Chapter 341 - - 341
Rick stared down the barrel of the suppressed pistol. He didn’t blink.
Rachel Williams held the gun steady. Her hand didn’t shake. Her pristine white lab coat rustled as she shifted her weight.
"What are you doing here, Rachel?" Rick asked. His voice was flat.
Rachel kept the gun pointed at his chest for a few more seconds. Then, she let out a heavy sigh. She lowered the weapon, clicked the safety on, and shoved it deep into her coat pocket.
"I’m a doctor, Rick," Rachel said. "I’m a specialist. The hospital called me into the city to treat some high-profile patients on the fifth floor."
"And the gun?" Rick asked.
"The city is blowing up every other day," Rachel replied. "Car bombs, gang shootouts, assassins running around. A woman has to protect herself."
Rachel looked at the blood splattered on Rick’s shirt and hands. She frowned.
"Amanda is worried sick about you," Rachel said. Her tone was sharp and accusing. "She asks about you every single day. She checks her phone constantly. Why haven’t you met her? It has been days."
"I’ve been busy," Rick said. He didn’t want to explain the Alps or Corporate Oversight to her.
Rachel scoffed. She looked past Rick. She saw the shattered wooden door of Room 412. She heard John crying and whining from the hospital bed. She heard the faint, exhausted panting of Nurse Lisa from the corner.
"I can clearly see that," Rachel said sarcastically. "Your type of work looks very demanding. Beating up patients and terrorizing the hospital staff must take up your entire schedule."
"It’s a family dispute," Rick made a quick excuse. "Nothing you need to worry about."
"I don’t care about your family disputes," Rachel said. "But Amanda is my friend. You shouldn’t leave her hanging."
Suddenly, the heavy sound of combat boots echoed in the nearby stairwell. Shouts rang out. Hospital security and armed police were rushing up to the fourth floor to secure the area. The alarms blared loudly in the background.
"I have to go," Rick said.
He walked past Rachel, heading straight for the large glass window at the end of the corridor.
"The Grand Hotel," Rick said, looking back at her. "The rooftop restaurant. Eight o’clock tonight."
Rachel crossed her arms. Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "You’re delusional, Rick. I have a dinner date with my husband tonight."
Rick smirked. He grabbed a heavy metal trash can and smashed it against the thick glass window. The glass shattered outward, letting in the cold night air.
"Cancel it," Rick said.
He stepped onto the ledge and jumped out of the window. He dropped four stories, landing heavily on the roof of a parked ambulance. He jumped down to the asphalt and disappeared into the dark city streets before the police even reached the hallway.
8:00 PM.
The rooftop restaurant at The Grand Hotel was the most exclusive spot in the city. It was filled with rich businessmen, politicians, and high-class escorts. The lighting was dim and moody. Soft jazz played from a grand piano in the corner.
Rick sat in a private, crescent-shaped leather booth in the back. He had paid the maître d’ a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills to secure the most secluded table.
He wore a crisp black shirt and dark slacks. He sipped a glass of expensive bourbon, watching the entrance.
At exactly 8:15 PM, she walked in.
Rachel looked incredible. She wasn’t wearing her strict doctor’s coat or her conservative hospital skirts. She wore a tight, emerald-green dress that hugged every single curve of her mature body. The dress had a deep neckline, exposing a generous amount of her heavy cleavage. A high slit ran up her right thigh. She wore black stilettos and dark red lipstick. Her auburn hair was let down, cascading over her bare shoulders.
Every man in the restaurant turned to look at her.
Rick smirked. He raised his glass.
Rachel spotted him. She walked over to the private booth. Her hips swayed with a confident, mature rhythm. She slid into the leather booth, sitting across from him.
"You’re late," Rick said.
"I debated not coming at all," Rachel replied. She picked up the wine menu. "But my husband called. He had to work late at the firm. He cancelled our date."
"Convenient," Rick said.
"Don’t flatter yourself," Rachel said, looking at him over the top of the menu. "I only came because I wanted a good steak. And you’re paying."
"Order whatever you want," Rick said. "I have plenty of money."
"I know," Rachel said. She put the menu down. "You jump out of hospital windows. You leave bleeding men in the hallways. You carry yourself like you own the city. What exactly do you do, Rick?"
"I solve problems," Rick said.
Rachel let out a short laugh. "You create problems. You’re a thug with a nice bank account."
A waiter arrived. Rick ordered two of the most expensive steaks on the menu and a bottle of red wine. The waiter nodded and hurried away.
Rick didn’t want to sit across from her anymore. He slid out of his side of the booth and moved over to hers. He sat down right next to her. Their thighs pressed together.
