Another day, another cat getting neutered. A puppy getting vaccines and a rabbit in for a nail trim. I loved my job as a veterinarian, but even I could admit that the routine of it could sometimes be a little boring.

But boring was good. Boring was safe. Unlike my decidedly non-animal clients who often appeared at the end of my shift.

I hadn’t had any of those today—yet—but there was still a good twenty minutes in which some bloody, bruised or otherwise damaged person might come in asking to be stitched or cleaned up ‘under the radar’.

You know, for someone who tried her best to keep out of the mob life, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it. But I could hardly turn any of these men (and occasionally women) away. If they went to a hospital, they’d most likely get arrested or worse. I didn’t want that on my conscience.

Despite my father, Liam “Lucky” O’Leary, heading up the Irish mob, I helped out members of any of the mob factions in Las Vegas if they ventured into the Collins Veterinary Clinic, be they Irish, Russian or Italian. I often had people come in asking for help who weren’t part of any of the factions, too—recently, there had been an influx of Colombians trying to get a foothold in the Vegas underworld, so I’d started to gain more and more of them as ‘patients’.

Let’s just say I didn’t want anybody’s blood on my hands, so despite me not wishing to play any part in the mob life I was born and raised into, I had found myself becoming Las Vegas’ unofficial mob doctor.

Even I could admit it sounded pretty badass, which was precisely why I wished I could get out of it—the danger and excitement of it all could be addictive. But it was also a death sentence; all you had to do was get involved with the wrong people or be present on the wrong street at the wrong time, and you were done.

At least for me, since I patched up anyone who came into the surgery, I had been granted ‘immunity’—nobody wanted the woman who stitched up their men and prevented them from getting arrested to be harmed. And damn if that didn’t feel good, knowing I had that kind of sway within the Vegas mob network.

Ugh. Again, thoughts such as that were exactly why I had to get away. But I loved Las Vegas; it was my home. To move away and give it up would be tantamount to destroying part of my soul.

With one final clip of the scissors, I finished trimming my last patient of the day’s nails—a humungous rabbit named Hulk. Very appropriate. He was almost half the size of his petite owner, which always made me laugh when they came in.

I gave the rabbit a fond scratch behind his floppy ears. “He’s all done, May. Shall I book Hulk in for another nail trimming in three months’ time?”

She nodded as she hefted her gentle giant into his crate—which was built for a small dog. “Thanks, Kirsten. That would be great. Hulk will be happy he can scamper about again—and my boyfriend will be happy his nails stop scratching up the wooden floor!”

It was with a contented sigh that I collapsed onto the window seat in the exam room once May Waters had left, watching the sun slowly set with sleepy eyes. It was a long day, working two shifts back-to-back because the other junior vet, Rose, had gotten sick. The flu, apparently. I’m fairly certain she was lying; I vaguely recalled catching sight of her calendar on her phone a couple weeks ago and seeing her boyfriend was flying in to visit her over the next few days.

Not that I could blame her, of course. If I had a boyfriend flying in just to see me, I’d pretend to be sick, too. But that train of thought didn’t lead anywhere good—all it did was make me think of Rafe. Raphael Wilde, the youngest of the three infamous Italian mob brothers, now working as an in-demand lawyer after graduating from Harvard. We’d known each other for…probably as long as I can remember. And we’d been forbidden from ever acting on our yearning stares and stolen glances for…probably as long as I can remember, too.

But Katya—my newly discovered half-sister, now belonging just as much to the Irish mob as she did the Russian mob, married Matt, one of Rafe’s elder brothers and now had infiltrated the Italian mob as well. If she could be together with one of the Wildes, then why couldn’t I?

I sighed again, this time longingly. It would never happen. Rafe and I had been out of touch since I graduated as a vet. We did our best to avoid each other at Alex’s wedding to Faye and also Katya’s wedding to Matt, knowing that seeing each other would end up being painful.

Or we’d end up doing something we’d regret. How I wish we could have done something we’d regret.

But it was common knowledge Rafe didn’t want any part of his family’s mob life, and he was generally doing one hell of a good job avoiding it. Unlike me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he jumped on a flight out of Vegas and relocated to New York any moment now, never to be seen or heard from again.

Which was why I had to forget about him. But I’d been trying to forget about him ever since I was old enough to identify what the butterflies in my stomach meant when I saw him—and failed, failed, failed.

Was I doomed to pine after a man I couldn’t have, trying to find solace in short-lived boyfriends who simply couldn’t match Rafe?

Well, it was either that or my mob family scared them off. Probably a bit of both, to be honest.

“Kirst, are you done in here?” Dean Collins, owner and senior vet of the clinic asked as he rapped on the door.

“You know I hate you calling me that, Dean,” I replied, sighing a little as I moved from my window seat and walked to the door. “And yes, I’m done. Finally.”

Dean grinned; his sandy blond hair, pale blue eyes and flawless skin belied the fact that the man was just a couple years shy of forty.

If I look as good as that when I’m thirty-eight, then I’ll be one very happy woman, I thought, returning Dean’s grin with a tired smile.

“You sure you’re done? No scary gangsters coming in to get their arm stitched up today?”

Now here was a man who was decidedly unfazed about my mob background. If anything, he liked it. It meant his precious clinic was protected—as well as the fact that my non-animal clients brought in extra money. Or at least they paid for the supplies they used.

I shook my head no. “Doesn’t seem like there will be any today, thank Go—”

Of course, that’s when the front doorbell rang, signaling a new customer. I stifled a groan.

