Ilya's POV

It's been three days since I left Cassia at her house. Three days I've been trying to find the whereabouts of the shipment that the Italians stole from me. Everyday that passes means the merchandise is distributed more and more, the guns taken out of crates and used or sold. Meaning gone with the fucking wind.

I had Anthony track the movements of the Italian boss Matteo Moretti so that we could ambush two of their warehouses that I know he likes to operate out of. They turned out to be empty but I still burned the buildings to the ground because they were still under his name even though he had cleared them in anticipation.

No matter how good Anthony is, he couldn't find any ties to new places Moretti would use to store the guns. Every minute passing meant it was becoming more unlikely for me to recover the guns. And it meant that Matteo was making money off of the guns I spent months buttering up the yakuza to trade. The thought of lining up the pockets of that fettuccine addicted tomato loving bastard made my trigger happy finger twitch.

Taking out my anger on Val ,who is currently blocking my oncoming punches with his raised forearms is not healthy way to cope, I know that but I still can't muster up enough crap to care. I take two light steps back on the balls of my feet giving Val some space to breathe, giving a pause for the sparring we were doing in the run down basement we had converted for a gym for the members. I know first hand how much aggression a bratva member can pack and this place gives them the option to let out some of the steam without giving me problems to deal with in the streets. If they need a couple of sandbags to punch or weights to lift to not go stirring up trouble with other mafias territories, then I'd be the first one to tie their gym shoes.

Pierre was leaning against the ropes of the boxing ring with a lazy smile on his face, his green eyes alight with mirth. The bastard knew how angry I was and was probably getting a kick out of it. Especially since Valdos was the one on the receiving end of my punches. Jokes on him because after I was done with Valdos, he was up.

Valdos lowers his arms and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. His shaved off head glinting with all the sweat from exertion under the fluorescent lighting. The slightly faded black tattoos on the left side of his pectoral and up the side of his neck looks like it's moving under the light. He has a bear paw print right on his chest that I know he had it done when he was in prison along with different add-ons along the years. Most of the men that are a part of my bratva have seen the inside of a cold russian prison before ending up in U.S. soil.

Val is bulkier than me but that just makes him a bigger target. His cheek is already supporting a nice bruise from a particularly bad round house kick I delivered. I focus on my laboured breathing to get it under control. The burn in my lungs fuelling my sour mood instead of diminishing it.

"You know you can just fuck out the anger like the rest of us right?" Pierre says with a cigarette between his fingers and blowing off smoke. There is nothing up to code in the building so I'm not worried about the fire alarm going off from the smoke. "A good lay and poof," he blows a ring of smoke to accentuate his point. "You're as happy as a leprechaun with a pot of gold." He runs a hand through his mop of dirty blond hair and gives a knowing smirk as he continues leaning against the ropes with his arms draped.

"Is that where all of your ruble goes?" Anthony cuts from across the wide room where he's laying in to a sand bag brutally with one of the new recruits holding the bag in place, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else than there.

Pierre's laugh cuts the air like Anthony has just complimented him. "So what if I want to spoil a girl or two?" He shrugs with that confident smirk in place. A crease forms between his brows as he leans in Anthony's direction and inhales a smoke from his cigarette. Then he points it in Anthony's direction, "How's the wife by the way?" His eyes glint with mischief making me want to smack him in the head. Pierre takes great delight in poking where he shouldn't be poking.

"Do you want me to break your nose?" Anthony's cold response comes from across the room as he keeps his eyes on the bag and relentlessly punches it.

Pierre raises his hands up in mock surrender with the cigarette held between his lips. "Just saying, if you spent half as much money on the missus as I did on any of my girls, she wouldn't be so angry with you all the time."

All Anthony gives in reply is a rough grunt, which I'm not sure is from his kick or the comment. I walk to the side to grab my discarded shirt and raise it up to wipe the sweat off my face. It comes away a bit bloodied, and i feel the sting of a cut across my cheek and bleeding knuckles. We don't bother using gloves, only works to stifle the anger.

"You all need a good fuck." Pierre says, the jovial bastard seemingly rounding up energy from the collective misery of the room.

Val crouches down and exits between the ropes, leaving the ring but I stay in place. I still itch to rid of this restless energy in me and I'm not nearly close enough to being done.

