The Devil Who Claimed Me

Chapter 45: Valentina’s fury

Remi returned to the clinic. He had barely set his bag down when the door burst open.

Valentina stepped in.

"Miss Valentina," he smiled, welcoming her. "What is troubling you this time? Please have a seat."

He gestured to the chair by the table.

"I’m not here for myself," she said sharply. "Where is Dominic? How is his injury?"

"He hasn’t come here yet," Remy said casually. "He went to see Mila first. And about his injury... He said it was nothing serious. It’s just a scratch."

A deep crease formed between her brows.

"A scratch?" she repeated. Shock, anger, disbelief – everything flashed across her face at once. "A bullet grazed his arm. He was bleeding profusely."

Remy blinked, caught off guard.

"I bandaged it myself," she continued, gritting her teeth. "I told him to come here immediately after we returned. And instead, he went to see Mila."

Fury tightened her chest.

Remy exhaled slowly, finally understanding the situation. "Mila hadn’t eaten anything for days. She was weak. Dominic called me to treat her first. If I had known he had been shot, I would have dragged him here myself."

Valentina silently tightened her fists.

"I’ll go check on him," Remy assured.

Valentina gave a stiff nod. Though she said nothing, her thoughts burned. ’He ignored his own injury and went to see Mila. Is she that important to him?’

Sting of jealousy pierced her chest. She could see that Dominic was drifting toward Mila.

’If this continues, he will completely belong to her.’

The thought twisted something ugly inside her. She turned sharply and strode out.

Valentina didn’t go to Dominic. She didn’t go to Mila either. Instead, she headed straight for the kitchen.

Two maids were preparing dinner. Their hands paused when they saw her.

"Who informed Dominic about Mila?" Valentina asked.

The maids exchanged nervous glances. One of them stepped forward hesitantly.

"I did," she admitted, lowering her head. "Miss Mila had not eaten for days. She was very weak and could barely open her eyes. She kept asking for Mr. Russo."

She trembled under Valentina’s steady, cold gaze. "I was afraid something would happen to her. When I heard he had returned, I went to inform him immediately."

Valentina nearly lost her control. Her hand twitched as the urge to slap her overwhelmed her. But she restrained herself at the last minute.

"How reckless," she muttered.

The maid flinched.

"Did you ask if he was alright?" Valentina spat. "Did you check his condition?"

The woman trembled, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

"No. You ran to him to inform him about Mila’s situation." Valentina was losing her control. She could hardly stop her hands from knocking the woman’s head.

"An outsider is more important to you than your king."

The maid shook her head, raising her tearful eyes at her. She opened her mouth to explain, but Valentina wasn’t patient enough to listen to her.

"He was injured. Do you understand that? The bullet could have pierced his heart if he had not reacted quickly."

The maid’s face turned pale. She had no idea Dominic had been shot.

"He needed rest, a proper treatment," Valentina continued, her anger rising with each word. "And instead, he was dragged away for something trivial. If Mila hadn’t eaten for another day, she wouldn’t have died."

The maid bowed her head even deeper. She regretted not checking on Dominic first.

"Dominic is our king. His safety comes before anyone else. Always." Valentina’s voice thundered inside the kitchen, and both maids jumped a little in dread.

"I-I’m sorry," the woman said with her faltering voice. "If I had known he was shot, I wouldn’t have disturbed him. It won’t happen again. Please forgive me."

Noticing her fear and regret, Valentina’s anger dissipated a bit. "Make sure it doesn’t," she said coolly. "If there is anything about Mila, you report to me. There is no need to disturb Dominic over every little matter."

The two maids looked at each other. They were clearly hesitant. But there was no way they would offend her. They nodded quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inside Dominic’s room...

Dominic removed his shirt carefully. His arm hurt. He hissed as he looked at the injury. The white gauze wrapped around it turned red.

A flash of the bullet flying over him crossed in front of his eyes.

They had received information that Marco had been hiding in one of his hideouts. Dominic had meticulously planned to capture him.

The operation had been successful. They had destroyed the hideout, seizing all the assets. But Marco had escaped. Before leaving, he had shot him.

Dominic had turned swiftly at the right moment, or the bullet would have hit him in the heart. Yet he had not been able to avoid it completely. It had still grazed his arm.

The knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts.

"Come in."

Remy walked in. The first thing he saw was the blood-stained bandage on his arm.

"You said it was just a scratch," he complained. "How could you be bleeding like this?"

He stepped toward him and put his bag on the side table. "A bullet hit you. And you are acting as if nothing has happened."

Dominic glanced at him. "Who told you?"

"Valentina."

"That woman." Dominic scratched his forehead. "Couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?"

"She is worried about you," Remy shot back. "We all are... And you... you are neglecting yourself! You could have died there. But you are pretending as if nothing has happened."

"This is not that big thing you all are making it," Dominic said dismissively. "I faced many more dangerous situations before."

"But to us, every time is dangerous. Now sit down and let me check you."

"Now you will boss me around. Fine." Dominic sat down. "I’m all yours now. Do whatever you want to do."

Remy chuckled. "Don’t say like that. Some people will misunderstand," he mocked, and Dominic rolled his eyes.

Remy carefully removed the gauze. When he saw the wound, his mouth twisted.

"Don’t make a face," Dominic grunted. "It’s not that serious."

Remy scowled at him. "You know more than I do? The wound is deep, and tissue damage is present. If you had delayed longer, an infection would have happened. How could you be so careless?"

"The bullet isn’t stuck inside," Dominic reasoned. "It just grazed my arm."

"And left a deep wound," Remy countered. "That’s a matter of concern. You won’t neglect it anymore. You need rest, and you will be visiting me regularly."

"Understood," Dominic agreed begrudgingly.