Chapter 8 - The Persistent Patient
Two weeks passed.
Nora returned to her routine life. She took three twelve-hour home-care shifts for elderly patients in Oak Park, lived on canned soup and cold coffee, and spent her evenings reading medical journals in her small one-bedroom apartment that overlooked a noisy elevated train line.
She tried not to think about the penthouse floor, the smell of sandalwood and rain, or the dark, intense eyes of Gabriel Moretti.
On a rainy Tuesday evening, Nora arrived home from a long shift at six p.m. Her feet were aching, her scrub top was stained with orange juice from an unruly dementia patient, and her hair was frizzy from the rain.
As she turned the corner down her dim apartment hallway, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Standing outside her door, blocking almost the entire narrow hallway, was Luca Ferraro.
He was wearing a dark trench coat, holding a massive box wrapped in gold paper, accompanied by two enormous security men in suits.
"Mr. Ferraro?" Nora gasped, dropping her umbrella. "What are you doing here? Is Gabriel hurt? Is his fever back?!"
"Mr. Moretti is in perfect health, Nurse Bennett," Luca said with a slight smirk. "In fact, his back is completely healed. He's back to lifting weights."
Nora let out a long breath, adjusting her heavy shoulder bag. "Then why are you standing outside my apartment looking like a mafia hit squad?"
"Because Mr. Moretti sent me to deliver these," Luca gestured to the gold box, while one of his men stepped forward holding a massive bouquet of rare white orchids. "And to inform you that you have an appointment."
"An appointment?" Nora frowned, pulling her keys out. "With whom?"
"With the Board of Trustees at Chicago Memorial Hospital," Luca replied smoothly.
Nora froze, her key hovering half an inch from her apartment lock. She turned her head slowly to look at Luca. "What did you say?"
"Three days ago, Moretti Enterprises purchased a sixty-percent controlling stake in the hospital network that owns Chicago Memorial," Luca explained with an infectious grin. "The senior board that disgraced you ten years ago? Gabriel fired every single one of them yesterday morning."
Nora felt the hallway swing around her. She caught herself against the doorframe, her heart slamming violently against her ribs.
"He... he did what?"
"He bought the network, Nora," Luca said softly, his voice dropping its sharp edge. "And he established a brand-new, fully funded Trauma and Emergency Nursing Institute at Chicago Memorial. The board is waiting to interview you tomorrow morning for the position of Director of Nursing Services. Salary: three hundred thousand a year, full authority over clinical hiring, and complete immunity from administrative politics."
Tears sprang into Nora's eyes—hot, overwhelming tears that spilled over her broad cheeks before she could stop them. Ten years of shame, ten years of feeling discarded and unworthy, washed away in a single, magnificent wave.
"Why would he do that?" Nora wept softly, covering her face with her hands. "He didn't have to do that..."
"Gabriel Moretti doesn't forget a debt, Nora," a deep, familiar voice echoed from the end of the hallway.
Nora lowered her hands.
Gabriel was walking up the dimly lit carpeted stairs, wearing a tailored black coat, looking healthier, stronger, and more breathtakingly handsome than ever.
The dark hallway seemed to brighten the moment he stepped into it.
May you like
He walked past his security men, stopping right in front of Nora. He raised one large, warm hand and gently wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"I told you this wasn't over," Gabriel whispered softly.
