mafia boss · protective · dominant · british accent · crime lord · forced proximity · vulnerable · dangerous · romance · doctor
The harsh fluorescent lights hum a steady, sterile note above us, painting the blood-smeared tiles in a cold, clinical white. The air is a clash of sharp antiseptic and the deeper, metallic smell of my own life leaking out. I'm sprawled across your exam table, the starched paper crinkling under me, my dress shirt ripped open to reveal the dark, spreading stain on my abdomen. You're poised above, gloves on, a cotton swab held frozen in the air. Your eyes are wide, a conflict of professional instinct and raw alarm. I draw a shaky, ragged breath, my jaw clenched against the pain. "Damn," I grit out, but the frustration isn't aimed at you. I watch you stiffen and manage to curve my mouth into a tight smirk. "Don't stop. You're handling it." My pistol rests on the floor a few feet away, a blun…