Chapter 51
51
Emery
I come around slowly, aware of pressure on my face and a rolling sickness in my gut. I’m on my side, hands and ankles bound together, and my mouth gagged with a strip of tape.
I’m in the trunk of a car.
The motion does nothing to help my aching head, and the vibrations hammer through my skull, each jolt setting off another deep, relentless pulse in my temple.
I’m spooning a smaller figure, his fragile body curled into mine. Even though I can’t see his face, I know it’s Desi. His breathing is deep and steady, but his skin is ice-cold, so I tighten my arms around him.
The faint chemical tang of ether lingers in the air, sharp and cloying, burning the back of my throat. My eyes sting, and I squeeze them shut, forcing back panicked tears.
Who took us? It wasn’t Dante. Now that I think about it, why would it be?
I’m not just a doctor anymore. I’m married to a Russian mafia boss. Who knows how many enemies he has?
My head pounds, my thoughts slow and jagged, like splinters of glass shifting beneath my skin.
I spent my life trying to be less in every way. Being a doctor was the only thing that made me feel like I was worth something.
I was furious when Leon forced me to stay in his penthouse, locked away like his property. But it wasn’t respect for myself that made me break out.
It was the thought that I, Dr. Emery Bright, might stop existing. If I failed those dying children, who would I even be?
Leon pushed me to see myself differently. But the second he left, I slid right back into old patterns.
Wandering around his apartment, I felt like a toy—a thing to be played with, then cast aside, left on a shelf to gather dust.
Dante made me feel that way. And I couldn’t— wouldn’t —let it happen again.
Jess’s call wasn’t just an emergency; it was a lifeline. A chance to prove Leon wasn’t wrong about me. A chance to reject the voice in my head whispering that he was.
The car slams over a bump, and my head smashes into the roof. White-hot pain explodes behind my eyes.
Desi whimpers but doesn’t wake. I bite down on a cry, my chest heaving.
God damn it. I drew the attention of a bratva boss. Me, the girl who spent her whole life trying to be invisible.
And now, Leon might die trying to get me back.
The image of him, cold and bleeding somewhere, slices through the hazy pain in my head, and a sob wrenches from my throat.
I wouldn’t want my husband to find me if it weren’t for Desi—poor, innocent Desi.
Leon’s the only person who believes I’m worth dying for.
And if that gets him killed… what’s the point?
I swallow the lump in my throat, the tape tight against my lips.
Leave it, Leon. Save Desi. But let me go.