Trapped: Bloody Rose

Love was far on Rose's mind as she settled in a chair... But then again, the devil was in the details, and she didn't know then that love was slowly but surely creeping up on her.

"Help! Somebody help!" Someone cried out, making her snap out of her reveries and spring into action at once, calmly but also efficiently.

Three men were helping steady a fourth one whose white shirt wasn't as impeccable as it should be. Admittedly, all four men looked roughened up, but moreso him. The man was holding a hand to his abdomen, seemingly to put pressure on a wound... not that it was doing much good. Indeed, if the blood was any indication, Rose could guess it was either due to a gunshot wound or multiple stab wounds.

She didn't mind the sight of blood nor the rough looks... She just knew she needed to help this man.

She was quick to point out to a bed where the three men helped him into... The man didn't even grunt, never mind saying a word of protest, even though he was conscious, and she briefly wondered what kind of tolerance for pain he had.

Rose paged the surgeon before anything else.

She was then about to inspect the wound when the man, pale and breathing with difficulty, still managed to shoot her a deep penetrating look as he asked, "Who are you?"

"You can call me Rose," she said in a soft tone of voice which was meant to reassure him. "I will be your nurse for the time being."

The man, who was in need of immediate medical attention, still grumbled, "Where's Leila?"

Rose tilted her head to the side in a quizzical manner, "Leila? She's not available at the moment."

"I don't want you touching me," he rasped in between pants.

Rose raised an eyebrow at him in mild disbelief, and then told him stubbornly, "Leila is not here, but I am not sure you can afford to be picky, sir. Let me help you."

The three men then shot her cautious looks before one of them nodded, seemingly in approval, to which the injured just averted his face. Rose assumed she was then allowed to do her job, and was soon inspecting the wound under the men's watchful gazes.

She didn't know who the bigshot was – and she didn't care who he was if she were to be honest – but she would rather someone didn't die on her watch, not if she could help it.

While she was doing her job, she almost thought he was losing consciousness, for there was no reaction from him whatsoever. She shot him a look of concern... He was still hanging on his consciousness. And yet, no grunt, no grimace, nothing to indicate he was in pain really, save for the way his eyes narrowed.

** ** **

One surgery and many hours later, the injured man laid in bed, looking pale, and still a little bit out of it – which was normal all things considered – when Rose came to check up on him.

Even though he wasn't admitted in the ward where she usually worked, Rose had been worried, and thus decided to check on the peculiar patient before the end of her shift.

He was resting as to be expected. She released a sigh of relief, and fought another sigh – of dismay this time around – as she recalled the way she had handled him. She had learnt halfway through her shift that he wasn't just a bigshot with bodyguards, but rather a mafia boss with underlings... Leave it to her to act defiantly! She just hoped he would understand it was for his own good.

Rose loved her job, and loved helping people, whereas his role in the world consisted of doing the opposite – getting rid of those he considered a nuisance.

Nevertheless, she was somehow fascinated by him, more than she would like, and more than she would care to admit. Truth be told, he had strikingly good looks, but she was sure they could spell the word danger in a heartbeat.

His men watched her as she went around the bed, cautious not to wake the man, and then proceeded to dab a wet cotton across his lips.

"What do you think you're doing?" The man himself asked in a hoarse tone of voice while opening one eye and then the other.

She realized with a startle that she shouldn't have let her inner meddlesome part win.

What was it to her if his lips looked dry? None of her business really!

Moreso, she knew she would have a hard time getting out of this mess, especially if his nurse were to check up on him at that moment.

"Your lips looked dry," she admitted sotto voce, doing her best not to blush as she said so.

He grunted dismissively, even as he kept a keen and curious gaze on her.

Silence stretched for a moment until she declared calmly, "I will be on my way now. Please rest well. Wishing you a speedy recovery."

He let out a noncommittal sound in reply, and she took that as her cue to leave. The man wasn't talkative to say the least, but she could understand that her presence wasn't wanted.

Before she could take a step away, however, he held onto her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

"Rose, was it?" He said, and she wondered why he sounded dubitative.

"Yes," she nodded at him, and his hold on her wrist tightened ever so slightly. "Rose as in short for Rosalina," she felt the need to explain.

"I see," he released her wrist, and while she felt compelled to rub it a little, she kept herself in check, not wanting to upset the mafia boss further. "The next time you touch me so casually, we'll have a problem."