“I can send them away if you don’t feel up for it, Kirsten,” Dean said, frowning slightly in concern as he placed a hand up to my forehead. “You look as if you need to sleep for about three days, and it feels like you might be coming down with a fever.”

I gently brushed Dean’s hand away as I made my way around him towards the reception. “It’s better to deal with whoever it is now than risk what’ll happen to them if I don’t. And if I have a fever, you can blame Rose.”

Maybe she was actually sick, I thought. Sucks to be her if her boyfriend’s visiting and she’s chucking up in the toilet or shivering with a fever in bed.

“Your funeral,” I just barely heard Dean comment as I reached the reception desk. The person standing there was indeed a member of the mob, but not the kind of person I was expecting.

It was Katya.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she smiled at me awkwardly.

“Hey, Kirsten. I just found out you worked here, and…” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I figured I’d stop by and say hi.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean watching the two of us curiously, so I ushered him over.

“Katya, this is my boss, Dean. Dean, this is my…half-sister, Katya,” I said, the words still feeling odd on my tongue.

Dean shook Katya’s hand as he smiled devilishly for her—the guy definitely knew how to wield his looks like a weapon.

“The illustrious half-sister. Lovely to meet more of Kirsten’s family,” he said, “especially a beautiful woman. I was beginning to worry that all the people Kirsten was surrounded by were men.”

Katya laughed. “Well, that comes with the territory, I’m afraid.” She glanced at me. “Are you done for the day? I thought we could get a drink or something—get to know each other a bit more? I’ve never had a sister.”

Neither had I, although I’d asked for one for Christmas one year. “Oh wow, yes, please,” I replied, practically falling over myself at the thought of alcohol after a long, boring day in the clinic.

Dean laughed at the comment—even Katya let out a quiet giggle.

“I’ll leave you ladies to your drinks, then,” Dean said. “Don’t worry about the clean-up, Kirsten—I’ll get it done. And feel free to take the morning off, since we don’t have many appointments until noon.”

“And what if I am really sick?”

Dean sighed dramatically. “Ahh, with Rose off, then you’ll just have to force the sickness away.”

“Of course. I knew your concern was purely superficial.”

He thumped his chest with his hand. “That breaks my heart.”

I waved a hand dismissively, rolling my eyes at the comment. “Have a good evening, Dean.”

“You too.”

With summer on the edge of breaking, the early evening air was balmy, with only the barest hint of a chill on the edge of the breeze that occasionally blew by.

“Do you know any bars nearby?” Katya asked, happily linking arms with me when I offered mine to her.

“I hope that was a rhetorical question,” I scoffed. “I know them all…and not necessarily because they’re good places to drink.”

I knew most of them by reputation—and the number of injured brawlers they sent my way. One look at Katya confirmed that she got my meaning.

“Take me to one good for drinking but bad for fist fights…if there are any.”

Oh, I definitely liked my new sister. I could tell we were going to get on like a house on fire.

I ended up taking her to Cole’s—a bar with absolutely no mob ties whatsoever.

“I’ll have a double vodka and orange,” I told the bartender as soon as we reached the bar.

Katya laughed. “You weren’t lying when you said you wanted alcohol.” She looked at the bartender. “I’ll have the same.”

We ended up remaining seated at the bar as we talked—to stay close to the alcohol, I joked—but in reality, once we started speaking we lost track of time so much that we forgot to try and wrangle a booth.

“So how’s Matt? All good between you two?” I asked Katya after my third drink, feeling decidedly more relaxed than I was earlier on.

Katya blushed. “Very good. You know, after being in love with each other for so long but thinking there was no way we’d ever actually get to be together, it kind of feels…I don’t know. A bit unreal. Like I can’t believe my luck.”

Oh, that stung. I emptied my glass, thinking about Rafe. “I’m glad it could work out for one of us.”

“Don’t tell me you have a forbidden love for someone you can’t have, too?” She asked, incredulous but somehow not surprised at all. She followed suit and downed her drink. “There must be something in the water. So who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Who is the guy? Your boss?”

If I had had any of my drink left in my mouth, I’d have spat it out. “Dean? Oh, God no!”

“But he’s so charming! And he definitely has a thing for you.”

“He’s like that with every woman he comes across. It’s his bedside manner. Besides, the guy is twelve years older than me.”

Katya’s eyes widen. “No way is he nearly forty!”

“I know, right? The man’s clearly a vampire. Or a wizard.”

“Maybe he sold his soul to the devil, a la Dorian Gray.”

I snorted in laughter. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Either way, it isn’t him.”

“Then who is it?”

I paused, considering hard whether I should tell Katya. It may well have been that it was only a matter of time before she found out about the fact that Rafe and I both had a thing for each other from Matt, but…I couldn’t bring myself to talk about him. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

I sighed, looking at the time on my phone. Suddenly, I was exhausted once more—thinking about Rafe often did that to me.

“Nobody important,” I finally told her. “Well, not anymore. I really should get going; I feel like I need about fourteen hours of sleep, and I don’t want to spend my precious morning sleeping off a hangover.”

She smiled at me. “Understandable. Do you…want to do this again?”

I perked up immediately. “Absolutely! Next time, let’s do it when we both have a day off and can get utterly smashed.”

“Deal.”

As I walked back home to the apartment I lived in to stay independent from my father and brothers, I smiled to myself.

She might have been late in joining the family, but having a sister was awesome.