The Mafia Boss's High School Crush Treated Him in the ER

The attack began with a power outage.

Naomi was at home, preparing a small nursery in the second bedroom, when every light in the apartment went dark.

She froze.

The refrigerator stopped humming.

The hallway fell silent.

Then her phone vibrated.

A message appeared from an unknown number.

You have one chance to stop this. Give us the original files, or the next person who gets hurt will be your child.

Naomi's stomach tightened.

She had no original files. The flash drive had been preserved and handed to investigators, with copies stored securely.

Still, whoever sent the message might not know that.

She reached for the emergency flashlight she kept in the kitchen drawer.

A sound came from the hallway.

Three quick knocks.

Then silence.

Naomi moved away from the door.

She called the emergency number provided by the security specialist, then contacted Raymond.

He answered immediately.

"Naomi?"

"Someone is outside."

His voice changed.

"Where are you?"

"At home. The power just went out."

"Are you inside with the door locked?"

"Yes."

"Go to the room farthest from the entrance. Don't open the door for anyone until the security team verifies their identity."

She moved toward the bedroom.

"Raymond, they sent me a message about the baby."

A terrible silence followed.

Then he spoke with controlled urgency.

"I'm coming. The security team is on its way. Stay on the phone with me."

A crash sounded near the front door.

Naomi screamed.

"Naomi, move away from the door!"

She hurried into the bedroom and locked it. Her heart pounded so hard that she could barely hear his voice.

Something struck the apartment door again.

Then came the sound of splintering wood.

Naomi pressed herself against the wall, one hand over her stomach.

She had cared for people during shootings, treated patients brought in after violent attacks, and comforted families in waiting rooms.

She had never been the person listening for footsteps outside her own bedroom.

"Raymond?"

"I'm here."

"Please don't let them take my baby."

His voice cracked.

"They won't."

She heard running footsteps in the hallway, followed by shouting.

Then three sharp impacts.

The bedroom door shook.

Naomi covered her mouth.

The handle turned.

Before the door could open, a loud command rang through the apartment.

"Police! Step away from the door!"

More shouting followed.

Footsteps thundered across the floor.

Then the apartment became quiet.

Naomi did not move until someone knocked on the bedroom door and identified themselves as part of the security team.

When she finally opened it, a woman in a protective vest stood in the hallway.

"You're safe now, Ms. Hail."

Naomi's knees nearly gave way.

Raymond arrived minutes later.

He entered the apartment with Marco behind him, saw Naomi standing beside the bedroom door, and stopped as though the floor had vanished beneath his feet.

She looked pale and shaken.

Her hands were trembling.

But she was alive.

Raymond crossed the room and stopped just in front of her.

"Can I hold you?"

She nodded.

He wrapped his arms around her.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then Naomi began sobbing against his chest.

Raymond held her gently, one hand resting between her shoulder blades, the other hovering protectively near her head.

"I'm here," he whispered. "You're safe."

She clutched the back of his coat.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought—"

Her voice broke.

He tightened his embrace.

"You don't have to say it."

When she finally pulled away, Raymond noticed a small scratch on her wrist.

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing."

He looked at the scratch, then at her.

"Naomi."

"I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

He nodded, accepting the answer.

Then he turned toward Marco.

"Find out who sent those men."

Marco's expression was grim.

"The police arrested two of them. The third escaped through the rear stairwell."

"Good. Preserve every piece of evidence and cooperate with the investigators."

Marco blinked.

"Cooperate?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No."

Raymond turned back to Naomi.

"I won't make decisions for you tonight. But I strongly recommend that you spend the next few days somewhere with better security."

She looked around the damaged apartment.

The front door had been forced inward. A lamp lay broken on the floor, and the nursery curtains hung crookedly where one of the intruders had brushed against the window.

She felt a fresh wave of fear.

"I can't stay here."

Raymond nodded.

"Where would you feel safe?"

She looked at him.

"Your penthouse."

He did not move.

She had refused the offer before, and he knew what it cost her to reconsider it.

"Are you sure?"

"No," she admitted. "But I don't know where else to go."

"Then we'll make sure you have a private suite, your own key, and the freedom to leave whenever you choose. You won't be trapped there, and nobody will make decisions about your life without you."

Naomi looked into his eyes.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

She took his hand.

"Then take me there."

***

Raymond's penthouse occupied the upper floors of a building overlooking the harbor.

It was elegant but surprisingly quiet, with wide windows, dark wood floors, and furniture arranged for comfort rather than display.

Naomi had expected something extravagant and cold.

Instead, she found bookshelves, framed photographs, and a small kitchen that looked as though someone actually used it.

Raymond showed her the guest suite.

It contained a bedroom, a sitting room, a private bathroom, and a door that opened onto a small terrace overlooking the city.

"You can lock this door from the inside," he told her. "No one will enter without your permission."

She looked at the bed.

It was larger than her entire living room.

