This was always a careful balancing act of power, and Ivan was the master of it.
My wife wasn’t supposed to mean anything to me. There was no way I should care if she was out cold or hurt, or injured, or even if someone had fucking upset her. Yet, here I was.
Andrei had changed the woman he was going to marry. Bethany was no longer by his side. The wedding was happening, but with her sister, Adelaide. No one was going to hurt my wife again.
She released a moan, and I leaned forward, taking her hand. “Aurora,” I said.
Her eyes opened then closed. Opened again. I waited for her to get accustomed to the light, and she gasped, sitting up and wincing.
The doctor had given her enough painkillers to help manage whatever pain she experienced. I couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting.
Sitting on the bed, she squeezed my hand. “Slavik,” she said. “You came.”
Even though she was hooked up to wires, she wrapped her arms around me only to gasp as pain likely shot through her system from the bullet wound.
“You were shot,” I said.
“Ouch.” She pouted. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad. They were able to remove the bullet and it didn’t do any lasting damage. You’ve had a few stitches, and you’ll hurt for a short time. Not too long.”
She looked at her arm. “I remember.”
“Do you have any idea who would have shot at you?”
She shook her head. “No. Cara had to leave. She went first. Gus paid the bill and was escorting me out. We waited for the car.”
“Why wasn’t the car there?” I asked.
“You’d have to ask Gus. Is he okay?”
“He’s asleep. The doctors wanted to assess him for the damage.” Gus had been shot in the abdomen, arm, and hand. Severe blood loss had him fighting for his life, but I wasn’t about to tell Aurora.
“Why would anyone shoot at us? It makes no sense.”
“A message.” I stroked her hair back from her cheek. These feelings coursing through my body, I had no idea what they meant. They were coming thick and fast. She looked so beautiful. I knew she’d been pretty, regardless of what other people said. They always called her the ugly Fredo, but they clearly didn’t see her, not really. Even I hadn’t at the start.
Staring at her now, I was … enthralled. Even with the threat of death, she cared more about my men than her own welfare.
It was stupid of her, but after being around so many selfish people, this was refreshing.
“I’m so sorry for being a pain. It was only supposed to be a lunch, and now you’ve got all this to deal with.”
“You have no reason to be sorry.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt that.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It hurts, but it’s manageable.” She held up her hand. “Is that because of this?”
“Yes. You’ll feel it tomorrow when I take you home.” Now that she was awake, I didn’t want to leave her.
“You’ve got to go and take care of business?”
“Duty calls,” I said.
She nodded, and I hated seeing her physically withdraw. I had no idea what was happening. I wasn’t used to having feelings.
“I’ve got my men right outside the door. They’re going to be here for you. Nothing will happen to you.”
Nothing was meant to happen to her while she’d been eating lunch and yet, it still had.
I cupped her cheek, wishing to say more, but nothing would come to me. I wasn’t a good man. I didn’t do nice things. I’d never intended to take a wife. This was supposed to be all about duty and yet, I couldn’t seem to turn it off.
I stood up and left the room without saying another word. My men knew what would happen to them if they allowed her to be hurt.
Within seconds, I was out of the hospital, in the back of my car, being driven to the warehouse where the only shooter I’d allowed to live waited.
Aurora could have died today. I didn’t care about the treaty. Let the streets run red with blood. What I did care about was Aurora. The very thought of anything happening to her filled me with something I wasn’t used to: despair.
The wrong bullet today, and she could have died. I shouldn’t care. I wasn’t the kind of man to fall for a woman. I used them. Aurora was different, though. I knew from the start she would be. I just didn’t realize how much.
At the warehouse, my driver put the car into park, and I was out of the vehicle before he got a chance to open the door for me.
Buttoning up my jacket, I entered the warehouse to see the man hung upside down. His personal effects had been displayed on the table for me to see.