Chapter 6 - The Name on the Hospital Badge
Eight months later, Hunter Russo walked into Manhattan University Hospital and immediately made three security guards nervous.
Black suit.
Broad shoulders.
Dark expression.
Visible tattoos disappearing beneath his cuffs.
He approached reception.
"I'm looking for Khloe Miller."
The receptionist checked the system.
"Third floor."
Hunter nodded.
"Thank you."
"Are you family?"
He stopped.
"No."
Then reconsidered.
"I'm working on it."
Upstairs, Khloe was finishing her clinical rotation.
Her hair was tied back neatly.
Clean scrubs.
Hospital badge.
KHLOE MILLER — NURSING STUDENT
She walked out of a patient's room and nearly dropped her clipboard.
"Hunter?"
He held two coffees.
"You still drink terrible coffee?"
"You remembered."
"I remember everything."
She took one.
"What are you doing here?"
"Foundation board meeting."
"That's downstairs."
"I got lost."
"You're a terrible liar."
"I've been told."
They walked toward the windows.
Khloe looked healthier.
Stronger.
But still unmistakably Khloe.
"How's school?"
"Three months left."
"Grades?"
"None of your business."
"Straight A's?"
She smiled.
"Mostly."
Hunter nodded approvingly.
"Foundation internship?"
"Starts after graduation."
"Interview first."
She laughed.
"Right. Professional standards."
They stood quietly.
Then Khloe noticed something.
"You still have the watch."
Hunter looked at his wrist.
The platinum Rolex.
"It survived."
"Unlike your Audi."
"I bought another."
"Of course you did."
"Different brakes."
"Smart."
Hunter reached into his coat.
Khloe immediately narrowed her eyes.
"If that's money—"
"It's not."
He handed her a small key.
She stared.
"What is this?"
"Apartment."
"Hunter."
"Before you start yelling, it's owned by the foundation."
She continued staring.
"Student housing. Six nurses will live there. You're one of them."
"So I'm not getting special treatment?"
"No."
"Really?"
"You're getting the smallest bedroom."
Khloe smiled.
"Good."
Hunter watched her.
"There's something else."
"I knew it."
"Dinner."
She blinked.
"What?"
"Dinner with me."
"We've eaten dinner."
"No."
Hunter shook his head.
"We've eaten while discussing assassinations, legal cases, medical grants, and whether you should be allowed to drive my cars."
"I should."
"You absolutely shouldn't."
"So what kind of dinner?"
Hunter Russo, feared by hundreds of men, suddenly looked almost uncomfortable.
"A date."
Khloe stared.
Hunter waited.
"You're asking me on a date?"
"Yes."
"The terrifying Hunter Russo?"
"Apparently."
"The Reaper?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Who told you that name?"
"Marco."
"I'm firing Marco."
"No, you're not."
"Probably not."
Khloe smiled.
"Okay."
Hunter seemed genuinely surprised.
"Okay?"
"One date."
"When?"
"Friday."
"Eight?"
"Seven."
"Why seven?"
"I have class Saturday."
Hunter nodded.
"Seven."
She started walking away.
"Khloe."
She turned.
Hunter lifted his coffee.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
He didn't need to answer.
She understood.
The river.
The second chance.
Everything.
Khloe smiled.
May you like
"You're welcome."
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