"I would love to have a go with that doctor." Yuri's voice reaches me, making my shoulders tense. "The way her cold hands felt on my body..." The love sick cousin of mine makes a sound between a sigh and a grunt as he closes his eyes. "And that face... belongs to an angel. What I wouldn't give to have those lips-"

"You're 22." I snap cutting his daydream off. "You're closer to legal drinking age than to her age." I ground out, my fingers itching to wring out the neck of one of my closest relatives. Yuri just gives me that boyish smile as he keeps lifting his dumbbell.

"You never know, women like a young face." He winks those blue eyes at me. I close my eyes and loosen a breath in an attempt to control my patience. I knew I should've just let him bleed out in my guest bedroom.

"Do you think she gives sponge baths too? Is that part of her duties in a hospital?" Yuri asks to no one in particular.

"Yuri." I snap, my voice low and my glare cutting across the room. "In the ring now." I point to the ground and watch in satisfaction as he looks nervous setting aside the dumbbell. Pierre snickers from the side with a knowing look, like he knows exactly why I'm about to give Yuri a beating.

"Take it easy on the lad, he's young. Can't help being horny all the time." Pierre chuckles from the side.

"Yeah? What's your excuse?" I ask without sparing him a glance. Val makes a coughing noise to cover up for his laugh and Pierre just continues smirking, the confident expression not even wavering the tiniest bits, like he's proud of the direction his genitals always seem to be leading him to.

He says something in return but I pay him no heed, my mind only stoking my anger as I remember Yuri getting a hard on with Cassia kneeling before him. And I only become angrier when I admit that I'm the one who brought her there to take care of him, despite knowing what a horny teenager he is.

Yuri steps into the ring and gives me a tentative smile, his boyish charm peeking through his light blond hair. His shoulder is still wrapped up in bandages as his thigh is too under those sweatpants I'm sure. A good cousin would avoid his recent injuries. A great one, on the other hand, would exploit them just to show how easily he could be taken down if he doesn't keep his guard up. And I've always prided myself in being a family man.

Cassia's POV

"You know I love you right?" I say as I look down at the sweet face of the nurse sitting down in front of me behind the desk. Grace has her brown hair in two braids cascading across her shoulders with sparkly cherry hair ties at the end. Her lovely face breaks up into a smile when she looks up from a patient folder and sees me. Her warm eyes unguarded and genuine with excitement.

"Hi Cass! How are you?" She greets me with the sweetest smile in the whole hospital.

"Much better now that I have seen my favourite nurse." I wink down at her and watch as her cheeks gain a light pink colour.

A slight scoff is heard from the side and I turn my head to see the other ER nurse on call tonight. Isla gives me an exasperated look like my antics are the last thing she wants to be dealing in her forties and at 2 am in the emergency room.

I bite down on my bottom lip and step to stand in front of the motherly Spanish lady I've come to adore in the past two years I've been here. "You don't need to be jealous Isla." I say as I lean across the station, looking at the serious expression etched into the lady with fewer gray hairs than her occupation or age should have given her. "I love you too. You're just married and I don't go for married women." I jest as I lean with my elbow. Isla looks up at me from under her lashes. "But make sure to give me a call if you and Rodriguez ever get a divorce."

I smile at her and she just rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to the papers but not before muttering under her breath, "Peor coqueteo en el hospital." (Worst flirt in the hospital)

"Ya se." (I know) I say while giving Isla my biggest smile. She just shakes her head.

"Don't worry you're my favourite doctor Cass!" Grace pipes up from her seat as she continues filling in the hourly chart for an inpatient.

"Thank you Gracie, I am honoured." I say while I walk around the desk and plop down in front of one of the empty computers and sign in to the hospital database. "Have you seen the treatment I placed in for the bed number 7?" I ask.

"Yeah was just about to get up and administer it." Grace says just as another nurse roles in with a tray in his hands. Sebastian has a full get up of disposable mask, gloves and gown as he sets the medicine tray down to the nurses station and rips the gown off his chest, taking off the gloves with it.

"I swear if I never see a kid puking out green soldier toys, it's too soon." He says as he plops down on the chair beside me.

"I hear that." Says Gracie as she types like a madwoman on the keyboard.

"So I take it Diana is going to be in a foul mood?" I ask as I turn to Seb. But before he can reply, I hear footsteps and my friend's form covered in the same gown, mask and gloves combination comes around the corner. She rips the gown away and deposits them into the trash before aggressively punching the hand sanitiser on the wall and rubbing her hands. Her blonde hair is tied up in a bun but strands are sticking out in all directions.

