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Natalia peered up at me, eyes brimming withemotion despite her drunken state. She wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. "Don't leave me again..."
"Never," I whispered fervently, cradling her close with my good arm. I would find a way for us to be together, fate be damned. This was where I belonged.
Natalia's POV:
The alcohol fog clouding my brain began to lift when I saw the blood staining Leonardo's shirt. He was hurt. I may have been upset with him for being so late, but nothing mattered more than making sure he was okay.
I touched the worrisome spot of red again, frowning. "You're bleeding," I mumbled worriedly.
Leonardo clasped my hand gently. "It's just a scratch, nothing to worry about." But I could hear the strain in his voice now.
My protective instincts flared. Leonardo always acted so strong and untouchable. But now he was injured and needed my care.
"We should go upstairs," I said, steadying myself against him. I was still quite tipsy, but lucid enough to take charge. "Let me tend to your wound properly in the room."
Leonardo started to protest, but I fixed him with my most stern, no-nonsense look. The one I typically reserved for commanding the male mafia underlings.
"It wasn't a suggestion," I informed him haughtily. Sometimes you had to be bossy with tough, macho men for their own good.
That seemed to amuse Leonardo, his lips quirking. "Yes ma'am," he chuckled. He helped support me as we made our way out of the bar toward the elevators.
I leaned heavily against his strong frame, mind swirling with questions about what had caused his injury. But first, I needed to care for Leonardo. I could be protective too.
Up in the lavish suite, I immediately picked up the phone and ordered a bottle of whiskey from room service.
Leonardo raised an eyebrow at me. “Got some wild plans for tonight?” he teased.
I chuckled and shot him a look, even as warmth pooled in my belly at the implication. “It’s not for that. It’s for your injury - the whiskey will disinfect it.”
“Of course,” Leonardo chuckled. He winced slightly as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the hastily wrapped bandage beneath.
My breath caught seeing the blood-spotted dressing. Gently, I helped peel it away, examining the raw, seeping bullet grazealong his muscular shoulder. Leonardo remained stoic, but I could tell it caused him pain.
When the whiskey arrived, I poured some over a cloth and delicately cleaned the torn skin. Leonardo hissed through his teeth at the sting.
“I know it hurts, but we have to keep it clean,” I soothed. Against my nursing ministrations, he was surprisingly compliant. The mighty warrior, gentled.
Re-bandaging the graze snugly, I then retrieved an ice bucket and wrapped some cubes in a towel for Leonardo to help control swelling. I may have learned these techniques from mafia doctors patching up wounded soldiers, but they worked all the same.
“There, that should hold for now,” I said, washing the blood from my hands.
Leonardo smiled and then turned to to look at me curiously.
"Where did you learn to treat wounds so expertly?" he asked.
I gave a small smile, sitting beside him on the bed. "When you grow up in the mafia world, gunshots and knife fights are common. I've been patching up my brothers since I was a girl."
Leonardo lifted my hand to his lips. "Not the typical childhood games for a young lady."
I shrugged. "I wanted to help. And the men were more agreeable to it once they realized I could be useful. They wouldn't accept medical aid from just anyone."
"I can imagine," Leonardo said. He traced his thumb lightly over the faded scars on my knuckles - souvenirs from my early medical training days.
"Enzo got into tussles constantly trying to prove himself," I recalled with a shake of my head. "I stitched him up too many times to count."
Leonardo studied me thoughtfully. "You're stronger than people realize, underneath that polished exterior."
I laced my fingers through his. "I don't have to hide any part of myself with you. It's...freeing."
