At dawn, rough hands shook me awake.
I groaned and tried to swat him away, but Rocco only laughed softly and leaned down, brushing a quick kiss across my lips.
The lingering fog vanished instantly. Anger flared so sharply I almost shoved him away—almost slapped him—but I stopped myself at the last second.
“Good morning,” he said lightly. “Did my sleepy little star finally wake up?”
I turned my head aside and wiped my mouth with clear irritation.
“It’s the weekend,” I muttered as I pushed myself upright. “Would it kill you to let me sleep?”
His teasing expression dissolved into concern. “You were burning up last night. You didn’t even notice. Get dressed—we’re going to see a doctor.”
I studied his face. The worry was real, etched deep between his brows. But I couldn’t tell anymore if it was meant for me or simply the role he was used to playing.
I didn’t argue. I followed him anyway.
In the clinic corridor, fate intervened.
We nearly ran straight into Antonella.
She was favoring one foot, moving carefully, her expression pinched with discomfort. The moment Rocco saw her, his entire demeanor shifted.