Rachel stiffened slightly, but she didn’t move away. She held her ground. She was a mature woman, and she wasn’t going to let a college-aged guy intimidate her.
"Personal space isn’t your strong suit, is it?" Rachel asked, taking a sip of her water.
"I like being close to you," Rick said.
He reached under the table. He placed his large, rough hand directly onto her bare thigh, right where the slit of her emerald dress opened up.
Rachel gasped softly. Her eyes widened, but she quickly composed herself. She glared at him.
"We are in a public restaurant," Rachel whispered harshly.
"We are in a private booth," Rick corrected her.
He slid his hand higher up her thigh. Her skin was incredibly soft and warm. He squeezed her thigh firmly, his thumb brushing against the edge of her black lace panties.
Rachel’s breath hitched. She tried to maintain her calm, doctor persona.
"You think you can just touch me whenever you want?" Rachel asked. Her voice was steady, but her face was flushing red.
"Yes," Rick said bluntly.
He didn’t stop there. He moved his other hand up. He gently brushed the auburn hair away from her neck, letting his fingers lightly tangle at the base of her scalp. He tilted her head back just enough to catch her gaze.
Rachel didn’t pull away. She met his eyes directly, a playful challenge in her look. Her chest rose and fell smoothly. The deep neckline of her dress put her massive cleavage on full display.
"You talk tough, doctor," Rick teased, a smirk on his face. "You act like you don’t care. You pull a gun on me. But you still put on this tight little dress and came to see me."
"I told you, my husband cancelled," Rachel countered, leaning into his touch just a fraction.
"Your husband is missing out," Rick said, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. "He leaves a woman like you sitting alone. He doesn’t know how to appreciate you."
Rachel smiled. Her marriage was a boring routine. Rick was dangerous, confident, and completely unapologetic. It was a fun game.
Rick’s hand slowly trailed up her thigh under the table, teasing the edge of her slit. He leaned in closer, his gaze dropping to her neckline.
"Careful, Rick," Rachel whispered, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "We have an audience."
Rick smirked. He reached out and lightly traced the edge of her plunging neckline with his index finger. He let it dip just low enough to brush the soft swell of her heavy breast. He felt the heat radiating from her skin.
Rachel let out a soft, breathy sigh. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs under the table. The teasing was working perfectly. She was already getting wet.
"You like the attention, don’t you?" Rick whispered directly into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "You like playing this game."
"You’re too confident," Rachel whispered back. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. She didn’t push his hand away. She actually leaned closer.
"I have reason to be," Rick agreed. He moved his face closer to hers. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the sensitive skin just below her jawline. Just a tease.
Rachel tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. She was enjoying the back-and-forth. She wasn’t melting, but she was definitely having fun crossing professional boundaries.
"You should come back to my hotel room after this," Rick suggested, his voice low. "We can see if you’re as bossy behind closed doors."
Rachel looked at him. Her red lips curved into a wicked smile.
"You’re arrogant," Rachel chuckled. She reached down and grabbed Rick’s thigh under the table. She squeezed the muscle firmly, letting him know she had just as much control. "You think you can just charm me into your bed?"
"I’m definitely going to try," Rick smirked. He gently tilted her chin up, looking at her lips.
He leaned in to kiss her properly. He was going to shove his tongue down her throat and taste her.
Just as their lips were about to touch, a blinding flash of light erupted outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
A split second later, a deafening shockwave hit the building.
BOOM!
The massive explosion ripped through the lower floors of The Grand Hotel. The entire skyscraper violently shook. The reinforced glass windows of the rooftop restaurant shattered instantly, raining sharp shards across the dining room.
People screamed. Tables flipped over. The grand piano crashed onto its side. Fire alarms blared, and thick black smoke began to pour through the ventilation shafts.
Rick grabbed Rachel and threw her down onto the floor, covering her body with his own as debris rained down on their booth. Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling.
The explosion was massive. It wasn’t an accident. It was a targeted strike.
Rick coughed, waving the dust away from his face. He looked down at Rachel. She was terrified, her emerald dress covered in dust and plaster, but she wasn’t bleeding.
Rick sat up. He looked out at the burning restaurant. Chaos surrounded them. Sirens were already wailing down on the street level.
He let out a heavy sigh. He ran a hand through his hair in pure frustration.
He looked back at Rachel, who was shaking on the floor.
Rick shook his head in disbelief. He gritted his teeth.
"For fuck’s sake," Rick muttered to himself. "I literally can’t get into the panties of a woman in this city without a massive fucking bang."