Gemma’s POV
"Miss Gemma." As I exited the Thorne family’s legitimate front office building, I spotted Brandon, the family’s most trusted driver, waiting by his black sedan. His weathered face carried the kind of quiet authority that only ca from decades of service to the organization.
"Hello, Brandon. How are you holding up today?" I greeted him with genuine warmth. The elderly gentleman had always treated with respect, even before Dominic and I beca official. His distinguished gray hair and permanent smile masked the steel beneath - I’d seen him handle threats to the family with lethal efficiency.
"Very well, thank you, Miss. And yourself?" His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, though I caught the subtle way he scanned the street for potential dangers.
"I’m good. But what brings you here? Dominic didn’t ntion sending anyone."
"Capo Frost requested I escort you ho today." Brandon’s expression shifted slightly, the way it did when family business turned serious. "It appears he’s taken ill."
"Dominic’s sick? What happened?" My stomach knotted with concern. He’d seed fine this morning when he left for his eting with the money laundering network supervisors, though he had ntioned a headache brewing. It was unusual for him not to text throughout the day - even during the most dangerous family operations, he always found ways to check on .
"I’m afraid I don’t have details, Miss. The Capo just said you’d need safe transport ho." He held the car door open with practiced elegance, his hand positioned where I knew he kept his concealed weapon.
"Of course."
The ride through our territory was pleasant enough, with Brandon chatting about his grandchildren while his eyes never stopped monitoring the rearview mirror and side streets. When we arrived at Dominic’s heavily fortified compound, he handed the house keys along with a small device I recognized as the security override.
"Capo’s orders, Miss Gemma. He wanted to ensure you could access everything you might need."
I thanked him and made my way past the ard security checkpoint, where the guards nodded respectfully. Inside the fortress-like mansion, I found Dominic sprawled across the living room sofa, looking absolutely miserable beneath a cashre throw blanket. The sight of such a powerful man - soone who commanded fear throughout the underworld - reduced to this vulnerable state sent rushing to his side.
"Dominic? My God, what happened to you?" I knelt beside him, imdiately noting his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.
"Just a stupid cold, Princess." His voice sounded raspy before a sneeze erupted from him, so different from his usual commanding tone that struck terror into rival families.
Concern washed over as I took in his condition - watery, bloodshot eyes, dark circles beneath them, red nose, and a half-empty tissue box at his side. The strong sll of nthol hung in the air, and I spotted a jar of vapor rub nearby. When my hand touched his forehead, the heat radiating from his skin alard . This was the sa man who’d taken multiple bullets recently and barely flinched.
"You’re burning up," I said, trying to keep panic from my voice.
"I’ve taken what the family doctor prescribed." He gestured weakly toward the coffee table, which resembled a small pharmacy - fever reducers, antihistamines, throat lozenges, nasal spray, anti-inflammatories, and painkillers were scattered across its surface. "Doc made a house call this morning."
"But you seed perfectly fine when you left for the waterfront eting," I noted, perplexed by the rapid onset.
"Had a headache brewing during negotiations. Got worse as the day went on." His words were punctuated by another explosive sneeze. "Probably all those late nights coordinating with our contacts in Chicago."
"Why didn’t you call ?"
"It’s nothing serious, Gemma." He sniffled. "Doc says I’ll be fine soon, as long as it doesn’t develop into pneumonia. Can’t afford to be down longer with the territory expansion plans."
"Pneumonia?" I raised my eyebrows. "Co on, you’re built like a tank, Dominic. You’ve survived assassination attempts and gang wars."
"Professor’s warning. Said even soldiers need to be careful." He sounded so unlike his usual commanding self - the man who could silence a room full of hardened criminals with a single look.
"I bet it was those cold midnight patrol runs through the docks catching up with you." I shook my head. "Have you eaten anything today?"
"Can’t stomach food," he groaned.
"Well, that won’t do. You need nutrition to maintain your strength. I’m making you soup, and you’re going to eat it."
"Gemma, don’t worry about . You’ve had a long day dealing with the front operations. The kitchen staff left dinner prepared."
"I don’t care. I’m taking care of you," I insisted. "And if this fever doesn’t break soon, we’re getting Doc back here, or I’m having the boys drive us to our private dical facility."
He nodded weakly, making my heart ache. Seeing such a feared Capo - a man whose reputation alone could end territorial disputes - reduced to this vulnerable state was disconcerting.
"Let’s get you upstairs to our room. You can’t recover sleeping on the sofa where anyone could see you like this."
"No, I don’t want you catching this," he protested, his concern for evident even through his misery. "The family needs you healthy too."
"My handso worrier," I smiled tenderly. "I want to take care of you."
