| BOOK FOUR | THE LONDON CRIME KING | A DARK MAFIA ROMANCE NOVEL |
This book contains adult language and subject matter, including graphic violence, drugs and explicit sex that may be disturbing to some readers.
This series is NOT a typical romance...
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"It wasn't easy to find you, not with your men patrolling every ward in the hospital. If someone came into the room, they'd see a professional-looking doctor who was going through patient observations. But I am not a doctor, or any medical professional, for that matter. I had to see you, though. I needed to know you were okay, too."
She sat on the bed beside Liam and threaded their fingers. His hand had callouses, the sign of a grafting man, and solid gold she could only dream of owning adorned his knuckles. To her, he'd never been the man people defamed. He's the boy with a golden heart that could never do any wrong. He was usually thick-skinned and dangerously lion-hearted, but as she stared at his unconscious body, so vulnerable and exposed to threats, she had an overwhelming urge to steal him from the ward, to take him home and to protect him.
Heart monitors beeped.
Her rare blood type transfused his veins.
She lifted his wrist to her mouth and kissed his pulse. How long, she had waited to hold his hand, to be this close to him and cherish every ticking second. He smelt like a blend of chemicals and masculine cologne.
Pressing his lifeless hand to her cheek, she closed her eyes and kept him there to savour every moment as it's unlikely she will ever experience his unknowing tenderness again.
"You have been on the wildest of journeys," she said, her throat clogged up. "This is all but a blunder. You will open your eyes. You will leave the room and brave the outside world again because you do it so well." She leaned in to brush dark strands off his eyebrow. Up close, she could see his strong features, and pride inflated her lungs. He's perfectly imperfect and handsome to a fault. If only she could see his eyes, the eyes that have haunted her for three decades. "You are stronger than this, Liam."
Afraid to let go, she lowered her head to his shoulder, being mindful of the breathing tube and intravenous needles, and lingered a kiss on his stubble jaw. She heard arguments beyond the room door, a furious woman lambasting the nurses in the corridor. She recognised her voice and knew it was time to leave, to say goodbye forever. "I love you."
With one last kiss to the man's forehead, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, collected scattered thoughts and exited the room without looking back. Men in suits lined the walls, but one male, a man she recalled as Brad Jones, lingers beside Liam's wife, Alexa Warren. Tears flooded the woman's eyes. Her dark, messy hair stuck out in all directions. It's evident she had rolled out of bed in the early hours to be here.
She skirted around the mob, and chills slithered down her spine. Alexa glared right through the unrecognisable woman. "Is he okay?" Her hand grabbed the woman's elbow. "You were in his room." Devastation constricted her gentle voice. "When can I see him?"
"He's Liam Warren," she said calmly, and too many eyes landed on her. "I think he'll be fine."
She felt their close scrutiny as she walked away.
That night, she said a prayer for her boys. ————————————————— Not a long chapter, but I needed a small scene here.
