All Chapters of The Devil's Nurse: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

CASSIAN’S POVEarlier:The room was quiet. Too quiet.I sat in my chair by the window, overlooking the front lawn of the estate. From here, I could see the entire stretch of asphalt winding through the iron gates. The sky had already darkened, storm clouds pooling like bruises above the treetops. One hand rested on the armrest, the other clutched my phone, knuckles taut and pale.The plan was simple.Vasili’s men were supposed to retrieve her. Quick, clean, no blood. They’d told me they were trailing the right route. Told me they had eyes. They had time. They had a damn window.So where the fuck were they?It was already past the deadline Vasili gave me. The minutes ticked by like a curse.No van.No Reina.No peace.The food I asked them to prepare for her, sat untouched, growing colder with every tick of the clock—just like the fire draining from my restraint.I was about to dial Vasili myself, already imagining all the ways I would torment him if he gave me anything other than a cl

REINA’S POVIt’s been a week.Seven days since I woke up better, stitched, and delirious in the silk-drenched tomb that is Cassian Morelli’s bedroom. Seven days since he looked at me like I was glass, and started treating me like something priceless… something his.And God help me… I liked it.No. I craved it.Every hour since then, I’ve been wrapped in his care like I’m some fragile doll he’s terrified to break again. His men and workers look at me differently now. The maids speak softer around me. Lucas, oddly, bows his head when I pass.But him? Cassian?He carries me like an egg. Like I might shatter if the wind blows too hard. He tucks the blanket around me himself. He checks the temperature of my tea. He orders my meals. Rubs his thumb over my wrist absently, like memorizing the pulse beneath my skin is part of some holy ritual.He doesn’t touch me the way he used to.Not roughly. Not hungrily. Not at all.He hasn’t kissed me since the night he found me.And somehow… that’s what

REINA’S POV"Shit—sorry," I muttered, rubbing the spot above my brow.“Whoa,” came the familiar voice, deep and vaguely amused. “You still hit like a freight train.”My heart dropped.My eyes snapped up.Leon.He stood there, tall and unmistakable in a black shirt that clung to his broad chest, his signature tactical boots planted like he never left the mansion's halls. His arms were folded, face half-shadowed, like time hadn’t touched him at all since the last time I saw him—since he’d flung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and dragged me into this gilded prison.Since the last time I drove a fist into his area.He shifted awkwardly. “I—uh… I’ve been looking for a way to talk to you. Properly.”I raised a brow. “About throwing me over your shoulder like a barbarian?”He winced. “Yeah. That.” Then he cleared his throat and tried again. “I never really got to apologize for that. Not properly, at least. I was just doing my job, but it… wasn’t right. You were scared. And I s

REINA'S POVIt’s finally time to satisfy my cravings.I’ve finally cracked through Mr Morelli’s armor, and I hope for my own sake, that I don’t regret it.For days on end, he avoided lingering around me like I’m infected with a contagious virus.He wheels up beside me like I might float away, like his grip is the only thing tethering me to earth.Sometimes, I catch him watching me with that haunted hunger—the kind that says he wants to ruin me, but he’s too scared he already has.He tucks the blanket around me himself. Warms my tea with the same hands that have killed men.He brushes his thumb over my wrist like he’s learning my heartbeat. Memorizing it. Owning it.But he hasn’t touched me.Not the way he used to.No hunger.No fire.Not even a kiss.And somehow, that hurts more than any wound.He said I wasn’t a nurse anymore. Not to anyone but him.Said I was his now.His only caregiver.His only cure.But how do you heal a man who lost everything that ever made him human?Still, I

REINA’S POVI woke up with a start.The room was still cloaked in darkness, the early morning light barely bleeding through the edges of the blackout curtains.My body jerked upright—shit—as the thought hit me like a slap of cold water.“Fuck,” I muttered, dragging a palm over my face. “I have work.”I tried to swing my legs off the bed.Tried.But the second my feet touched the floor—“Ah—goddamn,” I hissed, breath catching at the sharp ache that tore up my thighs and between my legs.I was sore.Not just the kind of sore that made you wince. The kind that made you smile through the pain because every bruise, every ache, every lingering heat in your skin was a memory—of him. His mouth. His hands. His body wrecking mine like he was never going to have the chance again.And I loved every fucking second of it.But I didn’t get far.The moment my toes kissed the cold floorboards, strong arms looped around my waist from behind—pulling me back in.I let out a small gasp as my back hit a w