Chapter 13
775 Words
Amelia finished her coffee in silence. The east-wing kitchen was warm, but the restless energy humming beneath her skin made it impossible to sit still. She was a nurse. She wasn't built for sitting still.
Sitting in a mansion waiting for a mafia war to start was going to make her lose her mind. She washed her mug in the sink and walked straight back up the marble stairs to the third floor. The heavy doors to Nicolai’s study were closed. She knocked twice, sharply, and pushed them open before anyone answered. Nicolai was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the ocean. He turned his head, his dark eyes sweeping over her fitted black tank top and jeans before meeting her gaze.
"I need something to do," Amelia said, stepping into the room. "I’m a nurse. If people get hurt, I can help. I can't just sit upstairs in that closet." Nicolai turned fully around. He didn't look surprised by her demand. "You are not staff, Amelia," Nicolai said, his voice a low, even rumble.
"You are not here to stitch up my men."
"I need to be useful," she argued, lifting her chin. "I'm not a pet." Nicolai’s jaw tightened slightly. He closed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps until he was standing right in front of her. "I don't keep pets," he murmured, looking down at her. "But you are not working in a basement. Come with me."
He led her out of the master wing and toward a discreet, polished steel elevator hidden behind a decorative panel in the wall.
They dropped two floors down, deep into the foundation of the cliffside estate. When the metal doors slid open, Amelia stepped out into a completely different world. Stainless-steel cabinets lined the walls. Monitors hummed quietly beside three fully equipped trauma bays. The sharp scent of antiseptic hit her before the doors had fully opened.
In the center bay, a young guard was sitting on the edge of a gurney, his shirt off and a bloody towel pressed to his shoulder. Standing over him was a man in dark scrubs. He was using a pair of forceps to dig a piece of shrapnel out of the guard's collarbone. Beside him, a quiet, broad-shouldered medical assistant was holding a tray of surgical tools. "Hold still, you i***t," the doctor muttered in Russian-accented English, completely focused on the wound. "If you flinch again, I'm going to leave the metal in there and let it rust." Nicolai stepped out of the elevator. His heavy combat boots echoed loudly against the tile floor.
The medical assistant straightened immediately. The guard slid off the gurney despite the fresh wound. Even Dr. Voss stopped mid-stitch, dropping the bloody piece of shrapnel into a metal basin. He spun around, his posture instantly snapping into absolute, rigid submission. "Boss," the doctor said, his voice breathless and laced with fear. "I apologize, I didn't know you were coming down." "Return to your work, Dr. Voss," Nicolai commanded smoothly, stepping into the center of the room with Amelia at his side.
"Yes, Mr. Volkov," Voss said quickly.
He turned back to the guard, but Amelia noticed a slight tremble in the doctor's hands as he took a suture needle from his assistant. Nicolai looked down at Amelia.
"Voss ran trauma before he came to me."
"Anton was military."
"You're not needed here."
Amelia looked around the clinic and said nothing.
Dr. Voss tied off a stitch on the guard's shoulder and tentatively glanced back at Nicolai. His eyes briefly flicked to Amelia.
A woman.
Standing beside the Boss.
His stomach tightened. So this was the woman. He didn't dare stare, one glance was enough before he forced his attention back to the guard.
"You see?" Nicolai murmured to Amelia, his hand coming up to rest lightly, possessively, against the small of her back. The heat of his palm seeped right through her thin tank top. His grip was surprisingly gentle. It didn't match the man everyone in the estate seemed terrified of.
"The men are cared for. Your only job in this house is to survive." Amelia looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close he was. "So what am I supposed to do all day?" "Whatever you want," Nicolai said.
She let him guide her toward the elevator without arguing. away from the blood and the sharp smell of iodine.
"But tomorrow, you are leaving the estate." Amelia blinked in surprise as the elevator doors closed, shutting out the clinic. "Leaving? To go where?"
"To the city. You need more clothes, moya. I am taking you shopping."
- Writer
