Despite my best efforts, I keep slipping in and out of consciousness.
The more I hold on to the sliver of light, the deeper I fall into the pit of darkness.
This situation is no different than playing a game against my body and obviously losing.
It doesn’t matter how strong the brain is. If the body can’t keep up, then it’s a wasted effort.
At times, I contemplate just closing my eyes and never opening them again, but then I remember that I have so much to do, too many places to go, and unfinished business to attend to.
I remember the promise I made to the weaker, younger version of me.
We’ll never be weak again. We’ll be so strong that no one can reach us.
And I’m under the binding obligation to keep that promise and never fall into the pit of hopelessness again.
If you’re low, you’ll be stomped upon and ordered around, but if you’re high…no one will dare look you in the eye.
And I will never, ever stoop so low again.
I don’t know how long it’s taken me, but I manage to open my eyes and not feel the need to fall back into slumber almost immediately.
My surroundings slowly come into blurred focus. The white walls, the smell of antiseptic, and the familiar scent of…lavender?
“Kirill!” My sister’s brittle voice sounds like it’s been plunged underwater.
My ears ring as if I’m stuck in the aftermath of a brutal bombing, but I fight the urge to give up and make myself squint. Karina’s small face comes into view, all messy with tears, a runny nose, and puffed-out lips, probably from all the nibbling she does whenever she’s anxious.
“Can you hear me? Are you okay? Viktor! Call the doctor. He’s woken up again!”
The word again confirms that I was, in fact, slipping in and out of consciousness.How much time did I lose in this extremely inconvenient situation? Worse, how much time will I continue to lose in order to become fully functional again?
Soft hands grip mine as Karina strokes them and stains them with her tears. “I was so worried. I couldn’t sleep and watched you every night and…and…I even…even came all the way here. If you’d died, I would’ve killed you!”
I smile, but the small motion triggers a throbbing pain in my chest. I cough, and that nearly makes me throw my guts up.
Fuck.
I was really hit in the heart, wasn’t I?
“Oh, Kirochka.” Anna takes my other hand, her eyes molten, face sunken as she brushes my hair back with her soft palm. “Do you need anything?”
I do need something, but she’s not the one who can bring it to me, so I shake my head.
She continues stroking my hair and pats my face with tears rimming her eyelids. If anyone was watching this scene, they’d think Anna was my mother. It doesn’t matter that we have a different skin color or that she didn’t actually give birth to me. This woman has given me more affection than my actual mother—who’s probably doing some satanic rituals to pray for my death as we speak.
The doctor comes to check on me and helps me to sit up. He does a few tests and some speech, memory, and mobility exercises. During all the time, Anna, Karina, Viktor, and almost every single one of my guards stack up at the entrance of the room to watch.
The idiots are leaving their positions to be spectators of an utterly boring show.
After the doctor finishes his checkup, he discloses the good news. There’s no permanent damage from the fragments that hit my heart, and I’ve also been recovering during the five days I’ve spent slipping in and out of consciousness.
I shouldn’t strain myself for the upcoming two weeks. I need constant checkups, and no surprise here, the bullet wounds will scar.
My men basically fight over who gets to buy the medication when the doctor writes a prescription until Viktor glares at them and pushes the piece of paper into Yuri’s hand.
As in, the only mature one who didn’t take part in the watching or the fighting. Maksim, who was the first to quarrel, insists on joining Yuri.
They’re both here, but their closest friend isn’t.
I know because I scanned the crowd earlier, and there was no sign of her fucking presence.
Not that I expected her to come back after what she’s done.
The doctor insists that I need rest, so Viktor kicks everyone out—Karina and Anna included, though he does use more diplomatic methods with them.
Once it’s only the two of us, he clicks the door shut and stands by my side like some fallen angel.
“Didn’t you hear the doctor?” I speak like I’ve gained a few decades of age. “I need rest. Pretty sure that means you should leave, too.”
He glares down at me. “What happened after we separated? Who did this to you?”
Interesting.
When I woke up to find myself in New York, I was sure that Viktor had followed me, saved me, and brought me back here. But according to his words just now, that wasn’t the case.
