All Chapters of Nursing the Murderer Alpha King: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The plane lands with a groan that rattles through my bones. Tires screech and the cabin lurches forward. Seatbelts click open one after another—like little detonations snapping me out of the trance I’ve been in since I saw his eyes glow.Gold.Not amber. Not a trick of the light. Gold.His hand grips the armrest between us, veins tense, knuckles pale. He doesn’t move for a full minute, nor does he even blink. His expression is empty—too empty—and that’s worse than anger. It’s the same look he wore before he killed a man.Then, just like that, he exhales. A calm and collected exhale.He unbuckles his belt and stands. This is . . . something else.“Told you turbulence wasn’t that bad,” he says, flashing that easy grin that could make strangers fall in love.My fingers tremble as I reach for my bag, pretending to smile. “Right. Not bad at all.”His gaze flicks to my hands. He notices the shake, I know he does, but he says nothing. He just takes the bag from me like it’s the most natural

The doors slide shut.The sound seals me in.The air hums with recycled cold and the faint scent of steel and cologne. It’s too sterile. Too quiet. The kind of silence that knows things you wish it didn’t.He’s standing there—Dante. In that black suit and blood-red eyes. A smirk that looks too familiar and too fucking dangerous for my sanity.My throat tightens. “Wow,” I blurt out, way too loudly. “Um . . . Small world, huh?”He doesn’t answer but he watches me with an unreadable expression. His eyes are locked on me as though he’s trying to remember what I taste like.I choke out a weak laugh. “About earlier—I, uh, I call everyone ‘jerk.’ It’s an occupational hazard.”He tilts his head slightly, a lazy curl at the corner of his mouth. “Do you, now?”Oh, perfect. I sound like a preschooler explaining why she bit someone.My fingers dig into the folder I’m holding, the paper edges biting my skin. The mirrored wall reflects us—me, a disheveled disaster; him, sin in a suit.The elevator h

“And make me remember, everything I’ve forgotten.”The air in the room is too still. Too fucking thick.It almost feels like breathing through smoke.Dante doesn’t move for a moment after saying it. He only stares—no, studies me, it’s as if he’s watching something crawl under my skin. Then he rises from his chair roughly, like a predator testing how far the prey will run before it bolts.My spine locks as he begins circling me. The sound of his shoes against the polished floor is the only thing breaking the silence. That, and the thundering pulse in my ears.“You knew me once,” he says quietly, behind me. “Didn’t you?”I could hear my own heart drop to my stomach with a thud. How did he . . .My breath catches, but I force my voice steady. “We’ve only met in the plane, Dante. I’m one of your doctors now. Whatever you’re—”“Don’t,” he interrupts, the word sharp as a whip. “Don’t hide behind your doctor bullshit.”He moves closer. I can feel the heat of him behind me—close enough that

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

Hell. No.The second those words leave his smug-ass mouth—“Welcome home, Doctor”—I know I’ve officially reached the seventh layer of hell. And Dante’s the devil lounging at the bottom with a glass of scotch and that stupid fucking smirk.I snatch the contract off the table and storm out of the office before I accidentally stab him with the pen I’m still holding.He hisses and I roll my eyes at him before turning to the guards. “I can get back to my quarters, thank you.” I murmur.I’m going back to my apartment, damn it.Cohabitate. With him.As in, breathe the same air again. Sleep under the same roof again Possibly die in my sleep if he decides I look “edible” again.Yeah, no thanks. I’ve gone through that hell before and I am not doing it again.The elevator ride down feels suffocating. My reflection on the steel doors looks like a woman moments away from committing tax fraud just to afford a one-way flight to anywhere else. My hair’s a mess, my hands are shaking, and my chest feels