Page 100
Story: Savage Don's Captive
I meet his gaze, steady and sure, his signature smirk hinting at something deeper. A quiet certainty settles over me—he’s got me.
“The bullet landed inches from your spine. Any closer, and we’d be talking paralysis, organ damage, internal bleeding… even death.”
“Jesus.”
“Well, someone was watching over you. We removed the bullet, but you suffered severe hemorrhaging.”
Dominic’s jaw clenches. “She’s going to be fine though, right...she’s not going to die?” I roll my eyes. Same question he asked Gabriella last time.
“She’ll be in the ICU for a bit, but barring complications, I see no reason she won’t make a full recovery.”
Relief flickers in Dominic’s eyes before he smothers it.
“Flatlining can cause confusion, memory loss, fatigue—”
“And how long until I get discharged?” I cut in. The last thing I want is to waste time in a hospital.
“A week. Minimum. We need to monitor you for complications.”
“She’ll stay as long as she needs to, Doc.”
Ugh. I hate hospitals.
“Fine. Can I at least get some water?”
“Your digestive system needs time to wake from the anesthesia, but I can get you ice chips. No solids for a few hours.”
“Great.”
“Pain levels?”
“On a scale of one to ten? Five hundred.”
He chuckles. “I’ll have the nurse adjust your IV, so you can rest.”
Hallelujah!
“Thanks, Doc.”
Doctor Whitmore scribbles in his binder, then moves to leave, but Dominic rises, stopping him.
“Have you seen Doctor Giovani today?”
Whitmore frowns. “No. I covered three of her surgeries.”
“Did she say where she’d be?”
“She didn’t. Which is odd—Doctor Giovani never misses a surgery.”
The words land like a gut punch.
Gabriella doesn’t just miss surgeries. She’s as dedicated to her practice as Dominic is to his empire.
Something’s wrong.
I catch the shift in Dominic—the subtle hardening of his gaze, the calculation ticking behind his eyes. The protective lover holding my hand vanishes. In his place stands the ruthlessenforcer, assessing threats, weighing options—most of them deadly.
“Dom.” I squeeze his hand, pulling him back to me. “What’s happening? Where is she?”
“The bullet landed inches from your spine. Any closer, and we’d be talking paralysis, organ damage, internal bleeding… even death.”
“Jesus.”
“Well, someone was watching over you. We removed the bullet, but you suffered severe hemorrhaging.”
Dominic’s jaw clenches. “She’s going to be fine though, right...she’s not going to die?” I roll my eyes. Same question he asked Gabriella last time.
“She’ll be in the ICU for a bit, but barring complications, I see no reason she won’t make a full recovery.”
Relief flickers in Dominic’s eyes before he smothers it.
“Flatlining can cause confusion, memory loss, fatigue—”
“And how long until I get discharged?” I cut in. The last thing I want is to waste time in a hospital.
“A week. Minimum. We need to monitor you for complications.”
“She’ll stay as long as she needs to, Doc.”
Ugh. I hate hospitals.
“Fine. Can I at least get some water?”
“Your digestive system needs time to wake from the anesthesia, but I can get you ice chips. No solids for a few hours.”
“Great.”
“Pain levels?”
“On a scale of one to ten? Five hundred.”
He chuckles. “I’ll have the nurse adjust your IV, so you can rest.”
Hallelujah!
“Thanks, Doc.”
Doctor Whitmore scribbles in his binder, then moves to leave, but Dominic rises, stopping him.
“Have you seen Doctor Giovani today?”
Whitmore frowns. “No. I covered three of her surgeries.”
“Did she say where she’d be?”
“She didn’t. Which is odd—Doctor Giovani never misses a surgery.”
The words land like a gut punch.
Gabriella doesn’t just miss surgeries. She’s as dedicated to her practice as Dominic is to his empire.
Something’s wrong.
I catch the shift in Dominic—the subtle hardening of his gaze, the calculation ticking behind his eyes. The protective lover holding my hand vanishes. In his place stands the ruthlessenforcer, assessing threats, weighing options—most of them deadly.
“Dom.” I squeeze his hand, pulling him back to me. “What’s happening? Where is she?”
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