The Devil's Surgeon

Costa paradiso

REIGN POV

In just four days, my patient had made remarkable progress. He could stand on his own now and walk around the villa with little assistance. If there were no complications, I'd discharge him before leaving.

I had my belongings all packed up. Tomorrow was Saturday. I would finally be going home.

As much as I'd grown to love the island, I still missed the comfort of my own apartment. I smiled to myself while zipping up my overnight bag. I'd truly landed a stroke of luck when I found that place — newly built, nestled in one of New York City's nicest neighborhoods, and surprisingly affordable considering the outrageous housing prices. Everything I needed was close by: Westridge Medical Institute, the supermarket, the bus stop, even the little café I visited whenever I managed to leave work before sunset. It wasn't much, but it was home.

I looked around the guest suite one last time. It was almost impossible to believe this was a guest room — elegant Italian furniture filled the space, and the balcony overlooked the endless blue sea, the soft sound of waves drifting in through the open doors. For a moment I simply stood there, taking it all in. Costa Paradiso truly lived up to its name. No wonder it's called paradise.

A knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in."

One of the house staff stepped inside. "Mrs. Holt is in the kitchen if you're looking for her, Doctor."

I smiled. "Thank you."

I made my way downstairs, the aroma of freshly baked bread greeting me before I even reached the kitchen. Mrs. Holt stood by the counter preparing lunch, and the elderly woman looked up and smiled warmly. "Just in time. I was beginning to think you'd skipped another meal."

I laughed. "I've been caught."

"You doctors are all the same." Mrs. Holt placed a bowl of freshly made pasta in front of me. "Sit."

"I've learned arguing with you is pointless."

"Exactly."

I smiled as I took a seat. Over the past four days, the housekeeper had quietly become one of my favorite people on the island. Mrs. Holt fussed over me like a mother — if I skipped breakfast, she noticed. She always had tea waiting before I even asked. It reminded me a little of Aunt Rose.

"You'll spoil me," I teased.

Mrs. Holt chuckled. "Someone has to."

After lunch, the older woman insisted on taking me for a walk around Costa Paradiso. Although Giovanni's security was impossible to miss, the island itself felt peaceful. The locals greeted us warmly, children waved as they passed, an elderly fisherman handed me a basket of freshly picked oranges, and another woman offered homemade pastries, refusing to accept payment.

"The people here are so kind," I said.

Mrs. Holt smiled proudly. "We look after one another."

Our walk eventually led us to the beach. Crystal-clear water stretched endlessly toward the horizon, and the breeze carried the scent of salt and wildflowers. I closed my eyes for a second. I could get used to this. Almost. But despite everything, I still miss the bustling city.

As we walked back toward the villa, a familiar thought crossed my mind. Everything about Costa Paradiso was wonderful — the scenery, the food, the people, even the staff. Everyone, except one person.

Giovanni De Castello.

I huffed under my breath. What a grumpy man. I'd never imagined my mysterious patient would turn out to be the country's most talked-about billionaire CEO. Even after saving his life, he always looked at me as though I were interrogating him instead of treating him.

"Hopeless," I muttered.

A laugh sounded behind me. "Talking about Giovanni already?"

I turned to find Raffaele leaning casually against a stone pillar, sunglasses perched on his nose. "You'll hurt his feelings."

I snorted. "I highly doubt Mr. De Castello has feelings."

Raffaele laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. "Oh, I like you. I've been trying to tell him that for years."

I shook my head. "I still can't believe you're his best friend."

"Neither can I." He placed a dramatic hand over his chest. "Yet here we are."

I laughed. For all his wealth and good looks, Raffaele was surprisingly easy to talk to — always smiling, always teasing, the complete opposite of Giovanni. Nico, on the other hand, was polite and cheerful whenever our paths crossed. Sebastian, well — Sebastian was the same as his mean-tempered boss.

"What?" Raffaele asked, noticing my expression.

I glanced toward the entrance where Sebastian stood with his usual unreadable face. "Does he ever smile?"

Raffaele followed my gaze before grinning. "I've known him for years. I'm still waiting."

I laughed.

Raffaele pushed himself away from the pillar and glanced toward the sparkling sea. "The current is perfect today." He turned to me with a grin. "How about we go surfing?"

My eyes widened. "No way."

Raffaele blinked. "Why?"

I shook my head immediately. "I'm scared."

That earned me a surprised look. "The woman who spends hours cutting people open is afraid of the sea?"

I folded my arms. "Surgery and surfing are completely two different things."

Raffaele burst into laughter. "Fair point." He looked toward the beach again before smiling. "That's not a problem. We can work on that."

I raised an eyebrow. "Work on it?"

"Yeah." He pointed toward the sea. "Think of it as one last adventure before you leave tomorrow. And when you visit next time—" he flashed his trademark charming smile, "—I'll take you out on my yacht."

I couldn't help laughing. "You've already planned my return?"

"I like planning ahead."

I pretended to think about it for a few seconds. "Fine. But if I drown—"

Raffaele gasped dramatically. "Doctor! I would never let you drown."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't even have surfing gear."

Raffaele waved a dismissive hand. "Leave that to me."

Less than twenty minutes later, I stared at myself in disbelief — the surfing suit actually fit me. I adjusted the sleeves awkwardly before accepting the surfboard Raffaele handed me.

"I still think this is a terrible idea."

"It'll only be a terrible idea if you refuse to listen to your instructor."

"Oh?" I tilted my head. "And who made you my instructor?"

"I did."

We both laughed as we made our way back toward the beach. The golden sand was warm beneath our feet, small waves rolling gently toward the shore.

"It starts with balance," Raffaele explained, setting his board onto the sand. "Don't fight the wave. Move with it."

I nodded seriously. "Got it."

Five minutes later, *splash* — I resurfaced, coughing as water dripped from my hair. Raffaele laughed so hard he nearly fell off his own board.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Oh, I am." I narrowed my eyes playfully. "I'm also plotting how to push you into the water."

"You'll have to catch me first."

The lesson continued. I fell again, and again, and each time Raffaele patiently corrected my stance. "Keep your knees bent. Look ahead. Trust yourself." Slowly, I improved. By midday I managed to stand for a few seconds before falling. By afternoon, I rode a small wave all the way to shore.

"I did it!" My excited laugh echoed across the beach.

Raffaele clapped proudly. "I told you. You're a fast learner."

I couldn't stop smiling. I hadn't laughed this much in — I couldn't even remember. The stress, the endless surgeries, the bills, the foreclosure notice — for a few precious hours, I forgot all of it.

The afternoon slipped into evening before either of us noticed. The sky glowed with streaks of orange and pink as the sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon.

"Seems like you had so much fun today," Raffaele said, picking up his board.

I nodded happily. "My arms are going to hate me tomorrow."

"They'll survive."

Together, we began walking back toward the villa, me skipping ahead barefoot in the sand, humming softly to myself. I felt lighter than I had in weeks. For the first time in a long while, I was simply happy.

---

**Third Person POV**

High above them, on the balcony of the villa, Giovanni stood silently. Dressed only in a pair of black trousers, his chest still lightly bandaged beneath the open evening air, he rested one hand against the balcony railing, his icy blue eyes following the woman below.

He'd watched the entire afternoon unfold. Watched her fall. Watched her laugh. Watched her get back up every single time.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Interesting."