I’m a mess.
After I cried my eyes out upon hearing about Kirill’s slim chances of survival, I haven’t been able to fully gather myself together.
The only reason I don’t crumble is because I can’t leave Kirill alone. If I do, he might be in more danger. Yes, Uncle Albert left, but that doesn’t mean he or his men won’t come back.
I’ve been standing guard in front of the ICU the whole time, then when I get tired, I sit down. I haven’t left to change my clothes or wash my hands, not even when the nurses asked me to. So they brought me some disinfectant wipes to at least get the blood off my hands.
It’s been five hours since I heard the news, and only now has the doctor come back to check on him.
I wait on pins and needles, but when he returns, there’s no change in his expression.
“He’s still unconscious, but that’s not out of the ordinary,” he says before I can ask anything.
“Can I see him?”
“Not unless you’re a family member.”
“I’m…” I can’t even lie and say I’m his girlfriend since I look like a damn man. “His cousin.”
He eyes me suspiciously probably because Kirill and I look nothing alike. However, the doctor nods and points down the hall. “Take a left, and the nurse will direct you.”
“Thank you.”
I’m about to head there, but the doctor blocks my path. “As I mentioned earlier, we have to report gunshot wounds to the authorities. The police will be here shortly and will have questions for you.”
I nod, not really thinking about the police right now. I’ll manage to mislead them when it’s time.
Before I’m allowed to see Kirill, I clean up and change into fresh clothes from my backpack. After I’m done, I follow the nurse with heavy steps.
She leaves once we reach the window, through which I can see him. A large ball clings to the back of my throat, and I suppress a sob at the view in front of me.
Everything is white—the lights, the bed, the bandages covering his naked chest. Even his skin is pasty, making the dark tattoos contrast harshly against it.
His face is too colorless, too lifeless, as if he’s given up and is already crossing to the other side.
My hands touch the glass slowly, carefully, as if I’m actually stroking his cheek. “I’m sorry, Kirill. I’m so sorry…if I’d known…I wouldn’t have come, I would’ve listened to you and stayed, I would’ve…”
I curl my fingers on the glass, knowing full well that any excuse I offer or what-ifs I think of are futile. It all happened, and Kirill is fighting for his life because of me. That’s the truth that I can’t change no matter what I do.
That knowledge doesn’t erase my sense of culpability and frustration, though.
I taste salt, and I realize I’m crying again. What’s wrong with me today? Since when did I become a crybaby?
My body is just not able to contain all the emotional turmoil inside me. The regrets, the adrenaline, and especially the feeling of being torn between my family and my strong sense of loyalty to Kirill.
I don’t know if this type of loyalty started in the army or after he saved my life or even after I went to New York and became close to him on more than one level, but the loyalty is there.
Which is ironic since I brought him to this state.
“Please come back, Kirill. I beg you.”
I don’t want to think of the possibility of him being gone. That’s simply not allowed. I’ve known him for about a year, and while that might not seem like a long time, it feels like forever.
I just can’t imagine my life without him in it.
Worse, I’m starting to forget how I lived before he came along.
And if he’s gone, I have no idea how I will be able to cope or survive.
“You have all these plans to rise to the top, right?” I murmur as if he can hear me. “You’ll go so high, people will break their necks looking up at you. You’ll build and smash as many houses of cards as possible, just because you can. You have too many plans and things to do, so you can’t just give up on them now… Also, Karina will lose whatever progress she’s made if something happens to you. She really loves you but doesn’t have the confidence to express it, because she’s scared you might leave again. I think Konstantin loves you, too, but he’s just badly misguided by your mother… And Viktor…what will happen to your shadow if you’re gone? He can’t be anyone else’s shadow after he’s invested so many years in you. And Anna…she’ll be devastated. Yuri, Maksim, and the rest of the men, too. They respect you because they see you as a role model. Not because they’re scared of you… All these people depend on you, so you can’t leave…”
I’m blabbering and bawling again until I can only see him through blurred vision.
“Sir…”
As I raise my head at the nurse’s voice, I use the sleeve of my jacket to wipe my eyes. I imagine they’re probably bloodshot and red since she double-checks me before continuing, “You have visitors outside.”
Probably the police.
After taking one last look at Kirill, I stroke the glass as if I’m caressing his face, then leave the ICU area.
The moment I step outside, my cheek flies to the side due to a ruthless slap. I freeze in place as none other than Babushka comes into view, accompanied by my uncle, who’s changed into a casual shirt, pants, and a heavy coat.
My grandmother is a short woman with a square face and gray hair that’s gathered in a stiff bun. Her wrinkles form a map of the decades she’s lived on this earth. She’s dressed in a conservative gray knee-length dress with a thick golden brooch on her chest. A matching necklace, bracelet, and the family ring complete the look. Oh, and the cane that she’s tapping on the floor.
I always knew my grandmother didn’t prefer me over my cousins or brother, but this is the first time she’s looked at me with pure contempt.
“Mother…” My uncle tries to pull her back, but she pushes him away and hits her cane on the floor again.
“How dare you stop our revenge on that rotten family?” she asks with an extremely upper-class Russian accent—the way I used to speak before I joined the army and had to lose it.
My shoulders hunch like every time I’m scolded by her. I’ve always worked for Babushka’s approval but have never gotten it, which makes me lack confidence whenever I’m in front of her.
The cane with a golden strip and a crow’s head in her wrinkly hand has been the bane of my existence. I, more often than not, got hit by that when I was growing up.
Sometimes, even hearing it tapping on the ground is enough to start a ticking sound at the back of my head.
