Page 12 of The Doctor

“That’s not what I mean—”

“I understand. You’re uncomfortable talking about yourself, so you’re turning this on me.”

“You’re not here as my matchmaker. You’re here as my patient, and I’m your doctor. I want you to take care of yourself.”

“And I’m trying to make sure your needs are met.” The old man scooted toward the end of his chair. “I want to make sure you want for nothing. That there’s no possibility what happened to Fahrid could happen to you.”

I narrowed my eyes at the man.

Fahrid Ahmad had been one of D’Angelo’s lieutenants until last year. He’d been won over by our enemies, had passed off information to them, and when he was no longer needed they’d killed him in order to tie up loose ends.

But I wasn’t like Fahrid. My loyalty lay with the man who’d gone to war against my father’s murderers. The man who’d saved my life before giving me and my mother a chance to live.

Paulo D’Angelo helped us get back on our feet and set aside his own grief to make sure we were taken care of. He put me through school. He gave me my career.

My loyalty would never waver.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I have everything I need right here.”

Something niggled at the back of my brain, and though I swear I saw movement on the stairs over Cosimo’s shoulder, I refused to take a look. I stared back into his eyes, as if doing so could prove my loyalty was unshakable.

His lips flattened into a straight line, and he gave a quick nod of his head. “So be it.” Then he rose to his feet and shuffled toward the door without a backward glance.

Following after, I peeked up the stairwell while he had his back to me. “Remember what I said,” I told him, though even I wasn’t sure if I meant what I’d told him about his health or the state of my loyalty and love life.

He gave me a final look, one foot in my house and one hovering over the front step. “If anything should ever change, you come to me. I’ll take care of it.”

“Of course.” I shut the door behind him, not bothering to watch as he made his way down the front sidewalk to his car waiting at the curb.

“Everything okay?” Clara’s voice preceded her down the stairs, and my shoulders tensed before I turned, bracing to find her half-naked or worse. When I forced myself to turn, I was sure she’d fallen right into the “worse” category.

She was fully dressed, and she looked like an entirely different person.

Like her mother.

Like the high-class women who bowed down at that woman’s feet.

Clara looked years older than her age in high-waisted, wide-legged, white linen pants and a billowy, white silk tank top. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and she’d done her makeup to perfection.

My mouth turned to dust as my heart stuttered, then pounded out a hard beat in my chest. Every hair on my body rose as my skin tingled, my fingers itching to touch this woman who no longer looked like the young girl I’d always known.

For the briefest of moments, I considered giving in. Touching her. Holding her in my arms.

But I knew, that was the last thing I could do.

I’d pledged my life to the Syndicate.

I couldn’t have her, too.

5

Clara

My heels clacked sharply against the stamped pavement outside my parents’ house as I rushed from the wide double doors. Chloe popped out of the car, opening the rear door for me before jumping back in the front, yelling, “Go, go, go!” as I dove into the back seat. Sadie stomped on the gas, the tires spun and squealed, and she careened down the driveway as if a hellhound was on our tail.

“My God!” Chloe turned in her seat to look back at me. “Took you long enough.”

I righted myself, adjusting my dress over my legs and breasts before I drew my gaze to the front seat. “I swear, my mother has been clingy as hell since classes got out.”