"Do you live here alone?"

"Mostly."

"That sounds lonely."

He smiled faintly.

"I'm good at it."

She turned toward him.

"That's not something to be proud of."

"No," he agreed. "It isn't."

For the first time that night, she felt the fear beginning to recede.

Raymond helped her settle in, then arranged for a physician to check her because of the stress and the fall she had nearly taken when the bedroom door shook.

The examination confirmed that the baby was fine.

Naomi cried with relief.

Raymond stood near the window, giving her privacy.

When the physician left, Naomi called him back.

"Raymond?"

He turned.

"The baby is all right."

His shoulders lowered.

"Thank God."

She watched him for a moment.

"You were frightened."

"Yes."

"More frightened than you were when you got shot?"

He thought about it.

"Much more."

The honesty surprised her.

She reached for his hand.

He came closer.

They stood together beside the bed, neither certain what to say.

Finally, Naomi whispered, "Can you stay until I fall asleep?"

Raymond's heart tightened.

"Of course."

He sat in the chair beside her bed while she changed into comfortable clothes and settled beneath the blanket.

For nearly an hour, they talked about ordinary things.

Naomi told him about a patient who had tried to diagnose himself using internet videos. Raymond described the terrible cafeteria food he had survived as a teenager.

She laughed at his story about being caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella.

He laughed when she admitted that she had once tried to make a birthday cake using a recipe that called for three ingredients she had never heard of.

Eventually, her voice became quiet.

"Raymond?"

"Yes?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me you loved me?"

He stared at her.

"I didn't think I had the right."

"Because you left?"

"Because I left. Because I was afraid. Because I thought you deserved someone who could give you a normal life."

Naomi looked toward the ceiling.

"I don't know what I deserve anymore."

He moved his chair closer.

"You deserve to be loved without having to earn it. You deserve to be safe without being controlled. You deserve a future that doesn't depend on what happened to you in the past."

Tears gathered in her eyes.

"That sounds nice."

"It should be ordinary."

She turned toward him.

"Do you still love me?"

There was no hesitation.

"Yes."

"Even though I was married?"

"Yes."

"Even though I still love Trevor?"

Raymond looked at her steadily.

"Yes."

She swallowed.

"I don't know whether I can love anyone the way I loved him."

"I wouldn't ask you to."

"What if I never stop missing him?"

"Then I will never ask you to stop."

She searched his face for resentment.

There was none.

Only longing and an ache that seemed older than either of them.

She reached for his hand and pressed it against her cheek.

"Thank you for not making me choose between the past and the future."

Raymond lowered his head.

He kissed her forehead gently, then sat back.

"Try to sleep."

She closed her eyes.

For the first time in months, she fell asleep without listening for the next threatening phone call.

Raymond remained beside her until dawn.

***

The next morning, investigators confirmed that the men arrested at Naomi's apartment had been hired through a company linked to Victor Sloane.

They had been instructed to retrieve any remaining copies of Trevor's files and intimidate Naomi into withdrawing her cooperation.

The men claimed they had not been ordered to kill her.

Agent Shaw made it clear that the investigation into the attempted home invasion would proceed regardless of their claims.

Raymond listened to the briefing without interruption.

When the investigators finished, he turned to Marco.

"Find out whether anyone else has been threatened."

"We already have reports from two former warehouse employees."

"Get those names to Agent Shaw. No one in our organization is to contact them privately."

Marco nodded.

"Understood."

Raymond turned to Naomi, who sat beside him with a cup of tea.

"They're going to investigate this properly."

She nodded.

"I want to give a statement."

"You can."

"And I want to be involved in reviewing the evidence about Trevor."

"Of course."

She studied him.

"You aren't going to tell me to stay here and let you handle everything?"

He smiled faintly.

"I thought about it."

"Raymond."

"But I have been informed that you don't respond well to unreasonable orders."

She shook her head, laughing softly.

Then her expression became serious.

"I need you to understand something. I came here because I was frightened. I am grateful that you protected me last night. But I don't want our entire relationship to become about danger."

"I don't want that either."

"I want to sit in a park. I want to eat dinner somewhere without guards watching every table. I want to talk about ordinary things and argue about movies."

Raymond looked at her for a long moment.

"I want those things, too."

"Then we need to build a life in which they're possible."

He nodded.

"One step at a time."

She held out her hand.

He took it.

For the first time, their joined fingers felt less like a desperate promise and more like the beginning of something neither of them needed to define immediately.

***

Late that afternoon, Marco brought Raymond a message.

Victor Sloane wanted a meeting.

The note contained a location and a time.

No explanation.

Raymond read it and set it aside.

Marco folded his arms.

"Sloane may try to use the meeting to threaten you."

"Of course he will."

"Do you intend to go?"

Raymond thought about Naomi asleep in the guest suite, her hand resting over the child she had fought so hard to protect.

He thought about the men who had broken into her home.