12. Dimitri
12
DIMITRI
PRESENT DAY
I watch her like a hawk as she sleeps. I have to fight the urge to wake her up just to make sure she’s not in a coma again.
It’s the early hours of dawn.
When Briar and I first started seeing each other, we used to meet only in the quiet hours of the night. I’ve become accustomed to seeing her in the moonlight, so it takes my breath away every time I see how radiant she looks in the sun.
She stirs in her sleep, and her eyes blink open. She looks at Chloe first, who’s sleeping in a bed, snoring softly. And then she turns to me.
“You’re still here,” she says.
I hold out a cup of coffee toward her. She’s been waking up at the same time every day, so I had my men bring it a few minutes ago.
“What’s this?” she asks.
“Coffee,” I say.
“I don’t drink coffee,” she says.
“It’s your favorite thing in the world,” I say. “Apart from chocolate.”
She stares at the coffee cup suspiciously.
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I say, taking a sip of the coffee to prove my point. I grimace at the taste.
“If it’s so good, why’d you make that face?” she asks.
“Because you like to add freakish amounts of sugar to your coffee,” I say. “It’s like you’re trying to make up for all the sugar you missed out on in your childhood.”
The coffee is decaf for obvious reasons, but I still thought she would enjoy it.
She gingerly takes it from me, careful not to brush her fingers against mine. She takes a sip, watching me with those violet eyes the entire time. In the sunlight, I can see the flecks of blue and black in her irises. She’s too beautiful to be a mortal being.
Just when I think she couldn’t get more perfect, she smiles.
It transforms her entire face, making her eyes softer and that furrow between her eyebrows fade.
God, she’s gorgeous.
“Tasty,” she says, nodding at the cup. And then she does a little wiggle. It’s the cutest thing.
“I’m glad you like it,” I say.
Chloe wakes up too, yawning as she sits up in bed.
“I smell coffee,” Chloe says. “Did you get any for me?”
“No.”
“I would’ve been more surprised if you did think of me,” she says, watching Briar take another sip of coffee. “Wait, she’s not allowed to have coffee.”
“Why not?” Briar asks.
Chloe purses her lips and looks at me for help. We still haven’t told Briar about the pregnancy. She’s still a flight risk, and I’m worried that hearing about the baby will only overwhelm her.
“Because the nurses keep a log of your food and liquid intake,” I say. “And we’re not supposed to give you anything without telling them about it first.”
“Oh, okay,” Briar says.
She’s always been gullible. When someone tells her something, she takes it for face value. She never thinks about questioning whether they’re telling the truth or not.
I feel bad about doing it now, but the alternative is messy.
Chloe smiles at her little sister before looking at me.
“We weren’t allowed to have any sugar growing up,” Chloe explains. “It was one of my stepmother’s rules.”
“I know,” I say. “She told me about it.”
Chloe blinks. “Right.”
Briar takes another sip of the drink.
“Thank you for bringing me this,” she says, her eyes flicking to me.
“Of course, princess,” I say.
Briar stands and walks over to her sister.
“You can have the rest of the coffee,” Briar says. “It’s still hot.”
Chloe gratefully accepts the coffee cup, holding it between her hands like it’s the most precious thing in her life. She takes a sip and smiles brightly.
“Good, right?” Briar says.
“Very,” Chloe agrees. “We went way too many years without coffee.”
I really don’t understand the appeal of adding so much vanilla and caramel syrup to coffee that’s already sweetened by milk. But I know it makes Briar happy, so I’ll bring it to her every single day for the rest of her life.
“I need to use the restroom,” Briar says, walking toward the bathroom.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Chloe asks, throwing her bedsheet aside and standing.
“No, I got it,” Briar says.
I see that there’s a small child in Chloe’s bed. It’s her son, Aiden. He’s sleeping with his thumb inside his mouth. His cheeks are rosy because of the cold hospital room air, and his lips twitch in a smile, hinting at happy dreams.
I stand and walk toward Briar. I place a hand on her lower back, but she flinches from my touch. It feels like a spear aimed straight at my heart.
I step away.
“I can go to the bathroom alone,” she says, brushing past me.
There’s something about her this morning. She’s colder than usual. I watch her disappear behind the partition wall that separates the sleeping area from the rest of the hospital suite.
I sit back down in my chair.
“Don’t take it personally,” Chloe says.
“I don’t need your pity,” I growl.
“It’s not pity, it’s empathy.”
“Like there’s a difference.”
“There’s a pretty big difference,” she says. “And besides, I know my sister. When things don’t make sense to her, she goes inwards. She retreats into herself.”
“She wasn’t like that when I knew her,” I say. “She wasn’t so closed off.”
“Trust me, every girl has at least five different personalities,” Chloe says. “You’re just seeing the side of her that’s confused and angry. And if she felt comfortable enough with you to open up to you once, then I’m sure she’ll do it again.”