Her breath hitched in her throat at the words which were spoken seemingly in his most blasé tone. Admittedly his chilly gaze on her was pure menace, pure danger... and she felt like she was getting weak in the knees.

"Do you want us to have a problem?" He raised an eyebrow at her in a demanding manner. His gaze, which was focused solely on her, seemed to make her question everything for a moment there. From her life choices to her earlier recklessness, everything seemed absurd.

Snapping out of it after a heartbeat, she shook her head negatively, her mouth dry, "Of course not, sir."

"You may leave now," he then told her dismissively, shifting his gaze to one of his men, who approached the bed at once.

How intense could he be? Rose wondered inwardly, as she tried to keep her heart from trying to beat its way out of her chest.

She didn't know how she managed to reach her beat up car, but she somehow did.

And when she rested her back against the seat, she released a sigh even as her eyes stung with unshed tears. She wasn't even sure what the tears were for.

He hadn't really threatened her, but the warning had been clear, and only a fool would believe he was just making chichat.

Rose was not supposed to touch him – end of story. Well, she would do even better than that, she wouldn't even go near him.

That would be safer for her.

What had prompted her to seek him out and check on him to begin with? She knew he was in good hands seeing as Dr Carlisle had been on duty that night...

She cursed under her breath in dismay, right before she put the car into motion.

Rose was resting, still exhausted from her tumultuous night shift, when she received a call from the head nurse.

For a moment there, she wondered what could possibly be wrong – the head nurse never called her – before taking the call, "Hello Elizabeth."

"Hello Rose," the older woman greeted her in a soft tone of voice, "how have you been?"

"I'm good. Thanks," Rose tried not to show how unsettled she was by the call or how curious she was.

"Can you come to the clinic to cover today's night shift?" The woman then asked, straight to the point.

"Is something wrong?" Rose asked in a concerned tone. If something had happened to one of her fellow nurses, or they had an emergency, they usually called themselves first.

"Leila has a sprained ankle and cannot attend to Mr Bianchi," Elizabeth explained on a discreet sigh.

"Mr Bianchi?" Rose echoed after her, paling ever so slightly at the memory of the peculiar and unpleasant patient.

"Yes, Roman Bianchi specifically asked for you once he learnt that Leila could not come," Elizabeth declared at once.

Rose was taken aback for a moment there, and then wondered whether the man was vindictive or something. Indeed, she had sworn to herself not to go near him again, and there he was making her go back on her word.

"He refused to be touched by the day nurse, and even drove a couple of others running with tears in their eyes."

The confession didn't surprise Rose. The man wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine.

"Fine," Rose conceded, nodding even though her superior couldn't see her.

A troublesome patient such as Roman Bianchi was bound to make more problems for her, and her colleagues if he didn't get what he wanted, and that was what prompted Rose to accept... Admittedly, she felt like Elizabeth wouldn't accept a no for an answer either.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said in a gratitude-filled tone of voice.

"Anytime," Rose answered absent-mindedly, and they soon ended the call.

Despite being unsettled and different shades of surprised, Rose decided to take a nap so she would be able to face the man and attend to him.

Sleep was fitful, and she dreamt of icy blue eyes following her everywhere, and she running from them like the plague...

When she woke up, she held a hand to her forehead, and then let out miserably, "Already haunting me, Mr Bianchi? The shift hasn't even started yet."

She quickly made some mac and cheese, and ate in haste, before hitting the shower.

** ** ** ** **

The moment Rose reached the clinic, she crossed paths with Zina, whoms she greeted with a smile, and the latter hugged her at once.

Zina wasn't a hugger.

"It is so good to see you, Rose. We need you to deal with Mr Bianchi, and we'll take care of all the other patients," she told her softly.

"Are you sure?" Rose raised an eyebrow at her. "Surely the added workload is going to be a bit much?"

Indeed, usually, each nurse handled 3 to 4 patients...

"We don't mind," Zina told her, looking her straight in the eyes, and another nurse, Catherine, nodded at once in agreement.

"Okay, sure," Rose let out, appreciating the gesture of goodwill in more ways than one. She could do without the added pressure. Roman Bianchi was enough trouble all on his own.

Rose changed into her scrubs, and was soon heading to room 77 where the man was presumably resting. The men saw her first, and one of them nodded at her, allowing her in.

