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FOURTY-SEVEN: I'll Take This Project

Author: Circeleari
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-23 23:55:44

It’s about to be midnight and I’m still in the hospital. The smell of antiseptic still clings to my skin.

No matter how many times I wash my hands, I swear I can still feel his blood on them.

The fluorescent light above me buzzes, flickering once—twice—like it’s just as exhausted as I am. I’m sitting on the edge of the hospital cot, staring at the medical chart in my hands that I’ve been pretending to read for the last ten minutes. My mind’s not here. It’s still in that room, with his voice, his stare, the weight of everything he said.

“Don’t run away every time I lose control, Eris.”

The memory of that line makes my chest tighten all over again. I wish I could say I didn’t want to. But the truth would be different. I want to run so damn bad my legs are already halfway there.

I exhale, shove the chart back onto the table, and grab my bag. I need air. Space. Maybe a few hours without those crimson eyes following me like a spotlight.

I get out of the office and out the door. “Ah!” My he
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  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SEVENTY-FOUR: Parent's Day

    Fuck.The word echoes in my head like a prayer to a god who stopped listening years ago. We're inches apart—maybe less—and I can feel the heat radiating off him like he's the sun and I'm Icarus with melted wings and a death wish.I jerk backward so fast I nearly fall on my ass, scrambling away from him like he's made of fire. My face is burning, and I can't look at him, can't let him see whatever the hell is written all over my face right now."What else do you remember?" The words come out breathless, unprofessional, completely fucking compromised. But I'm still his therapist. That's what I'm being paid for. Get it together, Eris.Dante's quiet for a moment, and when he speaks, his voice is distant, like he's watching a movie of someone else's life. "I see myself jumping off a building."My heart stops."My Beta was there. Trying to stop me. But he was too late."No. No, no, no—"Do you know what that means?" He's looking at me now, and there's something in his eyes— he already knows

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SEVENTY-THREE: The Apology Cake

    "You need to leave."My voice comes out flat, stripped of anything resembling negotiation. I'm tired. So fucking tired of this day, this conversation, the weight of his question still hanging in the air like smoke I can't wave away.Luke finally sets the tea mugs down on the coffee table—untouched, cold, pointless—and the ceramic hits wood too hard. The sound makes me flinch. "She's right," he says, stepping forward. "You should go."I watch him try to be brave, watch him close half the distance between himself and Dante before his jaw goes tight and his feet stop moving. He's not short, but Dante makes him look it. Makes him look young and outmatched and painfully, obviously aware that if this turned physical, he wouldn't stand a chance.Dante doesn't move. Doesn't even blink."I don't want to leave," he says.I exhale through my nose, sharp and exasperated. "Then what the hell do you want?"He looks away. Actually looks away, and something about that movement—the way his shoulders s

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SEVENTY-TWO: Then Who Is?

    Show more7:27 AMThe word "mommy" is still hanging in the air like a grenade with its pin pulled when Dante's eyebrow does this slow, deliberate arch that makes me want to punch him in his stupidly handsome face."Mom, huh?" His voice is silk and steel, and I hate how it makes my skin prickle. "Funny. Earlier he was your nephew."My jaw clenches so hard I might crack a molar. "I don't owe you explanations about my personal life.""Your personal life?" He steps closer, and I instinctively back up against the doorframe. Big mistake. Now he's looming, and he's good at looming. "You mean the personal life where you're hiding a kid? That seems like information an employer might want to know.""You're my boss, not my keeper." The words come out sharper than I intend, but I'm running on pure panic right now. Daxton is inside. Dante is outside. This is literally my nightmare scenario, except everyone's still wearing clothes, so I guess it could be worse. "We're not close. We're not friends. Yo

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SEVENTY-ONE: I Want My Mommy

    I don’t answer him.I can’t.Dante’s question hangs in the air, neat and polite and sharp enough to slice skin. Who’s the kid?Not loud. Not rushed. Like he’s asking for the time.Daxton shifts in my arms, his weight heavy and warm against my chest. He smells faintly of medicine and sweat and the cheap grape syrup I bribed him with earlier. My grip tightens without permission, my forearm locking under his thighs, my other hand flattening between his shoulder blades.My body already knows what my brain hasn’t caught up to yet—run, turn, disappear.I angle my shoulder away from Dante, planting my feet wide on the cracked concrete of the walkway. The porch light hums above us, throwing a sick yellow glow over everything. The world feels too open. Too visible. Windows. Cars. Lawns trimmed within an inch of their lives.Nowhere to hide.“Eris?”Luke’s voice comes from behind me, close. Too close. I hadn’t heard him open the door. Hadn’t heard his steps on the porch.My stomach drops.He so

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SEVENTY: Finally Meeting

    The taxi keeps rolling, tires hissing over wet pavement, and I keep watching the side mirror like it’s going to blink back at me.Aside from the fact that I’ve been too engrossed on thinking what to do when I arrive back in the house later, one of the thing that’s been bothering me . . . is that fucking cab behind us.It’s still there.The yellow cab behind us hasn’t peeled off once. Not at the last light. Not when we turned off the main road. Not even when the traffic thinned out and there were a dozen different streets it could’ve taken.My jaw tightens.I lean forward slightly between the seats. “Hey,” I say, keeping my voice casual even though my pulse is starting to tick faster. “Can I ask you something?”The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror. Late forties, tired eyes, Seahawks cap pulled low. “Sure.”“That cab behind us,” I say, nodding subtly. “The one that’s been there since the airport. You notice it?”He looks again, longer this time. Shrugs. “Yeah. I noticed.”“An

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   SIXTY-NINE: Two Bodies, One Child

    The wheels hit the runway with a hard jolt, and the cabin exhales around me. The seatbelt sign clicks off. People stand immediately, crowding the aisle, dragging bags out of overhead bins like their lives depend on it.I don’t look at Dante.I don’t give him anything.I grab my bag, shrug my coat on, and stand the second there’s room. My body is already moving, already gone. My head is not here. It’s in a hospital room three thousand miles away, with white walls and bad lighting and a child who looked too small for the bed he was lying in.Daxton’s face flashes behind my eyes. My son being pale. Lips a little too dry. The way his fingers kept curling into the blanket on the video call, as though he was holding onto something that wasn’t there.Lucas saying, ‘I don’t know what’s wrong, Eris. I swear I’m doing everything right.’ before the call ended.Dante is behind me. I can feel him without looking. Too close. Too calm. It’s as if he isn’t bothered by the fact that I didn’t ask him t

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