56. -55-
Nina
Malin didn’t die—at least not that night. The next day, I thought his final moments had arrived three different times. On the third, the word coma started floating around. And on the fourth, the multidisciplinary team of doctors met to discuss next steps.
Honestly, they were four of the longest days of my life.
I was never close to Malin. He wasn’t my friend or family. But watching Dorian slowly fall apart almost crushed me. He barely ate, survived on terrible coffee, and refused to leave Malin’s bedside for more than a few minutes at a time.
When he wasn’t staring at the monitors, he was talking to him, telling him stories, arguing with him, begging him to come back. Even Valentina, their mother, took some breaks and went home to rest a little, but not him.
A few times, I had to leave the room because I couldn’t listen anymore. I would’ve done almost anything to wake up that terrifying asshole and end Dorian’s misery.
Unfortunately, not even the best doctors in the country could do much. Malin was stable, but his condition remained critical. The scans showed no brain damage. Everything that could be repaired had been. All that was left was to wait.
And pray.
“Hello,” a thin girl’s voice stirred me from my thoughts as I watched Dorian, Zyon, and their mother talking with doctors through the glass wall. “Are you waiting for him, too?”
“For who?” I asked, staring into the bluest eyes I had ever seen, complemented by the long golden curls and a smile that brought dimples to her cheeks.
“Doctor Dorian,” she replied, sitting beside me.
Her teddy bear, almost as big as she was, took the seat on the other side.
“He often shows pictures to people in that room.” Her gorgeous smile widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand.
“I know because I follow him there sometimes.” A giggle slipped past her lips.
“When the nurse who always looks at her phone guards me.”
“Oh.” I smiled, matching her excitement. “So you stalk Doctor Dorian.”
Her eyes widened.
“What does it mean, stalk?” she asked, curiosity written all over her innocent face.
“That you follow someone.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “And they don’t know.”
Her mouth formed an O, and she clapped her hands.
“Aaawesome,” she chirped, stealing a peek at the conference room. “That is Zara’s daddy, right?”
I looked in the same direction. Zyon sat in the chair opposite a doctor who spoke, glaring at him with the same murderous glint in his ominous eyes that Malin usually wore when he threatened people.
Dorian just stared at his hands, not paying attention, and Valentina’s face showed no emotion at all.
Whatever the doctor said was bad. So fucking bad that I could feel it from the other side of the glass.
“Yes,” I confirmed mindlessly. “It’s him.”
“And where’s Malin?” she asked, my head whipping toward her so abruptly she flinched slightly.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, averting my gaze from her startled expression. “Malin is sick.”
“Does his tummy hurt?” She poked my hand with her tiny index finger, her voice lowered into a whisper. “He eats loooots of sweets and candies.”
Pressure built behind my eyes, and I had to blink rapidly to get rid of tears that almost fell on my cheeks.
“Yeah, something like that,” I whispered, gulping past the lump in my throat. “Anyway, what’s your name?” I changed the subject, hoping she would forget about Malin, but before she could reply, Dorian marched out of the door, pale like a sheet of paper.
“I need air,” he exhaled, almost running down the hall. The girl instantly jumped to her feet and rushed behind him.
“I’ll be in Malin’s room,” I heard Valentina say, and I stood up, but she ignored me exactly as she did when she found Dorian sleeping on my lap in his office.
She didn’t comment or demand an explanation.
She simply pretended I didn’t exist, which was somehow even worse than yelling and accusing me of poisoning her son.
“Is it that bad?” I forced the words out, watching Zyon’s broad back. He stood a few feet from me, but still glared at the doctors as if he were deciding a death sentence.
“He has to wake up,” was all he said before he turned on his heel and disappeared.
I exhaled heavily, plopping on the uncomfortable chair and hiding my face behind my palms. I didn’t know what to do, how to help. And the worst thing was seeing Dorian suffer.
If Malin ever woke up, I would kick his obnoxious ass for doing this to his family!
The buzzing of my phone cut the thread of my violent thoughts. Exhaling exasperatedly, I fished it from my jeans pocket, expecting to see Dad’s or Sonny’s name on the screen, but it was Lucas.
“Yes?” I answered, pushing my hair from my face.
“Just calling to give you a heads-up,” he said, tapping on the keyboard. “Your dad just sent more men to find you. Thankfully, he has no idea you’re camping in Dorian’s hospital.”