She found the mafia boss sitting on the bed, a fine layer of sweat covering his forehead, no doubt because of the pressure applied to the wound which had yet to heal.

He didn't even spare her a glance, and continued struggling with the bed sheets.

"Lay down, Mr Bianchi," she let out softly, "I'll handle the sheets."

"I can take care of it," he retorted in a clipped tone of voice, shooting her a look, before saying, "You're late."

"I didn't mean to make you wait, Mr Bianchi, but the night shift starts at 6 pm," she let out in a weary tone, before declaring, "I am going to touch you."

And with that, she put a hand on his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to lay down. He thankfully obliged despite the look of displeasure on his face.

She understood at once why he was trying to remove the sheets. The man was burning up.

She looked at his chart, and was horrified to see the mention "NC" even in front of the medications. She could understand his desire to not be touched, and thus the emptiness next to the blood pressure, the termperature and the pulse... But surely, even he knew that being non-compliant with the medication would only slow his recovery.

"Mr Bianchi, do you have a death wish perhaps?" She asked in earnest.

"Pardon?" He raised an eyebrow, no doubt not used to the question being directed at him.

"You did not take your meds," she let out, eyes narrowing at him as she stubbornly refused to look away from his intense blue eyes.

"I refused to be treated by those fickle frivolous nurses," he drawled, shrugging as he did so.

"You have to understand that this stubbornness of yours could possibly ruin you," she told him in a clipped tone of voice.

"Well, you're here to prevent that, aren't you?" He retorted flippantly.

Rose had to bite on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying something she might regret. The good looking mafia boss was absolutely infuriating, and he didn't seem to care that her rest was disrupted by his wishes.

Of course he doesn't care. Who do you take him for? A part of her reasoned.

"You'll have to endure being touched, Mr Bianchi," Rose said seriously after releasing a heavy sigh.

He nodded wordlessly at her, and she shot into action at once. She took his temperature which confirmed that he was indeed burning up. His blood pressure was normal but his pulse was accelerated – which was to be expected considering his temperature.

She then inspected his wound, making sure it hadn't reopened because of his earlier struggle with the sheets – and it thankfully hadn't.

He put up with her silently despite the grimace on his face... She didn't know what his deal was, but she didn't want his attitude to deter her from doing her job.

"What now?" He asked once she was done.

"Now I will have to find a good vein for your pain meds at least," she declared matter-of-factly. "As for the antibiotics, you are to take one pill per meal."

"Will I keep a clear head?" He asked at once.

"Yes, naturally," she nodded at him.

He nodded at her, giving her consent, and she went on doing her job, under his watchful gaze.

This was Rose's first time meeting a patient so stubborn, so proud, and oh so dangerously handsome. Indeed, as infuriating as he was, she could admit that he was drop-dead gorgeous.

Be still, my heart, she told herself once she caught him smirking at something he saw on his phone.

Patients were off limits, and Roman Bianchi was no exception.

Roman Bianchi was a mafia boss whom very few would be daring enough – or suicidal enough – to mess with. He lived by a few rules, among which harming children was forbidden, because even his chaotic life could use some structure.

And at the moment, Roman wasn't pleased to be on bedrest to say the least. He needed to hunt the rat who dared to betray him. This betrayal made him lose money, but also facilitated an attempt on his life – and made him lose 3 of his men.

Truth be told, he already had someone in mind, whom he had suspected of being a bit too well-off as of late... He just hadn't had the time to investigate the man at leisure.

Roman watched as the stubborn and fiery nurse attended to him. Truth be told, Rosalina was a beautiful name for a beautiful woman, and he was intrigued by her dedication to her work. It seemed like her desire to help him on the first day was genuine, since she didn't know who he was then. She didn't fear him then, and didn't fear him now... And that could prove to be fatal if she were to tempt the devil within him.

She was almost done with her work when he received a full background check on her, which was very short, as to be expected: Rosalina Marcels, 24 years old, full-time nurse. No siblings to speak of, estranged mother and deceased father. Financially struggling because of a debt her father left behind. Clean record.

As he read the part about her financial struggles, Roman could only smirk ever so slightly. He would have to bet on this. This forced bedrest was not doing him any good, and he couldn't wait to be home already.

"Rose," he drawled, to which her gaze shifted to him at once. Her deep chocolate brown eyes drew him in like no eyes ever did before, and it was almost unsettling.