"Why do toy companies insist on manufacturing swallowable pieces?" She asks to no one in particular. Then she raises up her finger like she has an idea. "Better yet, why do parents buy them for their very suicide inclined kids?" She asks huffing out her cheeks in anger, blowing away a strand of hair from her blue eyes.

I try to keep a straight face but she just looks too serious standing there with her green scrubs and hands on her hips, looking like she's been through hell. I crack a smile unable to hold back my amusement. Diana's eyes snap to me and squint. "You." She says menacingly pointing her index finger at me.

"Me?" I ask innocently, trying to make my eyes as big and gullible as they can go.

"Don't me, me. You knew what you were stranding me with before running off to an anaphylactic reaction. I just spent the last hour seeing fish sticks and toy soldiers come out of a kid while her mom kept mauling me to save her baby." She says as she pulls up an empty rolling stool beside me and I just give up trying to hold in my laugh as I lay my head down on the table on my forearm and laugh while my shoulders are shaking.

"I swear this is the last time I'm having a shift with you." Diana says as she crosses her arms across her chest and pouts her pretty pink lips. I wipe the corner of my eye and give a pout back to Diana.

"You know you'd miss me. And who else would you have as your fellow doctor in the ER? Adam?" I ask as I scoff. "You know you can't stand him. You're stuck with me." I say as I flash a smile in my friend's direction. She just grumbles in response.

"You're taking rest of the calls tonight I don't care." She says petulantly. I pat her arm to appease her. "Sebastian can vouch for me, that was enough puke for one shift."

Sebastian's back is turned as he sits on the other side of the nurses station but his voice is clear as he says, "Yes. Yes it was." He agrees solemnly.

Right then the automatic doors of the ER opens and in walks a man clad in a suit. Not just any man I realise as I do a double take and see the black silky hair and piercing blue eyes. It's been three days since I've last seen Ilya but he still takes my breath away like the first time I've seen him.

His eyes lock on me across the nurses station and he starts walking towards me with intent. Diana leans in to me from my side whispering in my ear. "I changed my mind, I can take one more call before I close down for the shift." She says.

I would have responded to her if I wasn't rooted in my seat from how handsome the man walking towards me is. I don't have the right vocabulary, nor am I sure I remember enough words to say coherent things as Ilya comes to a stop before the desk and looks down at me.

"Hello Dr. Whitaker." He says in his deep russian accent that makes me want to melt in my spot. It's two am, nearly half way into my night shift and way too early to be having a loss of control over my neurons but I might just have had a spontaneous stroke and have lost control over my tongue because the time I've spent these past three days dreaming about him have not done any justice to him.

Diana elbows me, hard, in the ribs and I hiss as I turn to her to ask her what her problem is but she just not so subtly points her head in Ilya's direction and makes a weird eye motion. When I just stare confused at her, she sighs and turns to Ilya who is watching us with a slight tilt to his mouth. Diana extends her hand towards Ilya and says. "Hello I'm Doctor Diana Roberts." She says as she tries to smooth down her hair in to a more presentable state.

Ilya gives her a small smile as he takes her hand but his eyes are still on me, keeping me in place. "Nice to meet you Dr. Roberts." He says. Then he drops her hand and puts his in his pockets, casually leaning back as he stands there looking at me, like he expects me to do something. When I still don't speak up, he leans forward across the desk and whispers like he's sharing a secret. "I don't know how hospitals work but I think you're supposed to take me to the back and treat me."

That seems to snap me out of my stupor as I jump to my feet and the chair I was sitting on rolls away. "Yes, of course." I say quickly and immediately want to smack myself in the face. Why am I acting like an awkward teenager right now? Just because I've relived his strong arms carrying me to bed and the feel of his hands on my skin for a thousand times doesn't mean I should be blubbering like a fish out of water. I walk to the side of the desk and motion to the side. "Follow me." I say before I turn around and squeeze my eyes shut, willing my brain to work properly around this devastatingly handsome man.

I don't turn to look around as I walk to one of the triage rooms and step in. I walk over to the examination table and pat the seat. "Take a seat right here." I say as I go to the side to pick up a manuel blood pressure cuff. My body working on autopilot more than making any conscious choices. I hear the soft click of the door closing and a small shiver descends my spine at the small noise. I hear a rustle of clothing and then the rubber of the exam table.