I know she’s trying to help, but every word she says grates on my nerves. I glance at her child again.
“Where’s the fiancé?” I ask.
“He had to go meet someone for work,” Chloe replies. “He’ll be back in an hour.”
“I can't wait,” I say.
Chloe rolls her eyes. “You really need to stop holding a grudge against us. If you want to keep Briar in your life, you must at least pretend to like us.”
“Easier said than done,” I say. “Things could have really gone south because of your man’s foolishness.”
“You kidnapped my baby,” Chloe hisses. “But you don’t see me holding that over your head every opportunity I get.”
I watch her for a moment.
She’ll never understand what it’s like to be in my shoes. She’ll never understand why I had to do the things I did.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” I say.
“What is it?”
“It’s about your stepmother,” I say. “As you know, my men have been trying to track her down since the incident.”
Chloe presses her hand to her throat. “You found her?”
“I know you think that you stabbed her?—”
“I don’t think that I stabbed her,” she says. “I did.”
“Right, and you also believed her to be dead,” I say.
“Yes, because I stabbed her in the chest,” Chloe says. “What are you implying? That I’m making it all up?”
“I’m not implying anything,” I say. “I’m telling you that Malorie Thorne is very much alive. And she doesn’t appear to be injured in the slightest.”
Chloe pales. Her eyes flick to the windows. I know who she’s looking for—her fiancé. For once, the cocky Italian man isn’t there.
“Where was she found?” Chloe asks.
“Australia,” I say. “I sent my men there to capture her.”
“Does Max know about this?” Chloe asks.
“No,” I say. “And I’m only telling you because you’re Briar’s sister.”
She reaches for her phone. “I should tell him about it. He’s looking for her, too.”
“Don’t,” I say.
She looks up from her phone.
“Why not?” she asks.
“He makes a habit of ruining things for me,” I say.
She blinks a few times. I don’t need to explain myself to Chloe.
She’s seen it with her own eyes. Before I abducted Chloe’s son and held him for ransom, her fiancé held my brother prisoner. They beat my brother black and blue, leaving him with swollen eye sockets and broken bones. He was purposely kept on the brink of death, being tortured for a crime he never committed.
Tears roll down Chloe’s cheeks. She quickly wipes them away.
If Max were here, he would have barged into this room by now.
“Look, I know that what happened was wrong,” Chloe says, taking a deep breath. “But I’m asking you to forgive my fiancé for what he did. We’re family now, Dimitri.”
“Apart from Briar, the only family I have left in this world is my brother,” I say.
Chloe stares at me for a moment, like she’s trying to figure me out.
I’ve made it clear from the start that just because she’s Briar’s sister doesn’t mean I’ll accept her family with open arms.
I know I should stop being so hard on her. My only beef is with a six-foot-four Italian mafioso who thinks he owns the entire world.
“It’s been a few minutes since Briar went to the bathroom,” I say, softening my tone. “Can you check if everything’s okay?”
Chloe nods, heading toward the other end of the room.
I hear a knock.
And then silence.
She knocks again, calling out Briar’s name this time.
Again, there’s no answer.
I don’t wait for the third knock. I cross the length of the suite in a few strides and throw the bathroom door open. There’s no sign of Briar.
“She escaped,” I say, gritting my teeth. “She’s been planning it all along.”
“How do you know that?” Chloe asks, starting to hyperventilate.
“Look,” I say, sweeping my arm across the bathroom.
The lack of water droplets in the sink. The hand towels immaculately folded in a stack, not a single one of them out of place. The absence of the jasmine scent of the motion-detected fragrance dispenser.
Briar was never here.
I hit speed dial on my phone.
My second-in-command picks up immediately. “ Da , Pakhan ?”
“Briar isn’t in the hospital room,” I say. “I believe she made a run for it. Secure the perimeter. Call for reinforcements and search every road in a five-mile radius.”
“We’re on it, Boss,” Pavel says.
I hang up and stride toward the exit door. This hospital suite has two sets of doors—one closer to the bathroom and the other closer to the bed. We keep one of the doors locked from the inside, and that’s the one she exited by. We weren’t able to see her go because of the partition that splits the room in half.
Chloe gathers her sleeping child into her arms and jogs to catch up with me.
“She could have gone to get a snack,” Chloe says. “She could be by the vending machine or in the cafeteria.”
“I doubt it,” I say.
“It doesn’t make sense why she would want to escape,” Chloe says.
“It makes perfect sense,” I say, stopping by the elevator. When it doesn’t open right away, I take the stairs.
I know Briar.
I know that once she sets her mind on something, she doesn’t stop until she gets it.
“What do you mean it makes perfect sense?” Chloe asks, struggling to catch up with my long stride.
“It’s obvious,” I say, racing down the stairs. “It’s so obvious, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. She was apprehensive of me from the moment she opened her eyes. She flinched at my touch. She averted her gaze. All of it points to the obvious.”
She remembers things.