Chapter 2 Night Out

The check-up wrapped up without much fuss - well, as little fuss as you could expect from Gabriele Russo. At nearly 75, the man was still intimidating, still sharp. There was no softness to him, no sign of age dimming the sheer force of his presence. His gaze alone could cut through steel - something his words always did. But with me, there was something else - not quite warmth, but something close. A kind of respect, maybe.

"How much longer must I suffer this... imprisonment?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. "Bed rest, medications - I am treated like an invalid."

I didn't even glance up from my notes. "Maybe if you actually follow my orders, you wouldn't feel like one."

He huffed. "I hate these drugs. They make me tired. Weak. I sleep too much. I have no appetite. I feel like an old man."

"You are an old man," I said flatly.

He shot me a look that would've made lesser people crumble. I just raised a brow in return.

"Remind me why I asked for your expertise on my case," he muttered.

"Because I'm one of the best in this hospital, and I might be the only one that can stand near you without shivering in fear," I replied without missing a beat.

For a moment, there was silence - then the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "So you keep telling me."

When the exam wrapped up, I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look. "You're stable. But I want you back next week. No excuses."

He tilted his head, studying me with that sharp, assessing gaze. "And if I refuse?"

"Well, I'm sure there's more than enough room for another body at the morgue" I said coolly, handing him his walking stick.

That earned a low, amused chuckle. "You have courage, Dottoressa. I like that."

I grinned. "How lucky for me to be liked by the one and only Don Russo" "Ah ah. That wasn't what I said" "Wasn't it?"

He shook his head in amusement. "Endeavour to come for your appointment next week. It's very crucial, Mr. Russo"

He left with a slight nod, and I finally let out a slow breath once the door shut behind him. Gabriele Russo was not a man you relaxed around, even when you were on good terms.

Back in my office, I barely had time to sit before my phone buzzed.

Zara: Let's go out tonight. You need to loosen up.

Me: No.

Zara: YES. You work too much. Come on. One night. A couple of drinks. You won't die.

Me: I don't even like drinking.

Zara: I'll order you something fruity and pretty. You won't even taste the alcohol.

Me: No. I'm spending my night in my bed. With my daughter. You're welcome to join me.

Zara: Pleaseeeeee 🥺

I stared at the screen, already knowing I would regret this.

Me: Fine.

Zara: YES. Be ready by 9. Wear something slutty.

-

Naturally, I would never agree to something like that. But for some reason, I felt a little urge to go and loosen up for the night.

The club was one of those places that screamed exclusivity. Velvet ropes, sleek black cars, the kind of crowd that looked like they belonged on magazine covers. Even standing outside, you could feel the energy - the pulse of the music, the low thrum of laughter and conversation spilling out into the night.

"See?" Zara grinned, tugging me toward the entrance. "Can you already feel the energy rushing through you?"

I shot her a look. "We haven't even gotten inside yet."

But she was undeterred, as always, flashing her brightest smile at the bouncer - and just like that, we were in.

The music hit first, a low, steady beat that you felt in your chest more than you heard. The lights were low and moody, sweeping across the crowd in flashes of color. It was sleek and opulent, and everything about it was designed to make you feel like you were somewhere important.

I wasn't sure how to feel towards it.

"Drinks first," Zara announced, leading the way to the bar. She looked perfectly at home here - and if I was being honest, she looked stunning. But then, it's Zara we're talking about.

I let her order without protest, and a moment later, she handed me something bright and colorful, garnished with fruit and a little umbrella.

"Fruity" she said, lifting her glass. "I'll bet my shoes this tastes far better than anything you've ever tasted before"

I took a cautious sip. She wasn't wrong.

"See?" She grinned.

I arched a brow.

"It's fine I guess," I said as I gestured for the bartender to refill my glass.

But I had to admit - there was something about the atmosphere, the energy of the place, that made it easy to let go. The music, the laughter, the way Zara beamed with excitement. For once, I decided to just... go with it.

"How's your broker boyfriend?" "Friends!" she fired. "He's fine. He's out of the city for some business and won't be back until Tuesday or something. How's work at the hospital, cutting people open? How's Alina's dad?"

I downed the rest of the drink. It burned my throat as it made its way down, but it was weirdly addictive.

"Still a cheating bastard," I said coolly, setting the glass down. "But at least he's a quiet one."

Zara winced. "You know, most people use something called a 'divorce'."

"Most people don't have my priorities as high as I do," I replied, signaling the bartender for another drink. "Alina comes first. Always."

Before Zara could respond, two men approached - the kind of men who clearly thought they were far more charming than they actually were.

"Evening, ladies," one of them said, his voice smooth and practiced. His eyes slid over us, lingering just a second too long on me before drifting to Zara. "You look like you could use some company."

Zara raised a brow, amused. "And what makes you think we're lacking?"

The man grinned, undeterred. "Because no one should leave women this stunning alone." His friend - the taller one, with salt and pepper hair, an ugly color if you ask me- had his attention locked on Zara. "Dance with me?"

Zara hesitated, glancing at me like she always did when she wanted permission.

I waved a hand, already tired of the interaction. "Go. Have fun."

Her face lit up. "Don't wait up!" she called, already being tugged toward the dance floor, and just like that, I was left alone with the other one.

Lucky me.