning the doors. “Rossi…”
When I finally found the nameplate, Dr. M. Rossi, I hesitated.
Rossi…
The name tugged at something familiar.
I knocked once.
“Come in,” a deep voice replied.
I pushed the door open, eyes down, and stepped in quickly.
“Sir, I was told to bring…”
I stopped.
My voice caught in my throat as I looked up.
Matteo.
The same man who had treated me when Lorenzo took me to his mansion. The same calm, unreadable face, dark eyes, surgical gloves resting beside a neat stack of medical reports.
Sitting across from him was Lorenzo De Luca himself.
He was dressed in a black turtleneck and a long gray coat, the fabric stretched across his shoulders. A fresh bandage peeked from beneath his sleeve, and another circled his neck, a faint reminder of the gunshot wound he had mentioned.
He looked alive. Strong. Dangerous.
And he was staring right at me.
“Miss Isla,” Matteo said, standing slightly. “Come closer.”
My heart stuttered.
“You… you’re Rossi?”
Matteo smiled faintly. “Oh yes. My full name is Matteo Rossi.”
The room tilted.
I turned my gaze to Lorenzo.
He smiled, a small, deliberate smile that didn’t reach his eyes, then rose from his chair.
“Nice seeing you, Isla,” he said quietly.
His voice still carried that low, velvet roughness that made my chest tighten against my will.
Before I could respond, he walked out, leaving the faint scent of his cologne in the air, cedar and smoke, hauntingly familiar.
I stood frozen until the door clicked shut behind him.
\---
I turned sharply to Matteo and handed him the X-ray. “Here. I’ll be going now.”
“Sit,” he said, his tone even but firm.
Reluctantly, I sat across from him. The chair felt colder than it should.
“We have an assignment for you, Miss Isla,” Matteo began, folding his hands on the desk.
My pulse quickened. “An assignment?”
“Yes. A patient under our care is in bad condition and needs a nurse to assist with daily medical supervision.”
I nodded stiffly. “Alright. What room number?”
Matteo’s lips curved slightly. “It won’t be here in the hospital.”
I blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“You’ll be staying with the patient for at least three weeks,” he said, watching my reaction carefully.
My stomach dropped.
Three weeks.
Outside the hospital.
With a patient.
And I already knew exactly who that patient was.
“No,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why give me this? There are more experienced nurses here. I’m still new.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’re testing new recruits, Miss Monro, seeing how they perform under pressure. But it seems you’re already complaining.”
“What is it with you people?” I snapped before I could stop myself. “What do you still want? Do you think I don’t know who…”
Matteo’s tone cut through mine, calm but sharp.
“If you don’t want the assignment, it’s your choice.”
I stood up, heading to the door. “Then I don’t…”
He spoke again, voice lower now, more deliberate.
“The patient doesn’t like things not going the way he wants. And I’d hate to see your friends’ careers tangled up because of your refusal.”
I froze.
My hand on the doorknob trembled.
“What do you mean?” I asked slowly.
He looked up at me, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth.
“I mean your friends will lose their jobs,” he said smoothly. “So I’d reconsider, if I were you.”
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to fall silent, no footsteps in the hallway, no sound of pages turning, not even my breath.
A cold rush of fear crawled through me, burning up my throat.
“You wouldn’t…”
“Miss Monroe,” Matteo said softly, almost kindly, “you should know by now, we, always do what’s necessary.”
My eyes stung. I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears.
He pushed a small file across the desk toward me. “You’ll find the address inside. The driver will pick you up tomorrow morning. Be ready by eight.”
I didn’t move.
“Dismissed,” he added.
I swallowed hard, took the file with trembling fingers, and turned for the door.
But before I left, Matteo spoke again.
“Oh… and one more thing.”
I turned slowly.
“Don’t tell anyone about this arrangement. Especially your friend, Raymond.”
The sound of his name sent a jolt through me.
He looked almost amused now. “You never know who might be listening.”
\---
The corridor outside felt narrower than before. My legs moved on autopilot, every sound amplified, the squeak of a stretcher’s wheel, the faint hum of an elevator, the steady beeping from patient monitors.
When I finally reached the end of the hall, I stopped and leaned against the wall, pressing the file against my chest. My heartbeat wouldn’t slow.
Through the frosted glass of a nearby door, I could see shadows, two figures passing, one tall, one shorter. The taller one moved with a familiar gait, confident and steady.
Lorenzo.
I ducked away quickly, pressing myself against the corner until the footsteps faded.
\---
By the time I found Raymond, he was standing by the nurses’ station, flipping through a chart.
He looked up immediately. “Where were you? I was starting to…”
I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Just… helping with an X-ray delivery.”
He frowned, searching my face. “You look pale. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “Just tired.”
He hesitated, then placed a hand on my shoulder. “You know you can tell me if something’s wrong, right?”
“I know.”
The warmth of his hand should’ve been comforting. But all I could think about was Matteo’s warning echoing in my head.
> Don’t tell anyone. Especially your friend Raymond.
I didn’t say anything and turned away before he could see the fear in my eyes.