Chapter 2 - The Doctor Who Wanted Me Gone
Bellini recovered quickly.
Men who spend their careers around money and danger learn how to put their faces back on.
He set his leather bag on the dresser.
“Mr. Rossi, you have a fever. You’re confused.”
Dominic’s eyes hardened.
“I know who is in my room.”
Bellini glanced at me.
“Nora Hayes has a history of insubordination.”
I folded my arms.
“That’s a dramatic way to say I reported you.”
Dominic looked between us.
“For what?”
Bellini answered too fast.
“Nothing relevant.”
I answered anyway.
“He pushed for discharge on a postoperative patient with fever and wound drainage because the patient’s family wanted privacy.”
Bellini’s jaw tightened.
“The patient recovered.”
“After returning in septic shock.”
Dominic’s hand remained near the pistol.
The room went quiet.
Bellini walked toward the bed.
“I need to examine the wound.”
“No,” I said.
His head snapped toward me.
Dominic almost smiled again.
Bellini’s voice became icy.
“You are household nursing staff. I am the physician of record.”
“Then show me the operative report.”
“What?”
“The surgery five days ago. Procedure note, medication record, drain placement, removal time, wound culture.”
Bellini stared.
“Those documents are confidential.”
“To the patient?”
Dominic looked amused now.
Bellini looked trapped.
I kept going.
“Did you place a drain?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Dominic’s expression changed.
“You told me you didn’t.”
Bellini turned toward him.
“You were sedated. I explained postoperative care to Leo.”
That was possible.
But not enough.
“When was it removed?” I asked.
“Two days ago.”
“By who?”
Bellini’s eyes narrowed.
“Why does it matter?”
“Because there’s no documentation and the wound is infected.”
“I’m aware of the infection.”
“Then why is he on oral cephalexin at that dose?”
Bellini’s face hardened.
“He has medication sensitivities.”
I looked at Dominic.
“Do you?”
He shook his head.
Bellini snapped, “Enough.”
That one word told me more than the chart.
He did not want questions.
I had worked in emergency medicine long enough to know the difference between a doctor irritated by interference and a doctor afraid of scrutiny.
Bellini was afraid.
Dominic saw it too.
“Leo,” he called.
The door opened almost instantly.
Of course Leo had been outside.
“Bring Dr. Bellini downstairs.”
Bellini went still.
“Dominic.”
“Now.”
“You don’t understand your condition.”
“I understand I asked a question and you avoided it.”
Bellini glanced at me with pure hatred.
“This woman is dangerous.”
I laughed once.
“Compared with this house?”
Dominic’s eyes never left Bellini.
“Go.”
Leo escorted him out.
The moment the door closed, Dominic sagged against the pillows.
The performance had cost him.
His lips were pale.
I checked his pulse again.
Too fast.
“You need fluids.”
“Whatever.”
“Blood cultures.”
“Fine.”
“Portable chest and shoulder imaging.”
“Fine.”
“Someone to draw labs.”
He closed his eyes.
“You said pizza.”
“I said the physician owed me pizza.”
I called Dr. Maya Chen.
She had been an ER attending when I was still at St. Anne’s and one of the few doctors who treated nurses like people who had attended school.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Nora?”
“I need a favor.”
“How illegal?”
“Not illegal.”
“That is disappointing.”
“I have a gunshot patient with fever, infected wound, possible retained foreign body, no proper operative documentation, and a private surgeon I don’t trust.”
Silence.
“Where are you?”
I looked at Dominic.
He nodded.
“Rossi estate.”
Another silence.
“The Dominic Rossi?”
“Apparently there’s only one.”
Maya exhaled.
“You owe me much more than pizza.”
“I know.”
She arrived an hour later with a portable ultrasound technician and a lab phlebotomist from a mobile service.
Leo searched everyone.
Maya looked offended.
“Do I look armed?”
Leo said, “Everyone looks armed.”
Dominic was worse by then.
Temperature 103.7.
Blood pressure falling.
Maya examined the wound.
Then she looked at me.
“You were right.”
Dominic opened one eye.
“She likes hearing that.”
“I do.”
The ultrasound showed fluid around the surgical tract and a metallic object near the shoulder.
