I shouldn’t be here.
If Papa finds out I’ve come to the hospital, which I’m sure he will, considering the thousand and one guards he brought with him—Kolya included—I’m done for.
But I managed to sneak out in disguise while everyone was busy.
I had to see Creighton one final time before I’m dragged back to the US.
I had to hear the machines beeping, signaling that he’s alive.
But he’s not awake.
From what little info Remi fed me, his condition gets more complicated the longer he stays in a vegetative state.
Remi is the only one who talks to me, secretly, monotonically, even. Like everyone else, he hates me for putting his friend and cousin in this state, but he also said, “I understand that you did it to save your brother, but I still don’t like you right now.”
That’s okay.
As long as I’m updated about Creighton, I don’t care if I’m disliked, hated, or downright tortured for what I’ve done.
And I think that’s exactly what will happen as I stare into Aiden King’s soulless gray eyes. They’re so much like Eli’s, both in their terrifying edge and in color, that it’s absolutely horrifying.
Actually, no. Eli’s are probably tamer in comparison.
After all, Aiden is the father, and he seems to have seen the world with those merciless eyes.
“I asked you a question, Miss Volkov. Do you believe apologizing is what you’re supposed to be doing after you shot my son?”
My spine jerks upright, half due to the shock of hearing his ruthless, deep voice and half due to the information he just divulged.
He knows.
I thought Ava said they weren’t going to tell Creighton’s parents the truth. Or maybe they just meant his mom.
Not that I mind. If paying the price for what I’ve done will bring Creighton back, I’ll turn myself in. Hell, I’ll do it even if he doesn’t wake up.
I made a mistake and I’ll own up to it.
But my family, namely Papa and Jeremy, would never allow me to do that.
“I…” No other words come out. It’s as if my tongue is tied.
“You’re what?” Aiden closes in on me, and even though he doesn’t invade my personal space, my heart flounders to the ground under the force of his intimidation.
Now, I can see how Eli and Creighton became who they are. It’s a given with a father like this man.
He appears elegant and has the poshest British accent, but deep down, he’s cutthroat and utterly scary. A little like my father and all the other members of the Bratva.
Only, he isn’t a mafia man, which makes his personality downright scary.
“You have the nerve to show your face here after what you’ve done?”
I shake my head, try but fail to keep my posture upright. “He stabbed my brother and I thought he was going to kill him, so I…couldn’t… I just couldn’t watch without doing something.”
“All I hear are excuses.” He glares down his nose at me. “You could’ve done any number of things instead of shooting, such as physically stopping him or asking Landon and Remington, who were both present, to subdue him, but you chose to take away his life. You chose the easiest and bloodiest option.”
“No…” My lips tremble and moisture stings my eyes. “I didn’t have time. Jeremy could’ve died.”
“And what’s so important about your brother? Does his life have more value than my son’s?”
“I didn’t say that…”
“You obviously thought it when you pulled that trigger.” His voice becomes blank, so emotionless that I shudder. “Is it not enough that your parents traumatized him as a child? Are you picking up where they left off and ending the life he fought so hard for?”
“Please…stop…” My voice chokes. “Please…”
“Why should I? So you’ll feel better about what you’ve done? So you’ll get rid of the guilt and live your life as if my son never existed?”
I release a long breath and let my lips pull in a bitter smile. “I could never feel better about all of this or forget Creighton. You might not believe this, but that bullet killed a part of me as well. The part who thought Creighton was meant for me and that we were destined to be together. I learned the hard way that he isn’t, and I haven’t been able to live with myself since.”
He narrows his eyes, watching me closely as if he’s peeling off my skin and inspecting what lurks beneath it.
Determining if what I’m saying is the truth or just a mash of half-truths and well-crafted lies.
When he speaks, the timbre of his voice has turned eerily calm, the deceptive, haunting type. “Know this, Annika. If my son dies, I’ll haunt the fuck out of you and your family.”
A chill splashes down my spine, but it’s not due to his words.
It’s because of the shadow that appears behind Aiden and clicks a gun to the back of his head.
“Step the fuck away from my daughter before I spill your brains on the floor.”
Aiden’s posture and expression remain the same, absolutely unfazed by the threat Papa not-so-subtly poses.