The naive woman shouldn't be so attractive.

"Yes, Mr Bianchi?" She responded after a beat.

"I cannot afford to remain at the clinic," he said, and she frowned ever so slightly. He explained after a beat, "Time is far too precious, you see."

"I understand," she nodded at him, despite giving him the stink eye. It seemed like she didn't like what she heard. "What do you have in mind?"

How fascinating! She truly had guts.

"I will get discharged by tomorrow morning, and you're going to attend to me at the villa," he declared matter-of-factly.

"I beg your pardon?" She all but choked on the words, her eyes bulging almost comically.

"Leila is unable to attend to me," he sighed dramatically, wishing she would give in without making too much of a fuss.

"But surely that is no reason to uproot me from here, Mr Bianchi?" Rose objected in a dejected albeit firm tone of voice.

"You're not getting fired. You'll just be granted 10 exceptional days off so you could take care of me," he said matter-of-factly.

"I'm going to need a moment to think about it," she declared after a moment, and rose to her feet, marching out of his VIP room.

** ** ** ** **

Rose needed some fresh air, and would have loved to go on a walk, but that was not exactly an option at the moment. She was still on shift and needed to remain inside the clinic.

She decided to hit the cafetaria and have a juice, in the hopes that the sweetness would alleviate the bitterness she felt.

Rose felt like she was subjected to Roman Bianchi's whims, all because she had been stubborn when she first met him. And he was seemingly serious about his offer – about her attending to him for the next 10 days.

The moment she reached the cafetaria, Zina was seemingly ready to head up.

"How is it going?" Her friend asked with a small smile.

"It could be better," she shrugged, but then felt compelled to add, "it could be worse too. I am not complaining."

Zina's smile broadened, and she soon told her in a hushed tone of voice, "I would have honestly been delighted to attend to Mr grumpy, if only he had been less opposed to having someone touch him."

Rose giggled at that, unable to help herself, even as she shook her head at Zina in disbelief. She could understand where this came from, for the man looked like a Greek god... but that was all there was to him – looks and danger.

Zina then gave her a heartfelt thumbs up and said, "You got this, sister."

Rose nodded at her and let out a simple "Thank you."

And with that, Zina left Rose to her tumultuous thoughts. Soon, with her juice in hand, she sat at a table, and began to scroll down her contact list. Before long, she was calling Elizabeth, the head nurse.

"Hello Elizabeth," she greeted her in a soft voice. "I am sorry to call you this late."

"Hello Rose," the older woman greeted her back. "Don't worry about it. What's up? Is something wrong with Mr Bianchi?"

Naturally, the head nurse's first concern was the stubborn and insufferable patient.

"He declared earlier that he's getting discharged tomorrow, and that I am leaving with him," Rose blurted out what worried her the most without so much as a preamble.

The woman's gasp was barely audible before she asked, "What were his exact words?"

"He said I wasn't getting fired, but getting 10 exceptional days off to take care of him at the villa," Rose let out in a somewhat angry tone of voice.

Elizabeth let out a stunned "Oh" at that point.

"Yeah, oh! Big oh!" Rose quipped, rolling her eyes seeing as she hated the woman's indifferent reaction.

"I don't know a lot about the man, but I know he's loaded," Elizabeth tried to make her see the situation in a new light.

"Elizabeth, be reasonable," Rose bit out. "Tell me there's some way out of this mess."

"He's dangerously loaded – pun intended, woman," she then told her in earnest. "You don't want to cross him. Besides, the clinic is still up and running thanks to the money he offers each semester to keep it afloat. They will accept his deal, no doubt about that."

Rose sighed and face-palmed at the same time.

"I know this isn't ideal, Rose," she went on. "But we cannot afford to upset him."

Indeed, it was obvious they couldn't. Considering they had called her on her day off – right after a night shift – with no shame, and asked her to cover another night shift, all to take care of their precious mafia boss, it was obvious that they wouldn't bat an eye at the deal he offered her.

"Consider yourself lucky he told you in advance," Elizabeth said in a soft voice.

"Lucky, huh?" Rose echoed after her. "Please don't make me laugh."

"How about you call me back when you've thought it through, and you're no longer upset?" Elizabeth offered in a kind motherly tone of voice.

"I will do that," Rose sighed... and soon the line went dead.

Rose drank her apple juice, but the sweetness did nothing to the tightness she felt in her chest.