Was that dream where a soft voice was calling my name and crying not a dream, after all?
“How much do you know?” I ask instead of answering him.
“Nothing except that the fucker Lipovsky somehow got you to the hospital and called me from there.”
My eyes narrow.
What does that mean? She had no reason to take me to the hospital after she led those men to ambush me.
The thoughts that plagued me when I was getting shot weren’t losing my life, my ambition, or leaving everyone I cared about here unprotected. It was the very fact that she’d betrayed me.
And for one foolish moment, I actually lost all fight and surrendered to the implications of that knowledge.
But that moment has ended. That foolish, sentimental, absolutely illogical part of me was killed by those two bullets.
“Is he behind this?” Viktor insists. “Give me an order. Anything.”
“I want you to turn Russia inside out. Find him.”
His brow creases as if he hasn’t heard me right. “Why would I do that? He came back with us.”
My lips fall open. “He’s…here?”
Viktor nods slowly, still appearing bemused.
That doesn’t make sense. Why would she accompany me back to New York after that stunt? If she thinks she can fool me, I swear to fuck—
Pain throbs in my chest. Maybe the doctor needs to give me more painkillers so I can deal with this situation more efficiently.
“Is he not supposed to be here?” my guard asks in his usual suspicious tone.
“Where is he? He wasn’t with the others just now.”
“Probably training and punching things. He’s been doing that a lot since we came back. And you didn’t answer any of my questions. Did Lipovsky have a hand in what happened to you?”
The short answer is yes, but if I give it to Viktor, he’ll torture and kill Lipovsky without giving it a second thought.
It’s not that easy and can’t be that easy.
I’m the only one who’s allowed to deal with her.
No one but me.
So I shake my head.
“If it wasn’t him, then who was it?” Viktor asks.
“Mercenaries.” I tell him part of the truth. “They had masks on, but I recognized them from the way they handled their weapons. They could have been my father’s enemies or my own from the army.”
“I will look into this.”
I nod in agreement. “Make it discreet. I don’t want anyone else to dig into this incident.”
“Could it be your mother?”
“She’s not the type who sullies her hands.”
“Konstantin, maybe?”
“Maybe.”
Viktor clears his throat. “He…has been here every day since we landed in New York. It looked like he was consoling Miss Karina, but he visited even when she wasn’t here.”
I close my eyes and lean my head back. Viktor’s words barely register. It’s not my newfound life, my siblings, or my men who are occupying my thoughts.
It’s that bitter taste of betrayal that’s been clogging my throat since the moment I was shot.
That fucking taste is the worst medicine I’ve ever swallowed, and it nearly made me lose all my power.
But it didn’t.
I’m here now, even as I continue to swallow that god-awful taste with each passing second.
“I’ll leave you to rest,” Viktor announces. “If you need anything, I have three of our best men guarding your room. Just click the intercom button, and they will be here. If you need me personally, call me.”
I nod, still closing my eyes and seeing blood red. In the middle of the snow. The stark contrast makes my head dizzy.
“Boss.”
“Hmm?”
“Lipovsky’s here. He must’ve heard about you waking up.”
My eyes open slowly but pointedly. I stare at Viktor, who’s at the door, waiting for a reply.
Behind that door stands the woman because of whom I’m experiencing this irrational burning pain. And I’m not talking about the physical discomfort from the wound. That doesn’t compare to the constant squeezing in my injured heart.
“Don’t let him in,” I order. “From now on, Lipovsky is not allowed in my vicinity. Assign him to clean and maintain weapons.”
Viktor raises a brow. “Is there a reason for this?”
“Do as you’re told. I don’t want to see his face.”
“We can fire him.”
Of course Viktor would suggest a permanent solution to get rid of him. But I won’t release her for good until I get to the bottom of this.
I will find out the why and how and who. Especially the fucking who, and only when I’m satisfied will I put an end to this.
Until then, I’ll make her lose her mind with boredom.
“Just execute the order.” I close my eyes again. “Don’t let anyone in.”
“Yes, Boss.”
I was supposed to die on that snowy hill, but I didn’t.
When I’m done with her, Aleksandra will wish that she’d finished me off instead of taking me to the hospital.
