Chapter 4: The Forty-Second Floor
The private medical suite on the forty-second floor resembled a high-tech ICU more than a residential penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the rain-drenched skyline, broken only by banks of blinking monitors, automated IV pumps, and surgical trays stocked with pristine instruments. It was a setup that cost more than my entire annual salary at the public hospital.
After a hot shower in the adjoining private bath and trading my sodden scrubs for a pair of oversized grey sweatpants and a clean cotton t-shirt provided by one of Dominic's housekeepers, I felt somewhat human again. My wet hair was braided tightly down my back, keeping it out of my face as I checked Julian's vitals for the third time that hour. His blood pressure was stabilizing, the tension pneumothorax successfully relieved by the emergency procedure we performed in the back of the SUV.
The heavy oak door to the suite opened silently, and Dominic stepped inside. He had changed out of his ruined charcoal suit into a simple black cashmere sweater and dark trousers, though the severe, guarded expression on his face remained unchanged. He set a steaming paper cup of black coffee on the metal tray beside the monitor and stood quietly at the foot of Julian's bed, watching his brother's chest rise and fall in a steady, rhythmic pattern.
"He's going to make it through the night," I said quietly, breaking the heavy silence as I adjusted the flow rate on the saline drip. "Thanks to your quick driving, mostly."
Dominic picked up the cup of coffee, though he didn't drink from it. His dark eyes flicked from his brother's pale face over to me, lingering for a fraction of a second longer than professional courtesy required. "You're deflecting. You could have run when we reached the elevator. My guards wouldn't have stopped you if you walked out into the garage."
"And go where?" I asked, leaning back against the counter and wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic mug of tea one of the staff had brought earlier. "My apartment lease was tied to my hospital stipend. As of five o'clock today, I'm technically homeless, blacklisted by every major medical network in the state, and apparently sharing airspace with a man who has half the city's underworld gunning for him. Walking out into the rain didn't seem like much of an upgrade."
A faint, humorless ghost of a smile touched the corner of Dominic's mouth. It softened his hard features just enough to reveal the exhaustion beneath. "You have a pragmatic streak, Maya. I respect that."
"Save your respect for someone who trusts you," I retorted, though the sharpness in my voice lacked its earlier venom. The proximity in the penthouse was suffocating, not because of the guards stationed outside the door, but because of the intense, gravitational pull of the man standing across the room. There was an unspoken vulnerability in Dominic that he kept locked behind walls of steel and wealth, and working alongside him in this sterile sanctuary felt like chipping away at armor meant to withstand artillery.
Dominic took a slow step closer, closing the distance between us until I could smell the faint scent of rain and cedar on his skin. "You saved my brother's life. In my world, that makes you family whether you want the title or not. And family doesn't get abandoned to the streets."
May you like
"Your world sounds exhausting," I murmured, looking directly into his dark eyes, refusing to look away even as my heart hammered an erratic rhythm against my ribs that had nothing to do with medicine.
"It is," Dominic whispered, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly register that seemed to pull the air right out of the room. "Until now."