As if that’s not enough, he turns around, letting Papa hold the gun to his forehead. “Go ahead, shoot. This is the only chance you’ll have to get me in a position like this. Use it well.”
Shit.
Shit.
Is he crazy? How can he provoke my father like that when he’s holding a literal gun to his head?
He must know the type of man Papa is. He must’ve heard about it if he’s already aware of his implication in Creighton’s life, so why the hell isn’t he backing off as any sane person would?
Is he that fearless?
Because I have no doubt that Papa would pull the trigger and make good on his promise.
Before he can actually do that, I jump to his side, “Papa, no.”
My father’s face could compete with a statue—cold and unmoving. This is the type of person he turns into when he feels any of us is in danger.
When the great Adrian Volkov personally steps in and chooses to inflict violence.
“This man thinks it’s a good idea to threaten my daughter and I’m here to prove him wrong. Step back, Anoushka.”
“No! He’s in pain because his son is hurt.” I touch his arm, grabbing onto it for dear life. “Papa, please. Take it as if I’m begging you.”
I think he’ll shoot him anyway since he doesn’t take anyone threatening his family lightly.
He takes it seriously, mercilessly, and remorselessly.
But after a beat, he lets his hand with the gun drop to his side. However, instead of tucking away his weapon, he leaves it there, as a form of both intimidation and threat.
Both men stare at each other, or more like glare, in a war of unbound power.
“Talk to my daughter in that manner again and you’ll disappear as if you never existed.”
“Papa!” I shake my head at him. “I’m the one in the wrong, I’m the one who did this.”
“If there’s anyone who started this, it’s me,” he speaks to Aiden. “I killed Creighton’s father because he dared to touch my wife. I slaughtered him like a pig while he wailed and begged. I stabbed that scum and watched as blood poured out of his orifices, then I did it again and again, long after his body turned lifeless. And I would do it again in a heartbeat, with more stabs this time to make his face unrecognizable. I would bring him out of the grave he’s rotting in and display his head on a stick so the world would realize that my wife and my children are off-fucking-limits. I never wished for things to come this far, but I will not, under any fucking circumstances, apologize for protecting my family.”
“Neither will I,” Aiden says calmly, assertively. “I don’t give a fuck who you are and what type of demons you worship. If my son doesn’t wake up, I’ll end you and every last member of your dear family.”
I’m trembling like a leaf, not only at the escalation and subtle threats they’re exchanging but also at the fact that this situation could become so much worse.
Aiden is powerful, yes, but Papa is more violent, and I believe every word he says. My father is prone to become a monster if he feels that we’re in jeopardy. I witnessed that firsthand during my kidnapping attempt.
Judging by his stiffened posture and harsh eyes, he definitely thinks I’m under attack and won’t stop until that threat is out of the way.
And that threat is Aiden.
I’ve already hurt Creighton enough, I can’t be the reason behind his father’s death, too.
Think, Annika. Think.
I need to somehow dissipate this tension, but how?
Closing my eyes, I sway and let myself fall forward. Papa catches me before I hit the ground.
“Annika,” his low voice calls. “Annika?”
I force myself to remain slack against him. Through the small slit in my eyes, I catch a glimpse of him finally tucking away his gun before he picks me up and carries me in his arms.
Like when I was a baby and I thought it was a good idea to take his place and sleep beside Mom. He always, without exception, carried me back to my room. I still snuck to their bedroom first thing in the morning and when they locked the door? I would bang on it until they opened it.
Like all those times, Papa’s arms feel safe. Overly protective, yes, but still safe.
“My son will wake up, and when he does, I’ll keep him the hell away from your daughter and your destructive family. I suggest you do the same.”
“Annika is leaving UK soil effective immediately and I will make sure your son is erased from her life. Do not try to legally pursue her, for it won’t have any result.”
“If Creighton chooses to do so, nothing will stop me. Not even you.”
“Let’s hope we never meet again, Mr. King.”
“I suggest you pray for it, Mr. Volkov.”
And then Papa is carrying me out of the hospital, his steps steady, his hold firm, as if I’m weightless.
I feel him putting me in the backseat of the car and sliding in beside me.
