Chapter 61
Vitale's sweet words touched Isabella so deeply that she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to return his kiss.
But the moment she leaned forward, her hand unintentionally pressed against his left chest.
She felt an unnatural dip there, followed by a suppressed grunt of pain.
"Damn it." Vitale gritted his teeth, beads of cold sweat instantly forming on his forehead.
Isabella quickly pulled her hand back, as if she'd been burned.
She saw dark red stains on her fingertips, glaring under the light like a warning signal.
"Oh my God." she trembled as she lifted Vitale's shirt.
The wound was worse than she had imagined.
Thick bandages were wrapped around Vitale's lower left chest, but fresh blood had already seeped through, spreading a shocking red across the white gauze.
That spot was dangerously close to his heart, just a few inches away.
"Did you get into a fight?" Isabella covered her mouth with both hands, stepping back in shock. "Or is this a gunshot wound?"
Vitale forced a smirk. "I'm fine, Isabella."
"You're bleeding!" Isabella's eyes instantly turned red.
She wanted to touch him but was afraid of hurting him, her hands hovering helplessly in the air, "What happened? Who could hurt you? How could you even get injured?"
Vitale leaned against the desk for support, his face pale but still managing a smile, "I'm not as tough as you think, Isabella. Now that you know, will you leave me?"
"No! God, how could you even think that?" Tears finally slid down Isabella's cheeks. "You're bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital!"
She turned to grab the phone, but Vitale pulled her back.
The movement clearly tugged at his wound, and he let out a muffled groan, yet he still held her wrist tightly.
"Isabella, listen," his voice was hoarse from the pain, "I'm used to this. This kind of injury is nothing. Can we just go back to what we were talking about? About Carter..."
"No way!" Isabella rarely got angry, but now she stomped her foot and pushed him away when he tried to kiss her, "I'm taking you to the hospital, right now!"
Vitale looked at her red eyes and trembling lips, finally letting out a sigh and raising his hands in surrender, "Alright, alright. But at least let me put my clothes back on first?"
He paused, then added, "And I don't think a hospital would be too keen on treating someone like me. How about you help me change the dressing? I've got a first aid kit in my office."
That calmed Isabella down a little.
She did know basic nursing skills.
Before her mother passed away, she had been bedridden for a long time, and Isabella had learned how to change dressings, take blood pressure, and even handle simple wounds.
"Where's the first aid kit?"
"In the break room."
The break room at the back of the office was bigger than Isabella had expected.
Besides a large bed, there was also a small workspace.
Isabella noticed the computer screen was on, showing an encrypted chat window and a few blurry photos, but she deliberately looked away.
There were many parts of Vitale's world she didn't understand, and she chose to respect those boundaries.
Vitale leaned against the headboard, his movements slow as he unbuttoned his shirt.
Isabella found the first aid kit in a cabinet and opened it to find a surprisingly complete set of supplies.
Suturing tools, antibiotics, painkillers, even plasma substitutes.
"Do you get hurt often?" she asked quietly, carefully starting to remove the blood-soaked gauze.
"Sometimes," Vitale watched her movements, a rare hint of wariness in his eyes, "Isabella, be gentle. You know my way of dealing with pain is to sleep with you. If you hurt me, I might not be able to hold back."
Isabella's face instantly turned red, "So, my underwear disappearing last night was your doing? You're such a jerk, Vitale."
When the wound was fully exposed, she gasped.
A deep gash ran diagonally from his lower left chest to his ribs. The edges had been stitched, but a few stitches had come loose, and blood was slowly seeping out.
Even more alarming were the purple bruises around it, showing this wasn't just a simple cut but a mark from a fight.
"Did this happen last night?" Isabella's voice trembled.
Vitale didn't deny it, "Yeah, I taught Simon a lesson, but he got me too."
Isabella bit her lower lip and started cleaning the wound.
When the alcohol-soaked cotton touched the injury, Vitale's muscles tensed sharply, but he didn't make a sound.
She could tell he was holding back, the veins at his temple slightly bulging.
To distract him, Isabella started chatting.
It was a trick she'd learned while caring for her mother.
"Carter said she's taking me to meet some investors next week."
"Good. The people she knows are pretty reliable."
"She also said the color of my dress is too dark and I should wear something brighter."
"She's right. You'd look amazing in red."
"Vitale."
"What?"
"Can you keep your hands to yourself?"
Isabella irritably slapped away his hand, which had been groping her chest.
Vitale raised an eyebrow innocently, "Sorry, it has a mind of its own."
"I think your 'it' needs some serious discipline," Isabella refocused on the wound, sterilizing the suturing needle over an alcohol lamp until it gleamed coldly, "What work do you have for me next?"
"I need profit analysis reports for the past ten years," Vitale's voice was tight with pain, "And a forecast model for the new business. I want to know how much return we can expect in three years if we expand to Aquilonia."
"That requires top-level data access."
"You'll have it." Vitale's hand restlessly slid to her thigh. "Amboni will give you full access this afternoon."
Isabella lightly pressed the sterilized scissors between his legs. "Vito, if you move one more time, I'll show you what real pain feels like."
Vitale immediately raised his hands, "Damn, are you trying to hurt the thing that makes you happy?"
"Just accidentally placed it there." Isabella flashed a sly smile and continued suturing.
"Is that so?" Vitale's voice suddenly turned dangerous and husky, "You know what happens when you tease me, Isabella."
The last stitch was done.
Isabella applied fresh gauze and secured it with medical tape.
As she packed up the tools, Vitale suddenly pulled her into his arms, completely ignoring the freshly sutured wound.
"Vitale! Your injury..."
His kiss silenced all protests.
The kiss carried the taste of blood and antiseptic, so intense that Isabella couldn't breathe.
Only when they were both gasping for air did Vitale let her go.
"That first night..." Isabella rested on his shoulder, asking softly. "Were you injured then too?"
Vitale was silent for a long time, so long that Isabella thought he wouldn't answer.
"Yeah," he finally said, his fingers absentmindedly stroking her hair, "That afternoon, I dealt with a traitor who betrayed Liliana. I was hurt, so I shouldn't have touched you that night. But I couldn't control myself."
Isabella remembered the details of that night.
His pauses at certain moments, the way he avoided certain angles, and how he insisted she not join him in the bathroom.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry, babe, I'm injured, might not last long tonight'?" Vitale chuckled, but the movement tugged at his wound, making him wince.
Isabella gently touched the gauze on his chest, "Promise me, if you get hurt again, you'll tell me."
"Why?"
"Because..." She looked up at Vitale, her eyes serious. "If you're fighting for me, at least let me know what you're going through. Let me take care of you, just like you take care of me now."
Vitale stared at her, complex emotions swirling in his blue eyes.
Finally, he lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers, "Isabella Lorraine, you're becoming my most dangerous weakness."
"No," Isabella cupped his face, "I'm becoming a part of you, and your wounds are my wounds."