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A sinking feeling washes over me as I realize who it must be. I turn to excuse myself, but the administrator cuts me off. "We're not done here, Dr. Moretti."
"Unless you intend to fire me right now so I can go and get some sleep, then yes, we are done." My voice is cold, sharper than I intended, but I'm past playing the nice girl right now.
I storm out of the office and into the waiting room, my anger giving me tunnel vision. There, just as I suspected, stands Constantino. Sebastian and his son are standing closer to the entrance and off to the side. The sight of Constantino stirs up an ugly mix of conflicting emotions – fear, anger, and an unwanted desire.
There's a part of me that's happy he showed up. After all, the last time he went no contact I damn near lost my mind. But, things feel different right now. As if his appearance isn't driven by attraction, but something else. Even still, I told myself I was done and I meant it.
"Constantino," I say, my voice shaking slightly. He looks up at me, his green eyes full of concern. As he strides toward me, all I want to do is run, but I stand my ground.
"Let's go," he says urgently, trying to usher me toward the exit.
"What are you doing?" I yell, pushing his hand away. "What makes you think you can just barge into my life like this and tell me where to go all the time?"
"Look, Evelyn," he replies, his voice tight. "It's not safe to talk here. Things have escalated, and I need to get you to a safe place."
"Safe? With you?" I scoff, my anger rising. "I'm not part of your world, and I don't want to be."
“I keep telling you, whether you like it or not, you're involved now," he snaps back. "You think I wanted any of this? You think I asked for someone like you to come barging into my life?"
"Someone like me?" I repeat, feeling the sting of his words. "You have no idea who I am. You don't know anything about me."
"Maybe not," he says, his voice softening. "But I know that you're in danger, and I'm trying to protect you."
"Protect me?" I laugh bitterly. "You can't even protect yourself from your own demons, Constantino. How could you possibly protect me?"
We stare each other down, our eyes locked in a heated battle of wills. In this moment, we are both wounded animals, lashing out at each other in our pain and anger. And as much as I want to deny it, there's a dark, primal part of me that wants to give in to the storm raging between us. But I can't – not now, not ever.
"Leave me alone," I say finally, my voice breaking. "I never asked for any of this."
Our heated exchange is suddenly interrupted by the entrance of a man who clearly doesn't belong here. He's tall, built like a tank, with a beard and enough tattoos to rival an art gallery. Flanked by three equally menacing guys, he strides into the waiting room with a predatory grace that sends shivers down my spine.
"Who the hell is that?" I find myself whispering, my gaze locked onto the stranger as though drawn by some magnetic pull.
"Trouble," Constantino mutters under his breath, his body tensing as if ready for a fight.
The tattooed man's eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I'm caught in his sinister smile, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than I ever have before. Then, his attention shifts to Constantino, and the smile twists into something even more terrifying.
In a heartbeat, the situation escalates beyond anything I could have imagined. The stranger and his goons reveal the guns they've been concealing, pointing them directly at us. Panic surges through me, drowning out every rational thought, and I can't help but wonder how the hell my life has spiraled so far out of control.
"Looks like you've made some new friends, Maldonado," the tattooed man sneers. "Pity they won't be around for long."
My breath catches in my throat, and as I glance at Constantino, I see a flicker of fear in his eyes that matches my own.
And I can't help but think this might be the end.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Fuck fuck fuck," I mutter under my breath, a mantra of the damned as Declan O'Leary and his muscle-bound goons level their guns at us. The cold steel of their barrels glints in the bright light. My hands shoot up instinctively, but they're trembling—not with fear for my own skin, no. It's the knowledge that Evelyn is right behind me and the sight of Sebastian and his kid by the door that's got my heart kicking against my ribs like it's trying to break out.
I cast a glance toward Evelyn. Protecting her and seeing Evan make it out of here alive becomes my silent vow. Screw my own life; if it's theirs or mine, I'd toss mine into the fire without a second thought. That’s a brand new itch in the back of my mind, unsettling in its intensity.
"Constantino, you've gotten sloppy," Declan sneers, his voice a low rumble that echoes off the sterile walls. "Probably too busy chasing tail to watch your back, huh?" His head tilts ever soslightly toward Evelyn, and my blood boils hotter than the pits of Hell.
"Declan, listen—" I start, trying to keep my tone even and calm, though I want to rip him apart with my bare hands. "Our war is between us and let's keep it that way, yeah? These people, they aren't part of this. Let them walk, and no one else gets hurt."
"Ha!" Declan barks out a laugh that's more a growl, and the sound of it scrapes along my nerves. "You think I give a rat's ass about casualties? I thought you knew me better than that."
I'm glaring daggers at him now, but I keep my hands raised, palms open, showing I'm not playing any tricks. "Just let them go, Declan."