Not large.
But definitely there.
Maya frowned.
“Could be a retained bullet fragment.”
Dominic’s voice was rough.
“Bellini said he got everything.”
“Bellini says a lot.”
Maya ordered broad-spectrum IV antibiotics after cultures were drawn.
She started fluids.
Dominic objected to the IV until I reminded him he had agreed.
He accused me of exploiting weakness.
I told him weakness was letting bacteria make decisions.
Maya hid a smile.
Two hours later, the first lab results returned.
White count dangerously high.
Lactate elevated.
Kidney function starting to drift.
Sepsis.
No question now.
“You need surgery,” Maya said.
Dominic stared at the ceiling.
“I’m not going to a hospital.”
Maya looked at me.
I looked at Leo.
Leo looked tired.
“Why?” I asked.
Dominic’s face closed.
“Because the last time I entered a hospital under my own name, someone tried to finish a job they started elsewhere.”
The room went quiet.
Maya stopped writing.
“What job?”
Dominic looked at me.
I remembered rule one.
Do not ask how he was injured.
He answered anyway.
“Three weeks ago, I was shot leaving a warehouse meeting.”
I waited.
“Bellini operated here because one of the hospitals leaked my location.”
Leo added, “A man posing as an orderly entered the secured floor before we transferred him out.”
Maya’s expression changed.
“That’s why you brought him home.”
“Yes.”
“Then we can bring the hospital here.”
Dominic looked at her.
“How?”
“Portable imaging. Surgical team. Anesthesia. Proper sterile field.”
Leo said, “We have a medical room downstairs.”
Of course they did.
I had assumed the mansion’s lower level held wine and weapons.
Apparently it also held a private operating suite.
Maya looked at me.
“I need a surgeon.”
“Not Bellini.”
“Obviously.”
Dominic said, “I have another.”
Leo spoke carefully.
“Dr. Harris.”
Dominic shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“He was at the warehouse.”
The room changed.
Maya frowned.
“A surgeon?”
“Family friend.”
I looked at Leo.
“Who was at the meeting?”
Leo hesitated.
Dominic answered.
“My cousin Matteo. Luke Santoro, who runs the west side. Dr. Harris. Me. Three guards.”
“Who shot you?”
“No one saw.”
“Sniper?”
“We thought so.”
Thought.
The word stayed with me.
Maya checked the wound again.
“This fragment can wait hours, not days. But the abscess needs drainage soon.”
Dominic nodded.
“Find someone.”
Leo left.
Maya pulled me aside near the window.
“You staying?”
“Yes.”
“You know what house this is?”
“Yes.”
“You know what he is?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
I looked at Dominic.
Even feverish, he watched everything.
“I know he’s sick.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one relevant tonight.”
Maya studied me.
“Be careful.”
After she left the room to call a surgical colleague, Dominic said, “She thinks I’m going to kill you.”
“She thinks you’re dangerous.”
“She’s right.”
I cleaned dried blood from his chest.
He watched my hands.
“You don’t seem afraid.”
“I am.”
That surprised him.
“Of me?”
“Of rent. Infection. Bad doctors. Men who think rules apply differently to them. Lots of things.”
“Me?”
I looked at him.
“Not yet.”
He laughed once and immediately winced.
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“That sounded almost like a request.”
He closed his eyes.
Minutes later, Leo returned holding Dominic’s medication bottle.
“We checked Bellini’s bag.”
He placed a vial on the table.
The label had been peeled off.
Maya came back in and took one look.
“What is that?”
Leo said, “It was hidden under the lining.”
Maya drew a small amount into a syringe and examined it.
“We need a lab.”
Dominic opened his eyes.
“What do you think?”
Maya’s expression had gone serious.
“I think nobody gives you anything from Bellini until we know what this is.”
Leo’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then went pale.
“What?” Dominic asked.
Leo looked at him.
“Bellini’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“He never reached the front gate.”
The estate had cameras, guards, locked doors.
A sick man in bed.
A missing doctor.
And an unlabeled drug vial.
May you like
Then Leo said the part that made every hair on my arms rise.
“One of the security cameras shows someone opening the service tunnel for him from inside the house.”
