Page 26 of Dangerous King (Savage Kings of New York #2)

Dio mio, being surrounded and mauled by a bunch of the most adorable puppies was not something I'd ever expect. But here I am, sitting on the ground, having my toes, fingers, hair, anything within reach mauled and gnawed at and loving every second of it.

My eyes move toward one puppy, all black, pressing himself against a wall, watching me.

"Come here, puppy," I cajole.

Enrico notices where my attention has gone and rises from his position to grab the puppy. The baby whines when he lifts it off the ground and unceremoniously dumps it into my lap. Ears go back, and large puppy eyes watch me warily.

"Hey, I won't hurt you," I say, gently petting his back. He lets out another yelp, and I notice a cut on his side. "Oh no, Enrico, he's hurt."

"Let me see."

I want to slap his hands when he manhandles the little thing, turning it this way and that, making it yelp again. "Don't hurt it."

"Ah, here, that's a nasty little gash. Looks like you're the runt of the litter, mister."

"What's going to happen to him?" I rise, carefully stepping over the many tiny bundles of fur around me.

"Julio will have him stitched up in no time. We might have to separate him from the others, though."

"Oh, poor baby." My heart goes out to him. "He's going to be all alone?"

Enrico shrugs, "Better than being mauled to death by his brothers and sisters."

Better than … I stare at him. He's right, of course he's right. Still, it sounds so cruel.

"Julio!" Enrico calls the man I met earlier.

Wringing my hands, I watch Enrico holding the puppy. It's a safe hold, but it seems… callous.

"What's up, boss?" Julio appears.

"This one is hurt; he needs some stitches."

"On it." Julio moves to take the puppy.

"Just like that?" I can't help myself.

"Don't worry, Julio will numb the area and?—"

"But… " I interrupt, biting my lip when I realize how forward I'm being. But Enrico only smiles at me.

"What? You want to hold his paw?"

I know he means it sarcastically, but I nod eagerly. "I do."

Enrico and Julio exchange an unreadable look before Enrico says, "Alright then, let's go."

I don't remember ever having been inside a vet's office, but I've seen one on TV, and the room Julio is taking us to looks just like it. A sterile, metal table, tiled floor, and walls. Cabinets, some glass, filled with medication and instruments.

Julio puts the puppy on the much too large table, and I rush to his side to make sure he doesn't fall off. "Does he have a name yet?"

"Runt?" Enrico chuckles.

"Runt?" I echo, gently scratching behind his ear. "That's not very dignified."

"He doesn't need dignity," Enrico replies dryly. "He needs stitches."

Julio sets a tray on the table and opens a syringe. "Hold his paw, ragazza. This might sting."

I cradle the puppy's head and whisper softly to him as Julio injects him with what I assume is some anesthetic. The pup lets out a single, offended yelp and then collapses into my arms with a pitiful sigh.

"Drama king," I murmur, and Enrico snorts.

It doesn't take long before the puppy is out, and Julio shaves his fur to get a better look, then cleans and stitches the puppy. He's fast and efficient. My fingers tremble, but I keep stroking the puppy's fur. I don't look away. I won't. He deserves someone to stay with him through this.

"You got a soft spot," Enrico says.

I glance up. He's leaning against the counter, watching me.

His arms are crossed over his chest, and his black eyes are unreadable.

Camilla always looked at me like a nuisance she wanted to be rid of.

In Giovanni's eyes, I was nothing but a hostage who needed to stay quiet.

Roberto… there were a few times where I was sure he was going to do something to me…

it was more of a feeling, a mean danger emanated from him that always made me uneasy.

But I can't describe the way Enrico is looking at me.

"No," I lie. "I just don't like watching things suffer."

He tilts his head, eyes sharp. "Even runts."

"Especially runts."

A moment passes between us, thick with something I can't name.

Julio finishes and tapes a tiny bandage over the stitches. "All done. He's good."

"Can I hold him?"

"You're already holding him."

"No, I mean—can I keep holding him?" I clarify. "Just for a bit."

Julio smirks and looks at Enrico, who gives a half-shrug, half-nod. "Fine. But if he pisses on your clothes, that's on you."

"I'll risk it." I adjust the pup in my arms. He's warm. He nuzzles against me like I'm his mother. My throat tightens.

Enrico's eyes are unreadable now. Guarded. "You want to keep him."

It's not a question. I shake my head anyway. "He's not mine."

"Doesn't mean he shouldn't be."

I don't know what he means. I don't want to ask. The puppy huffs softly and falls asleep against me. His little chest rises and falls, and I realize I'm matching my breathing to his.

Enrico turns and heads for the door. "Come on. Bring your mutt."

My mutt.

I glance down at the pup. My heart clenches.

I follow him out of the vet room and back into the barn. Puppies swarm around our feet again, yipping and tumbling.

Enrico stops walking and says over his shoulder, "You named him, didn't you?"

I hesitate.

"Yes," I admit quietly.

"Well?"

I look down at the pup. His fur is pitch black, but his eyes, now slightly open, are an eerie, soulful amber. There's something ancient about him. Fierce, despite his smallness.

"Shadow," I whisper. "His name is Shadow."

Enrico's lips curl in that slow, dangerous smile of his. "Fitting."

Then with an exasperated sigh, he asks, "Have you ever taken care of a dog before?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I mean, I had a goldfish once, but it died after a week."

Enrico snorts. "Poor bastard never stood a chance."

I glare at him and turn to Julio. "What do I need to do?"

Julio nods. "He's gonna need antibiotics for a few days, twice a day. I'll give you the liquid kind—it's easier with a syringe. Just squirt it in the side of his mouth."

I nod, determined. "Okay. Got it."

"Keep him separate from the rest of the litter until the wound closes up. He can't roughhouse like the others yet."

"So… like a playpen or something?"

Julio considers. "Yeah. I'll rig up a crate with some soft bedding. Don't let him jump too much. And no stairs."

"Got it," I repeat, mentally taking notes like I'm prepping for a final exam.

"He'll need food, wet stuff for now. Easy to digest. Small meals, three times a day. I'll give you some."

"Thank you," I say, and I mean it. My voice comes out soft.

Julio shrugs like it's nothing. "You want him to live, right?"

I glance down at the little black bundle curled in my arms. Shadow. He's already snoring. I nod. "Yeah. I really do."

"Then listen to what I say," Julio smirks. "You'll be fine. He already likes you."

Enrico watches me silently. He doesn't say a word, but the way his gaze lingers on me sends a chill down my spine, hot and slow and dangerous.

Julio claps his hands. "Alright. I'll grab the meds and a crate."

He disappears into the hallway, leaving me alone with Enrico and the sleeping puppy.