She Promised a Crying Girl Her Dying Puppy Would Live — Then Her Mafia Boss Father Kept Returning at Midnight and Stole Her Heart

Chapter 6

On the eighth morning, Bruno’s blood work came back clean.

June stared at the numbers until her eyes watered, then read them again, then called Iris in and made her read them out loud to prove they were real. The white count had stabilized. The electrolytes had settled. The puppy had eaten a full bowl of rice and chicken — the first real food in a week — and had wagged his tail hard enough to knock over his water dish.

She called Matteo, and the silence on the other end of the line lasted so long she thought the call had dropped.

“He’s ready,” she said, and her own voice was thick. “You can bring Giulia to take him home this afternoon.”

When Matteo’s voice came back, it was wrecked. “Thank you. God, thank you, June. I don’t — I can’t —”

“You don’t have to.” She was smiling so hard her face hurt. “Just bring her by three.”

Giulia’s scream of joy when she saw Bruno standing on his own — tail whirling, tongue out, the picture of pure, stupid, triumphant puppyhood — was a sound June knew she would carry for the rest of her life. The little girl dropped to her knees and gathered the dog into her arms and laughed and sobbed and repeated his name over and over like a prayer. Bruno licked her face, his whole back end wiggling, as if he understood exactly what the two of them had just survived together.

Matteo watched from the doorway, and when he looked at June, his eyes were bright in a way that had nothing to do with the fluorescent lights. He crossed the room in three strides and lifted her off the floor in a hug so fierce it stole her breath.

“You kept your promise,” he said against her hair. “You actually saved him.”

“He saved himself.” June laughed, breathless, clinging to his shoulders. “He’s a fighter. Just like his person.”

Matteo set her down slowly, his hands lingering on her arms, his face inches from hers. For a moment she thought he might kiss her. Then Giulia called for him, and the moment scattered, and Matteo stepped back with a warmth in his eyes that made her pulse drum.

“Dinner,” he said. “Tomorrow night. Let me take you to dinner — as a thank you.” He paused. “And as more than that, if you’ll have me.”

June’s heart did a thing she couldn’t name. Every sensible reason — he was a client, he was involved in things she didn’t want to know about, they came from different worlds — felt small and far away compared to the light in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said. Simply. And watched his face transform into a smile that made him look ten years younger and, somehow, even more dangerous.

Giulia came running over, Bruno clutched in her arms. “Thank you, Dr. June! You’re the best doctor in the whole world. You saved my best friend.”

June crouched down. “You helped, you know. Bruno fought so hard because he loves you.” She stroked the puppy’s head. “He still needs lots of rest and gentle care for a few more weeks. Can you take care of him?”

Giulia nodded with the gravity of a general accepting a command. “I’ll take such good care of him. I promise.”

“I know you will,” June said.

And when she stood, Matteo was watching her with an expression that made her forget how to breathe. They left — Giulia chattering about everything she’d show Bruno at home — and June stood in the empty clinic, lighter than she’d been in years, the impossible promise she’d made to a desperate child folded safe in her chest like a letter she’d finally opened.