Dating My Enemy's Brother

**ER Lounge, 10:12 PM** The phone buzzed against Emerie's hip. She glanced at the screen. **Albert Maroni** She answered. “I'm on shift, Albert." “Just come for twenty minutes. It's a small gathering. No patients will die in twenty minutes." “They might," she said, already irritated. “And if they do, I'm the one writing the report." A beat of silence. “That's a no?" “It's a no." She hung up. **Ten minutes later** Two tall men in suits entered the lounge. “Dr. Emerie, yes?" one asked politely. She nodded slowly, setting down her tablet. “Mr. Maroni requests your company. We're here to escort you." “I'm working." “The chief said you can be spared. We'll have you back within the hour." She turned toward the nurse's station, but found Dr. Rubin waving her off with a forced smile. “Go ahead, Emerie. It's... fine." She didn't argue. She just picked up her coat and walked. **Private Club — Underground Lounge** The room gleamed with glass, marble, and danger. Men in sharp suits lounged in leather chairs, glasses half-full, cigars trailing smoke. At the center of it all sat Albert. “Emerie," he said warmly, rising. “You came." “Your goons kidnapped me." “I call it initiative." Laughter rippled through the room. Emerie scanned the faces—none familiar, all powerful. She stepped forward, jaw clenched. Albert handed her a glass of red wine. “I don't drink," she said. “One sip." “I have to return to work." Albert's smile didn't budge. “Just one sip. For respect." “For who? You?" “For us." “There is no 'us.'" The room quieted slightly. Someone chuckled, nervous. Albert's eyes sharpened. “It's just a toast, Emerie." She stared at the glass. “Then drink it yourself." A beat passed. He stepped closer. “You embarrass me in front of men I protect." “You embarrassed yourself by dragging me here like a trophy." He grabbed her chin, not hard, but firm. “Don't make this difficult." Her voice was low and steady. “Don't make this violent." Another chuckle, meaner this time. Albert tilted the glass. “Open." She kept her mouth shut. His fingers pinched. Red wine spilled, staining her lips, her blouse, her dignity. It burned as it slid down her throat. The room clapped. Emerie wiped her mouth slowly with the back of her sleeve. “You owe my patients an apology." The room fell still. Albert's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “You'll learn I protect what's mine." “I am not yours." He leaned in, voice velvet and venom. “You will be." “No," she said quietly. “I won't." **Outside the Club** Albert escorted her out with two bodyguards trailing. “You're making things harder than they need to be," he said. “Good." “I didn't bring you here to humiliate you." “No? Just to prove you could." “I was trying to include you. Don't twist it." She stopped walking. “That's your problem. You think force is affection. It's not." He reached to touch her arm. She stepped back. “You will come around," he said softly. “I will come for your throat," she replied, “if you do that again." He laughed, low and dangerous. “You're bold." “No," she said, turning toward the waiting cab. “I'm done being afraid." He watched the taxi drive off, rain beginning to fall like static over asphalt. Inside the cab, she pulled out her phone and opened a blank note. **Entry 001** — Location: Redgate Club, 10:47 PM — Witnesses: ~12 men, bodyguards x2 — Event: forced removal, coerced contact, public humiliation — Subject: A. Maroni — Response: Non-compliance. Counter-threat issued. — Status: Calm. Focused. Beginning record. She hit save. And smiled.