I swallow twice before I’m able to speak. “Kirill has nothing to do with our revenge.”
The cane swishes in the air before it crashes against my side, and I wince, but I don’t move out of the way. “So you are switching sides now?”
“No. But I won’t allow anyone to kill him.”
“You’re defending him with everything in you. I wonder how he’ll react if he finds out you’re an Ivanov.” She lifts her nose in the air. “He and his father did everything in their power to eliminate us. Do you think he’ll take the knowledge of survivors lightly?”
“He’s not like that.” And I mean it. Kirill might be ruthless, but he cares about Karina and Anna. He wouldn’t hurt children, no matter what the agenda is.
“Sasha,” my uncle starts. “You are in denial, and that won’t only be a threat to your life but to ours as well. I need to kill Kirill while he’s alone and defenseless. We’ll never have a chance like this one again.”
“No.” The word comes out too raw and guttural, and definitely not in the way I’d usually speak to the two most revered members of my family.
“What did you just say?” Babushka asks in an incredulous tone.
“I said no. You have no proof. Besides, Uncle, didn’t you say the one who ordered the hit was a higher-up in the military? Didn’t I enlist to find him?”
“The one who executed the hit was in the military,” Uncle says. “I didn’t know his name at the time, but I found out from trusted sources after Roman’s death that he was General Abram Kuzmin. But here’s the thing. Before I could get to him, he was found mysteriously murdered in the streets of Moscow not long after Kirill became the head of the Morozov family. Do you think it’s a coincidence that the lone witness to Roman’s deeds was killed after he died? The only one who could’ve ordered that hit is Kirill. Roman has no reason to hide information after his death. His son, however, is going to great lengths to cover up his tracks.”
My mind is about to explode from the onslaught of information, but I still shake my head. “He has nothing to gain from eliminating a witness to a murder when he thinks the entire family was killed, which means your source is unreliable. You don’t know Kirill, but I do. He’s not the type who does anything unless there’s some sort of gain.”
“How dare you defend him in front of my face, you preposterous child!”
“I’m sorry, but I won’t allow you to hurt him, Babushka.”
“Go do your thing, Albert.” She hits me with the cane on my other side and pushes. “Move out of the way.”
I seize hold of her cane for the first time in my life. My hand trembles, but I lift my chin and continue to stand tall. “I said no.”
“Sasha, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Uncle says.
“If you want to kill Kirill, you’ll have to kill me first.”
“Sasha!”
“Aleksandra!” Babushka screeches, pulling her cane from my fingers and stomping it on the ground. “I should’ve known a girl would be good for nothing. You’ve fallen for the monster, haven’t you?”
“N-no.” I clear my throat. “He’s my savior, and I refuse to betray him.”
“If you don’t move out of the way,” she warns. “Mark my words, Aleksandra Ivanova, I will disown you.”
I pause, my fingers shaking and my heart thumping so loudly, I can hear it in my ears.
Sweat breaks out on my temples and upper lip as I stare at my grandmother.
The thought of being a stranger to my family rips my chest open, but no more than the mere thought of losing Kirill.
So I stand there, unmoving.
“Sasha,” Uncle pleads, but I shake my head.
“You are dead to me,” Babushka says with another stomp of her cane. “I will think that you were killed that day with everyone else.”
Then she turns around and leaves, hitting her cane on the ground all the way. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t let them loose.
“It’s not too late to fix it, Sashenka,” Uncle says gently, pleadingly almost. “Do the right thing.”
“Killing my savior is not the right thing. Far from it.”
“This is not over even if I walk away right now. I will come back for Kirill’s life. It’s my duty toward this family. If you decide to stop me, be ready to kill me.” His eyes soften, and he releases a long sigh. “I wish I’d never sent you to the army.”
Then he follows Babushka out.
As I watch their retreating backs, a part of me rips through my chest, spills out in front of me, and dies a slow death.
The worst part is that I can’t do anything about it.
I’ve always thought I’d be with them for the rest of my life, but now, it feels like everything was for nothing.
I don’t pause to wallow in misery for too long, though. I need to get Kirill out of this hospital. Now.
If Uncle said he’ll come back, he means it. And this time, one of us really has to die.
I run to the hospital’s public phone and dial the number I learned by heart.
“Who is this?” Viktor’s gruff, tension-filled voice sounds from the other end.
“It’s me. Sasha.”
“Lipovsky, you fucking fucker! What happened to Boss? I knew he was following you after your impromptu visit to Russia. I went searching for him, and although it took me hours, I only found traces of blood. That blood better not be his, or I swear to fuck—”
“It’s his. He was shot, and he’s in the ICU at the local hospital.”
“What the fuck—”
“Listen to me, Viktor,” I cut him off and lean closer to the phone. “His life is in immediate danger. You need to make the arrangements to fly him out of here now. I’ll remain on guard until you have everything sorted. Hurry. His life depends on it.”
“Are you the reason he was shot?” he asks with frightening calm.
I bite my lower lip and then quickly release it. “That’s not important right now—”
“Are you?”
“No.” Lie. I was completely the reason behind it, though indirectly. But if I tell Viktor that, he’ll separate me from Kirill, and I can’t have that.
He inhales sharply. “Now, you listen to me, motherfucker. You will guard him with your life until I get there. Once I do, you better not show your face, or I will punch you on sight.”
I tighten my hand on the phone, but I don’t say anything.
It doesn’t matter if Viktor, Kirill, and everyone else hate me as long as I can get him to safety.