When I'm sure I'm not going to have a stupid expression on my face, I turn around to face Ilya. Nothing could prepare me to see Ilya with his jacket off and sitting on the exam table in his white dress shirt. The exam table seems so small in comparison to the tall man sitting on it, the whole room seems smaller in his presence, like he has the gravitational pull of a planet, sucking all the air in orbit.

I step up to him, averting my eyes as I hold the cuff in my hands. "Could you roll up your sleeve Mr. Mironov?" I ask.

I watch as he unbuttons the cuff of his dress shirt and starts rolling up the sleeve to his elbow. "Ilya." He corrects me in his rough voice.

"Well, Ilya." I say as I finally gather up enough courage to raise my eyes to his blue ones. "What brings you to the ER tonight?" I ask.

I gingerly take his hand, the feel of his rough palm sending tingles through my arm as I put the pressure cuff through his arm and pull it up to his elbow. The veins visible on his forearm flex as I fasten the cuff in place.

"You." He simply says as he looks down at me, watching my movements closely. His response makes my heart flutter but I try not to have it show on my face as I take my stethoscope from around my neck and place it under the green cloth of the cuff. I inflate the cuff and then start listening to his heart beat as I deflate it. When I read his systolic and diastolic with in range, I take off the cuff and place the stethoscope around my neck again. I'm pretty sure my heart is beating more than his right now.

Just as I'm taking off the cuff, I see the back of Ilya's hands. His knuckles are bloodied and bruised. I look up to his face trying to determine where else he's hurt. He also has a tiny cut on his cheek but it has already scabbed over so I'm not worried. I walk over to the crash cart and open a drawer to pull a numbing cream with two gloves. Then I walk over again to stand between his open legs as I put on the gloves and pick up the cream. Capping it off, I push some to my finger before setting it aside. "Give me your hand." I say as I extend my left one.

He puts it inside my gloved one without a word and I start to spread the ointment around the cuts in on his knuckles.

"Got in to a fight?" I ask absentmindedly as I keep my gaze locked on the work on hand.

"Just working out some anger." He says.

"Want to talk about it?" I ask as I chance a quick glance in his direction. My eyes get snagged on his lips for a second too long before I have to drag them away. His cologne mixed with something manly like shaving cream wraps around my senses and mixes with my senses. I have to stop myself from swaying in his direction.

"It's work related." He simply says and I look up as I rub my thumb across his knuckles. Even with the rubber barrier of the glove between our hands, I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. The small gesture feels intimate as I look up in to his eyes. My breath catches as I notice how close we really are. I can see how his eyes actually have little gold specks in them around the pupils and I can't tear my gaze away.

"Should I prepare myself to have more house calls for gunshot wounds?" I ask in a quiet voice. My words bring out a smile on Ilya's lips and he lowers his right hand as I pick up his left one. I start rubbing ointment on his other set of knuckles as he chuckles and it's like a low chime with in my belly, giving me delicious satisfaction in getting to hear it.

"Probably." He says honestly as he still smiles at me, the full charm of this man with his smile is blinding so I shake my head and look down not realising I'm smiling in return.

Finished with putting on the cream, I take off the gloves and go to step away but Ilya stops me with a hand on my elbow. I stop breathing at the gentle contact, his eyes roaming my face as I stand there before him.

His right hand gently holds my chin and tips it up to look directly to his face. His cool minty breath fans over my cheeks as he says, "I meant what I said when I told you I want to be more than your friend milaya."

My eyes flutter as the russian endearment that has haunted my dreams for the past few days falls from his lips. If I can just will his hands to trail down across my neck and hold me as he captures my lips—

The door to the triage opens and I jump back at the sudden intrusion as I stand there looking at the door where Diana is standing. "Cass, dispatch said there is a car crash coming in five minutes, multiple wounded. All hands on deck." She says and then she's gone.

I will my heart to reach its normal levels as I walk to the door. Just as I'm about to leave, I turn around and look at Ilya, "If you plan on being more than friends you should consider bleeding less and not becoming my patient Mr. Mironov." I say and then I'm out of the door.

This whole chapter was just so fun to write.

I declare all chapters should be fun!

Now it is a future me problem to uphold that promise.

Love love love you💙