He looked up at with those fever-bright eyes. "I don’t deserve you, Princess."
My heart lted at his words. "Either you co sleep with in our bed, or I’m camping out here on the floor with you. Your choice, Capo."
He sighed in defeat. "Fine. Bed it is."
After settling Dominic in our bedroom, I took a quick shower and headed to the kitchen to prepare his soup. While the broth simred, I called Zoe, feeling she should have warned about his condition.
"Gemma, I swear I didn’t know," Zoe explained, her voice carrying the edge it always had when family business was discussed. "I’ve been buried in intelligence reports all day, tracking those shipnts from the East Coast families. Last I saw him, he was just popping aspirin after the port authority eting."
"He’s really sick, Zoe. I feel terrible - I think those midnight security rounds we insisted on might be responsible."
"Maybe we did push him too hard," she admitted. "But give him so proper care, and he’ll bounce back before long. The man’s survived worse than a cold."
After hanging up, I finished preparing a tray with steaming chicken soup, toast, and fresh orange juice. When I returned to the bedroom, Dominic was huddled under the covers, looking miserable.
"Soup’s ready," I announced gently. "Let’s pull these blankets back a bit. You need to cool down."
When I tugged the covers away, I discovered Dominic was completely naked. Despite his illness, the sight of his perfect body - broad shoulders marked with old bullet scars, muscular arms that had eliminated countless threats, narrow hips, and everything in between - made my mouth go dry. I’d been craving him since yesterday, and seeing him exposed like this sent heat pooling low in my belly.
"What is it?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"Nothing. Just admiring my deadly boyfriend." I smiled as his lips twitched in a weak grin.
"Sorry. The fever made too hot for clothes. And the dicine makes drowsy."
"Don’t apologize." I composed myself. "I’ve brought soup and juice. You need to eat sothing and stay hydrated, even if you don’t feel like it."
"Have you eaten?" Even ill, he worried about first - the protective instincts of a Capo never truly resting.
"Yes, I have. Now it’s your turn."
"Not hungry," he sighed.
"Not negotiable," I countered firmly, using the tone I’d learned from watching him command his soldiers.
I filled a spoon with broth, blew on it gently, and brought it to his lips. After a mont’s hesitation, he accepted it, and I continued feeding him until the bowl was empty. Afterward, he drank the juice without protest.
Once I’d helped him brush his teeth and use the bathroom, we returned to bed. I snuggled against his warm body as he wrapped his arms around with a contented sigh. Despite my desire for him, I was content to simply hold him as we drifted to sleep, the sound of distant patrol cars and the compound’s security system humming around us.
The next morning, Dominic seed considerably better. The fever had broken during the night.
"How are you feeling?" I placed my palm on his forehead, relieved to find it cooler.
"Much better. Your soup must have magical properties, Princess." His voice still sounded rough, but his eyes were clearer, showing hints of the dangerous intelligence that made him such an effective lieutenant.
"I’m glad." My gaze wandered over his naked form, desire flaring anew.
"Why are you looking at like that?" A knowing smile played on his lips, the predatory edge returning.
"Just wondering if you’re still feeling too sick," I bit my lip suggestively.
"For what exactly?"
"For to have my way with you." Heat flared in my cheeks.
His smile broadened, the deadly charm that had conquered territory and enemies alike now focused entirely on . "Co here."
He pulled onto his lap, and I straddled him eagerly. "You might catch my cold, but I’ll never be too sick for you, Princess."
His lips found my neck as I felt him hardening beneath . I ground against him while he lavished attention on my breasts. When I felt him fully erect, I positioned myself above him and sank down slowly, gasping as he filled completely.
Dominic, despite his illness, gave multiple earth-shattering orgasms in various positions. His sexual stamina was nothing short of miraculous - the sa endurance that made him legendary in both the boardroom and the battlefield. When he finally climaxed deep inside , he collapsed against , both of us drenched in sweat and panting heavily.
He laughed against my neck and joked, "My mother always said sweating is good for a cold. Old Italian wisdom."
The following days passed in comfortable dosticity. Dominic’s health improved steadily, and we fell into a pleasant routine - making love each night, discussing family business for hours, and sleeping wrapped in each other’s arms. Thankfully, my immune system proved resilient, and I avoided catching his cold.
Later that week, we went shopping for security upgrades and personal touches for the compound, gradually transforming the fortress into our ho. Soon after brought family obligations - lunch with Nadia and dinner with my mother, who was still adjusting to my life in the organization.
Everything seed perfect, our dangerous little world intact and growing stronger. But in our line of work, peace never lasted long. Soon, our bliss was shattered as a cascade of enemy movents descended upon us, threatening everything we’d built together in blood and bullets.
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