The Doctor's Return

Elara's POV. The sun was high when I finally opened my eyes. I turned my head and gasped, Dante was still there. He wasn't sleeping, he was propped up on one elbow, watching me. For a moment, the terror of the previous night in the library flashed through my mind. I expected a lecture or a cold shoulder. Instead, Dante leaned forward. He didn't say a word as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. "Good morning, beautiful." he said. His voice was deep, lacking the usual gravelly edge of a command. "You're still here," I whispered, pulling the silk sheet higher up my chest. "I have a busy day, but I wanted to be here when you woke up." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from my eye. "There is a gala tonight. A masquerade ball. It is an important event for the Moretti family, and it will be your first official appearance as my wife." "I don't have anything to wear for something like that," I said. Dante sat up. "I've already handled it. A team will be here at noon. Do whatever they say. I want the world to see exactly what belongs to me." He got out of bed, but before he left the room, he stopped at the door. He looked back and did something I thought was physically impossible for him. He smiled. It wasn't a smirk or a grin of triumph. It was a genuine, small smile. Then he was gone. I sat there in the silence, stunned. The man who had threatened to bury his brother yesterday was calling me beautiful today. I didn't know which version of Dante was more dangerous. At exactly noon, a woman named Celine arrived with four assistants. They carried rolling racks of clothes and makeup kits. "Mr. Moretti was very specific," Celine said as she began to inspect my skin. "He called three times this morning to check on the progress. He wants you to look extraordinary." "For real?" I asked, sitting still as they began to prep my hair. "Yep," Celine said with a shrug. "Usually, he just sends a credit card and a list of requirements. With you, he sounded more involved." For the next four hours, I was poked, prodded, and polished. They did my hair in a sophisticated updo that left my neck bare, leaving a few dark strands to fall over my face. My makeup was dark, smoky eyes and a neutral lip. Then came the dress. It was a silver silk gown. It was long, hugging my hips and flowing down to the floorl. When I turned around in the mirror, I realized the back was completely gone. The silk draped low, exposing every inch of my spine down to the small of my back. It was the most expensive thing I had ever touched. To finish it off, Celine handed me a black mask. I was standing in the center of the room when the door opened. Dante walked in, already dressed in a black tuxedo. He didn't speak for a long time. He just walked around me, his eyes taking in the dress, the hair, and the skin. "Perfect," he murmured. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. Inside was a diamond necklace. He stepped behind me, his fingers cold against my skin as he fastened the clasp. "Stay close to me tonight, Elara. The people at this ball are not our friends." Our. The gala was held at a historic hotel downtown. Dante's hand was a permanent fixture on the small of my back as we moved through the crowd. "Dante! A beautiful choice," a man in a gold mask said, nodding toward me. "Exceptional isn't she?" Dante asked rhetorically. His voice was polite. I felt like a trophy, but a well-protected one. For the first time since I'd signed that contract, I felt like Dante was actually proud to have me by his side. We were standing near the champagne, Dante's grip on my waist tightened. "Something is wrong," he whispered into my ear. "What do you mean?" I asked, looking around the smiling faces of the elite. "The security at the doors. They aren't mine." Before I could ask another question, every light in the ballroom went out. The music stopped abruptly. For three seconds, there was total silence. Then, the screaming started. The sound of gunfire shattered the glass windows. Panicked socialites trampled one another, trying to reach the exits. "Down!" Dante shouted. He tackled me to the floor just as a burst of bullets hissed over our heads, shattering a massive crystal chandelier above where we had been standing. Glass rained down on us. I felt a sharp sting on my shoulder, but I didn't have time to check for blood or cry. Dante was already dragging me toward the service entrance. He pulled a handgun from a holster I hadn't even noticed under his tuxedo jacket. He fired back into the darkness, three times. "Keep your head down and stay on my heels," Dante commanded. "If I tell you to run, you run, and you don't look back. Do you hear me?" "Yes." I gasped, my heart hammering so hard I thought it would burst through my ribs. We reached the back exit that led to the alleyway. Dante kicked the door open and we burst outside. The rain had started to fall. My silver dress was ruined, but I didn't care. I just wanted to breathe. "We need to get to the car," Dante said, scanning the alley. His chest was heaving, his eyes darting back and forth. We ran toward the end of the alley where his security team was supposed to be waiting. The street was empty, no black SUVs and no guards. "Where are they?" I asked, my voice trembling. Dante didn't answer. He stopped moving and pulled me behind a brick dumpster. He looked at the rooftops. "Elara, don't move," he said. His voice was suddenly very calm. "Dante?" "Look at your chest. Do not move a muscle." I looked down, right over my heart was a tiny perfectly round red dot. A sniper.