“Where to, Boss?” Kolya’s voice comes from the driver’s seat as he reverses out of the parking lot.
“The airport,” Papa says calmly before he whispers, “We’re out of the hospital. You can wake up, Anoushka.”
I bite my lower lip as I slowly open my eyes and stare at Papa sheepishly. “You knew?”
“You’re good, but not that good. Besides, you used to pretend to be asleep whenever you wanted to spend the night in our bedroom.”
“It’s different this time.”
“You didn’t want me to hurt him. I know.”
“And I don’t want him to hurt you, Papa.”
“He won’t be able to.” A small smile grazes his lips as he ruffles my hair. “Didn’t know you were so grown up that you could single-handedly protect your brother and even me.”
“I’m a Volkov, too.”
“Yes, you are. That means, next time someone threatens you, you beat them the fuck up.”
I shake my head. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I were to hurt the man Creighton considers a father and a role model.”
“That still doesn’t excuse the way he talked to you.”
“Listen, Papa…”
“No, you listen to me. I know you like that boy, and you’re in pain because you had to shoot him. But that’s the keyword, Anoushka. You had to shoot him. By threatening Jeremy’s life, he gave you no choice but to pull the trigger. He knows how much your brother means to you, he knows you won’t hesitate to protect him, but he still stabbed him anyway. He’s the one who forced your hand, he’s the one who didn’t consider your feelings or the circumstances when he made that choice. So don’t beat yourself up for choosing your family or for making a decision you were forced to make. If he loved you, if he cared about you instead of vengeance and a past vendetta, he wouldn’t have put you in that position.”
A tear slides down my cheek, then more follow.
I see the reasoning behind Papa’s words, I do, but the only scene in my head is that of red.
Deep red.
A lot of red.
The only scene that plays in the back of my head is that of a pale Creighton hooked to machines, unable to open his eyes.
A ghost of his former self.
He seems like such a distant memory now.
The last day we spent together was a few days ago, but it feels like it’s been a century.
So much has happened between that sweet honeymoon phase and this nightmare that I can’t keep up with it anymore.
“It still hurts, Papa.” I grab a fistful of my hoodie. “Right here, it hurts so much.”
“It’ll hurt less with time.”
“You don’t even believe that.”
“It has to. You need to get over him, Annika. If he’s bent on revenge, then he won’t stop until he destroys you, even if it also means destroying himself in the process. Do you understand?”
My lips purse, but I nod.
“I need you to promise me that you won’t seek him out. In return, I’ll let you study ballet, give you the freedom you’ve always yearned for, and I will fight the entire brotherhood so you won’t be shoved into an arranged marriage.”
I can’t believe my ears.
That’s what I always wanted from my family—freedom to decide my own destiny.
I just never thought I would get them at this price.
“Promise me, Anoushka.”
“I promise,” I murmur.
Deep inside, I pray.
I promise to let everything between me and Creighton come to an end, but only if he wakes up.
Only if I’m sure he’s all right.
After that, I don’t care about my life.
“Good.” Papa nods. “Now, let’s go home. Your mother is worried about you.”
I nod soundlessly. There are no other words spoken as we board the private jet.
It’s not out of awkwardness or anything. Papa isn’t talkative by nature, and he’s probably giving me the space he thinks I need.
He and Kolya sit opposite me, discussing business.
A tear rolls down my cheek when I catch my very last glimpse of the island.
I’ve only been here for a few months, but I had friends, a nail-biting experience, and a man who gave me the world.
Right before I ruined everything.
Maybe it’s better that I leave, after all.
This island might have made me feel alive for the first time since I was born, but it also ripped my heart to shreds.
Papa’s and Kolya’s voices filter in the background as I force myself to drift to sleep.
As soon as we land, I’m ready to go home and cry into Mom’s chest. I’m ready to let her console me, even if I blame her and Papa a little for this.
I don’t blame Papa for protecting her, but maybe I blame them for giving birth to me, for letting me be in this world where the only person I wanted with my heart and soul is impossible to have.
And is fighting for his life because of me.
Once we’re in the car, I check my messages and choke on my sobs when I read a text I got while I was on the flight.
Remington: I thought you should know that Creighton woke up. He’s disoriented, but the doctors said he’ll get better with time 🙂
