The Don's Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 4: Background Check

Matteo De Luca had spent the entire drive home telling himself the same thing.

‘She was just a doctor.’

That was all.

A doctor who had been unfortunate enough to find herself caught in the middle of something that had nothing to do with her. A doctor who had saved a man’s life when most people would have frozen. A doctor who had looked him directly in the eyes after he had put a gun in her hospital and somehow still found the nerve to threaten him right back.

But still…

Just a doctor.

Matteo leaned back against the leather seat, his gaze fixed on the passing lights outside the tinted window. The city moved past in blurred streaks of gold and white. His jaw tightened. Why was he still thinking about her?

He had met countless people in his life. Men who feared him. Men who hated him. Women who wanted his attention, his protection, his name. None of them had followed him home in his thoughts the way this woman had.

Yet somehow, every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers.

Brown.

Steady.

Too damn bold.

He remembered the way she had stood in front of him in that hospital hallway, shoulders squared, chin lifted, voice steady even after the cold metal of a gun had pressed against her temple.

‘And get out of my way.’

His mouth tightened. Who spoke to him like that? Almost no one. And certainly not someone who had a weapon pointed at her head minutes earlier.

Matteo looked away from the window. His fingers curled once against the armrest.

“She was just doing her job,” he said quietly, almost as though hearing the words aloud would make them true.

A doctor doing what doctors does. Nothing more.

The De Luca estate came into view moments later. The massive iron gates opened as Matteo’s convoy approached, with security personnel stationed discreetly along the property. The main house rose beyond the gates, its dark stone walls illuminated by warm lights against the night. It was imposing without being gaudy, the kind of place that carried its history in every corner. The estate had belonged to his grandfather long before Matteo inherited the responsibility that came with the De Luca name.

The cars rolled to a stop.

Matteo stepped out first. The night air was cool against his face. Marco Rossi exited the vehicle behind him, straightening his jacket as he glanced toward the house. Neither man spoke as they crossed the entrance. The silence between them was familiar, the kind that came from years of working side by side.

Inside, the estate was quiet. Too quiet after the chaos of the hospital. The contrast settled over Matteo like a weight he refused to acknowledge.

He removed his jacket and handed it to one of the waiting staff before heading toward his study. Marco followed without being told.

The hospital should have been behind them by now. The patient was alive. That was what mattered. Nico’s interference would have to be dealt with later. Everything else could wait.

Yet somehow, Matteo’s thoughts returned to the same woman.

Camilla Carter.

He stopped outside the study. Marco nearly walked past him before noticing and turning back.

“What?” Marco asked.

Matteo turned slightly. His expression remained controlled, but something sharper sat beneath it. “Dr. Carter.”

Marco’s brow lifted. “The surgeon?”

“Yes.”

“What about her?” Marco asked, his brow raised slightly.

Matteo hesitated. It irritated him that he even had to think about the answer. The pause lasted only a second, but it was long enough for him to notice it.

“I want a background check.”

Marco studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. “On the doctor?”

Matteo’s expression hardened. “Did I stutter?”

“No.” Marco followed him into the study without another word of protest.

Matteo walked toward the drinks cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid caught the low light as he lifted it. He stared at it for a moment before taking a slow sip. The burn did nothing to settle the restlessness under his skin.

“There was something unusual about her,” Matteo said.

Marco leaned against the edge of the desk, arms loosely crossed. “Unusual? Really, Matteo?”

“She wasn’t afraid.” Matteo's mouth twitched. “She had a gun pointed at her head.”

“I noticed… we were there together,” Marco replied.

“And she still told you to get out of her way.” Matteo took another sip.

“She was doing her job.” Marco replied with a shrug.

“Maybe… maybe not,” Matteo replied.

Marco stared at him for another second. Then a faint, knowing smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Of course.”

Matteo’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Marco shrugged, the movement casual, but the amusement in his eyes remained.

Matteo looked away. His fingers tightened around the glass. The crystal pressed hard against his palm.

“Find out everything,” he said.

Marco’s expression became more serious. “Everything?”

“Yes.” Matteo’s voice was flat. “Family, education, friends. Everything.”

Marco pushed himself away from the desk. “And what exactly are we looking for?”

“Anything that doesn’t belong.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Doesn’t belong?”

Matteo looked toward the window, the dark stretch of the estate grounds barely visible beyond the glass. “She’s a doctor. She shouldn’t have been that calm.”

Marco considered that for a moment. “Maybe she’s simply good under pressure.”

“Maybe.”

But Matteo didn’t sound convinced. The word sat between them, thin and unconvincing even to his own ears.

Marco nodded. He watched Matteo for another moment but said nothing. A faint smile returned to his face, quieter this time.

“This is unusually thorough for a doctor,” Marco said.

Matteo’s stare could have frozen the room. “Just do what I asked you to.”

Marco nodded once. The amusement faded. “I’ll have it done for you.”

He turned to leave. The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.

Matteo was alone.

He should have felt satisfied. The question that had been bothering him would soon have an answer. A file would appear on his desk, and whatever oddity he had sensed in Camilla Carter would either be explained or dismissed.

But instead of relief, there was something else.

Something he didn’t want to name.

His eyes drifted toward the empty space in front of his desk. He remembered her standing there, shoulders squared, eyes steady, the faint scent of antiseptic still clinging to her scrubs. The defiance in her expression. The way she had refused to tremble. The way she had walked away from him without waiting for permission.

His mouth tightened.

“She’s just a doctor,” he said again.

This time, the words sounded less convincing.

And somewhere beneath the excuse, Matteo already knew one thing.

He wanted to know more about her.

Much more.

And he had no idea why.