Lahat ng Kabanata ng LOVE BUILT IN BLOOD : Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

The air in the office went instantly thin.I stood frozen in the doorway, my hand still resting on the frame, my heart slamming violently against my ribs. The sheer absurdity of the image in front of me took a full five seconds to process the sterile white walls, the smell of antiseptic, Dr. Peter sweating through his white coat, and Ronan Siren sitting like he owned the entire wing.Which, I reminded myself with a sudden, sickening jolt, he practically did."What are you doing here?" My voice came out lower than I intended, rough with the exhaustion of a twenty-four-hour shift and laced with outright hostility."Quinn," Dr. Peter interjected quickly, his hands hovering nervously over the file on his desk as he looked between us. "Please, step in and close the door. We were just discussing your mother's case…""He has no business discussing my mother's case," I snapped, stepping into the room and letting the door click shut behind me. I kept my eyes locked on Ronan. "I asked you

"Quinn? What is it? What happened?"Neha’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears, but her face felt blurred, far away."It's nothing," I lied, my tone totally flat as I forced my hand to drop away from the phone. "Just... news from the hospital.""Good news or bad news?" she asked, leaning over the desk to try and read my face. "You look like you've seen a ghost.""Good news," I said, forcing a faint, tight nod that felt entirely fake. "They found a grant. A non-profit foundation stepped in to clear the debt and put Mum on the priority donor list."Neha blinked, taking a small step back in surprise. "Wait, really? That fast? Quinn, that’s incredible.""Yeah," I muttered, staring past her toward Chief John's closed office door. "Incredible.""Which foundation?" she asked, her investigator’s eye instantly sharpening. "Was it local?""I don't know," I lied again, turning my face toward my computer screen to break eye contact. "It was just an automated notification. I haven't talked to

Quinn's pov The storm outside the Maybach had felt like a cage, but stepping back into the freezing rain was worse.“When I call you, answer. Never forget that.”The words followed me through the downpour, louder than the thunder rolling over the sky. I walked fast, my hands shoved deep into my coat pockets, my fists clenched until my knuckles ached.I wasn't terrified. Not exactly.But something cold and sickening had settled deep in my gut. It was his certainty.Ronan had spoken to me like obedience wasn't something I could choose. Like it was simply something that would happen eventually.What revolted me most was the fraction of a second when I'd frozen.The warmth of his fingers against my jaw. The hitch in my breath. The way I'd almost…I shoved the thought away.I hated him for it. But I hated myself more for giving him even an inch of leverage.By the time I reached home, the rain had soaked through my jacket.Inside, the living room light was still on. Quincy sat on the rug

Quinn's pov The rain had picked up by the time the bakery started emptying out. I leaned my forearm on the wooden table, my fingers tracing the warm ceramic edge of my coffee mug. I wasn't looking at the rain, though. I was looking at Ronan. He was sitting back in his chair, a half-empty espresso cup held casually between his fingers. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, his tie slightly loosened, and he was staring right back at me with a faint, infuriating trace of amusement playing on his lips. I held his gaze for three full seconds before snapping. "What?" "Nothing," Ronan said smoothly. "You were staring." "I was." "Dangerous," I muttered, rolling my eyes. I looked down at my mug, trying to hide the small, stupid smile tugging at the corner of my own mouth. It was stupid because I shouldn't be smiling. Instead, I felt terrifyingly comfortable. “What's your favorite?" "Favorite what?" I realized I had spaced out. "Cake." I paused, resting my chin in my hand. "Cho

Quinn's pov The morning air outside St. Mary’s was cold, but my head was burning.I couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. About the dark alleyway. About the sheer, unhinged instinct that had made me pull Ronan Siren close, and the way his mouth had felt against mine, possessive, and completely ruinous.I had practically run away from him afterward. I had expected a text, a call, or anything at all.Nothing.It was a mistake, I told myself, stepping into the warm, sterile hum of the hospital lobby. A momentary lapse in judgment. He realized it, too, and he’s dropping it.I kept repeating the thought like a script, trying to force my brain to accept it. But by the time the elevator doors dinged on the fourth floor, my heart was still hammering against my ribs.When I stepped out into the hallway, the first person I saw was my younger sister.Quincy was standing near the nurses' station, leaning over the counter to talk to one of the night-shift nurses. Her school bag was slung