“What the fuck is he doing?” I hissed, straightening up.
Dad had been trying to locate me since our last talk, but was unsuccessful. He visited people personally, promising God knew what, to get information about my whereabouts. His desperation was palpable, but aside from the Zhumagulov family, Lucas, and hospital personnel, no one knew where I was.
“You know what he’s doing,” Lucas pointed out. “Just stay with Dorian. Maybe it’s time to tell him there’s an official hunt on you.”
“No.” I shook my head resolutely. “He has enough on his plate. I’ll deal with it.”
“How?” Lucas whined. “Your dad is dead set on marrying you to that asshole, and I’ve found nothing to stop it.” I could envision his exasperated expression. “I don’t even know who the mysterious people your family owes the money to are.”
“You’ll find them,” I stated confidently. “In the meantime, check the money in my trust fund. Maybe there is an option to withdraw it.”
“I’ll need your access codes,” he said. “Are you planning on giving the money to your dad?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, even though it was the first thing that occurred to me. “What if it isn’t just about the money? So many things could be behind it.”
“Okay,” Lucas sighed. “I’ll look into this while also looking for everything else. I’ll keep you updated.” There was a brief pause. “Any news about Malin?”
“No change,” I whispered, glancing at the door where Dorian disappeared through.
“That’s not entirely bad,” he mused, probably just trying to be supportive.
“It’s not good either,” I said, standing up. “I’ll keep in touch.”
“Yep, stay safe. Bye.”
Hiding the phone in my pants pocket, I walked through the hall to the other side, where the balcony entrance was.
Through another exit, the nurse led Aryna away while she pouted and constantly glanced over her shoulder at Dorian.
But he was too caught up in his mind to notice her sad looks.
His hands gripped the metal railing tightly, his eyes set on something in the distance, while his posture suggested he was seconds from breaking down.
I walked to him and hugged him from behind. My arms encircled his middle, my cheek resting between his shoulder blades. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed and exhaled deeply. We stood like that for several minutes, until his erratic breathing evened out and his racing heart calmed.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, turning around. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss on my temple.
“For what?” I asked, observing his worn-out expression.
“For being here.” He rested his forehead against mine. “You didn’t sign up for any of this.”
My hands cupped his face, and I stood on my tiptoes, connecting our lips in a chaste kiss.
“As your wife, I signed up for everything that includes you,” I muttered against his mouth. “For good and for bad, or whatever they say.”
A small chuckle escaped him.
“You don’t remember it, either?” He pulled away slightly, a tiny spark of amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure Lucas skipped it,” I blurted out, and instantly sealed my mouth shut, my eyebrows shooting up.
“Lucas?” Dorian raised a surprised brow. “He’s the accomplice? I didn’t know he had it in him.”
“Why?” I beeped, mentally kicking my stupid ass for revealing such important information. But Dorian didn’t look angry at all. If anything, he was impressed.
“Because he is everything but a troublemaker,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“If you said Matteo, I would believe it, but Lucas? Clean record, no transgressions, no problems with the law, graduated from Columbia University, and his biggest sin in the eyes of his family is that he’s gay. Do you really need to ask why?”
“His siblings never had anything against his sexuality,” I said, switching into protective mode. “Especially Matteo.”
“Yeah, but his father?” Dorian cast me a pointed look that expressed more than a thousand words.
“He was an asshole.” I rested my hands on Dorian’s biceps, noticing for the first time in three days that he had forgotten about Malin’s condition.
“You have no idea,” he confirmed, taking my palm and leading me to the wooden bench. “With a father like him, you start planning murder at sixteen.”
My brows furrowed. Lucas’s dad died under suspicious circumstances when Lucas was sixteen.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, but Dorian only shook his head.
“Nothing. It just reminded me that kids are capable of terrible things, too.”
I blinked in confusion and placed my hand on Dorian’s forearm.
“Baby, you’re not making any sense,” I said gently, searching his eyes that welled with tears. My heart clenched. It was about Malin again. I knew without needing confirmation.
“You know,” he exhaled, his gaze dropping to his intertwined fingers in his lap.
“Malin has saved my life more times than I can count.” My chest squeezed.
“But the first time was truly unforgettable.” He looked at me with a small smile that lifted one corner of his mouth.
“And it left a lasting scar on my poor soul.”
“Okay.” I crossed my legs and rested my elbow on my knee, propping my chin up. “Tell me everything.”