Jake laughs sheepishly. “I may have exaggerated a little bit on the phone.”
The doctor pulls over a chair. “It’ll be reflected in my bill. Now what happened?”
“It’s just a small cut.” I hold out my hand. “I’m sorry for having you called in like this, Dr. Hans. It wasn’t my idea.”
He studies the bandaging. “You did this yourself?”
“Had a little help.”
Opening his case, he takes out a pair of scissors. “Well, send the person who did this my way. I’m always in need of nurses at my clinic.”
It takes him a couple of minutes to remove the dressing, inspect the wound, clean it, and bandage it, afterward prescribing a round of oral antibiotics. “Just so that you don’t keel over and die.”
“Thanks for this.” I give him a brief smile.
“Just don’t overdo it. It’ll heal in a couple of days. You can use it, but no strength training or whatever it is you boys do for fun these days.”
Jake rolls his eyes at me, and Dr. Hans snaps his medical bag closed. “I saw that, Jake. That disrespect will also be reflected in my bill. Tell your father I said hello, Ethan. Walk me down, Jake.”
Jake trails after him, leaving me alone to stew in my thoughts.
My palm hurts, but it’s nothing unbearable.
I keep replaying the scene in my head. If I hadn’t gotten in the way, Robert would have landed a fatal blow. Anger burns my insides, and when I hear a knock on the door, I snap, “Who is it?”
Clarice enters. “The police have taken Robert into custody. They want you to come down to the station to make a formal statement.”
I glare at my assistant, the image of Natalie’s frightened faceswimming behind my eyes. “I want you to dig into every part of Robert Dean’s life, Clarice. Dig out every skeleton in his closet. You have a week. I want his life turned inside out.”
Clarice looks at me with uncertainty. “Sir?”
I meet her gaze, my voice steady. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
She shakes her head and hurries back to her desk.
Robert Dean went after Natalie.
It’s a decision that’s going to cost him everything.
Nobody touches what’s mine.
CHAPTER 5
NATALIE
I watchEthan reach for his coffee with his right hand. Almost instantly, his eyebrows lift, and he switches hands. He’s not accustomed to using his left hand, but according to him, he’s not allowed to flex his palm for another week.
It’s been almost a month since the injury, and now it’s August. Not once has he complained. He goes about his day like everything is fine and he didn’t just sustain a debilitating injury protecting me from an overzealous employee. It’s hard to hate a man who got injured because of me and hasn’t uttered a word of discomfort during all these weeks we have spent together.
My mind drifts to a memory from when I was seven and wanted to learn how to ride a bike. Lucas had offered to teach me. He had been holding onto the handles of the bike before he let go suddenly. I remember crying, trying to grab the handles, but it had been too late. I had lost control of the bike and crashed into him because he hadn’t stepped back in time. He twisted his wrist as a result. For a month, he never let me hear the end of it.
And he was my brother.
So for Ethan to act so nonchalant about his injury, which is not a small one by any means, makes me feel tense. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to say something, to remind me of what he did for me.
Over these past weeks, we’ve worked closely together on the company restructuring. The process has been more extensive than either of us initially anticipated—what started as a simple evaluation turned into a complete overhaul of multiple departments. Ethan’s been thorough, methodical, and surprisingly collaborative throughout the entire process.
“This is the list of female staff hired last year.” I hand Ethan a paper, focusing on the task at hand. “All of them are very young with no experience and were placed in high positions within the company.”
