Chapter 21 Mikhail
MIKHAIL
After Claire walked out of the room, I stayed in my chair and stared at the closed door.
Chasing after her wouldn’t do me any good.
I wanted to. I was too full of rage mixed with an inconvenient desire for her to not go after her.
The memory of how good it felt to be in her arms taunted me to make that peace happen again.
But I stayed.
I finished my drink, brooding.
I didn’t know everything about this woman, but I could tell that she had a clinical, analytical mind. Both traits made her the excellent and pragmatic doctor that she was, but it likely meant she needed space to think, to decompress after a day like today.
She could have her space. And hell, it wouldn’t hurt me to diversify my worries.
Anya needed me too.
I got up and headed to the guest room she was staying in. I knocked and a maid answered, parting the door enough for me to see that my daughter was sleeping.
“Would you like me to go?” the maid asked.
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered back. “Please just sit with her so she’s not alone.”
Anya would do better with a woman tending after her and making sure she didn’t feel abandoned.
She wouldn’t want me in there. But I realized in a passive fashion that this young woman did need me.
She needed my protection, for one thing.
She also needed a father. A parent. A family.
Olga’s relatives had brainwashed her to hate me, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.
Slumping against the hallway wall, I slid down until I sat on the floor.
Letting my legs stretch out over the carpet, I set my head back against the wall and sighed.
Another drink would’ve been nice company.
Because as I sat here and zoned out, feeling oddly listless and unsure where I should be, my mind grew too idle.
Too empty. Too barren, so all my concerns could pool and congeal faster.
Every woman who mattered in my life pushed me away.
Olga had been scared to marry me, a token bride in a wedding that was nothing more than a transaction forced upon us when my father was dying.
That was the only reason I married her, for the political pressure he’d left in his wake.
I’d only been eighteen, almost Anya’s age, and it was too soon to even know how to be a husband, much less how to be a husband when I was taking over the family’s leadership.
My wife resisted being near me, only in my reach twice.
Both times resulted in our children, but it was a marriage in name only with Olga in Moscow, hiding from any mention of me, preferring to drink and fuck whoever was nearby.
She’d loathed me, all because her family wanted her to be able to break the betrothal my grandfather arranged when I was born, a deal my father insisted upon on his deathbed.
Before he died, he could’ve canceled it.
His word would’ve changed all the fate and the Volkovs could’ve sent Olga to Niko Popo instead.
But they hadn’t. My father changed history by expecting that old betrothal to be honored.
Anya wasn’t any different, conditioned to see me as evil and horrible. Since the moment she’d arrived, she’d resisted, avoided, and denied any connection with me.
And Claire? She wasn’t in any rush to change her mind about being with me, either.
It wasn’t fair that she had to matter this much already.
As a woman I lusted after. As a helpful role model to Anya after her capture.
And as a partner who could infuse some much-needed peace into my life when I needed a break the most.
She’s too good. Too innocent.
Again and again, I tried to reason with myself in this debate of whether she could ever stay in my life. As mine. With me.
Each time I rallied with the excuses why she should change her life to adjust to mine, I recalled her hard admission that it would only endanger her further.
“Before I ever met you, I was fine. I wasn’t a target.”
I couldn’t deny that. She had been “fine” on her own, prior to knowing I existed. And I wouldn’t take back what I’d told her, that I hadn’t chosen her to treat me that night in the hospital. It wasn’t my action that had me waking up under her care.
But it was my decision to let myself be intrigued about her. To long for her. To desire her far past any link that labeled me as her patient and her as my doctor.
Groaning at the hint of a headache blossoming, I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead.
There was no easy answer to any of this. And I couldn’t even count on one night of nothing to recharge and figure it out the next day.
Guards ran down the hall, prompting me to lift my head.
“Now what?” I growled as I watched Sergei hurry toward me with a couple of men.
“She’s gone.”
I didn’t have to ask who.
Pushing to stand, I sought my nephew’s face for more clues. “Gone? How? How the fuck is she gone?” I didn’t hear any alarms. If anyone dared to trespass, this entire building would’ve been locked down.
She left. That was the only other answer.
I gripped the front of the guard’s jacket, furious. “How the fuck did anyone let her go?”
“She lied,” he answered. “She said she was hurrying to get supplies for Anya.”
The urge to roar my frustration remained bottled up inside me. Red-hot anger consumed me, making my heart race again.
“Before I could check, she ran off. We gave chase but lost her,” the guard said.
“He raised the alarm, though, and I was in the control room to see where she ran,” Sergei said. “I ordered one of the men who are undercover near the hospital to look out for her.” He indicated for me to follow him, and I did.
“She went to the hospital?” I scowled. “But she didn’t need any fucking supplies.” I had all we needed here. Except her.
“It was a lie,” Sergei said. “She looked spooked and just wanted to escape.”
“Of course. Of course, she did,” I growled, realizing that when she told me she should leave after I showed her how her apartment was broken into, she intended to actually do that. I had been giving her space, but I wouldn’t have bothered if I knew she’d made good on her claim to leave.
“She ran to the hospital, but she didn’t stay long,” Sergei said. “Our men kept after her, but they were too far back on the block to stop her from going to the cops.”
I stopped short, staring at him with alarm.
“They took her to the station and she hasn’t been seen since.” Sergei cleared his throat.
“They took her?”
“A couple of Popov associates seemed to have taken her in.” He shook his head, looking angrier by the minute.
“I asked one of the spies to get in there, acting like a drunk bum. He got close enough to see that they’d forced her to treat a couple of Popovs they had in custody.
Not in custody, but it was probably the best they could do to pull them in after a fight near the hospital, a scrimmage between a few Popov spies and Giovannis. ”
“They made her help them?” I shouted, livid that they’d try to use her like that. I hadn’t used her. I gave her anything she needed and wanted, including myself.
Sergei nodded. “She was seen stitching them up while they taunted her and threatened to rape her.”
“Take me there. Now!”
He held his hands up, daring to challenge me. “We can head that way now, but I’ve already called for the lawyers to go get her out.”
“Get out of my way!” I’d be damned if Niko tried to use her. To take her from me. Subjecting her to those fucking assholes harassing her was too much of a crime to tolerate. Anything bad happening to her was unallowed.
“You can’t just go in there,” Sergei argued, walking faster to cut me off and lead me to a car waiting out front. “They own that fucking hellhole. They’ll pounce at the chance to bring you in.”
“Let them fucking try.” No one would stop me from keeping that innocent doctor safe, this woman I wanted to keep forever.
“No. Stop. Be rational.”
“Get out of my fucking way.” I pushed at him to reach the car faster. He didn’t quit, though, unafraid as he joined me. I couldn’t be rational where Claire was concerned, and that was worrisome. How could I lead if this simple woman could twist me into fear and anger like this?
“We are getting her out, Uncle,” Sergei said sternly. “By the time we get to the station, they’ll have her released.”
I gritted my teeth, slowing my breath and forcing his words to fit into my mind.
He was making sense. He was right. I couldn’t walk right into one of the most corrupt police stations in the city.
It was well-known that Niko paid those fuckers there.
It could be a trap to lure me there, and I had to admit Sergei was right.
But as we sped to the location then sat in the car idling at the curb, I was tense and impatient to see her.
She couldn’t have been gone for more than an hour or two, but it was too long of a break.
Too wide of a distance. Knowing she was near the Popovs and controlled by them in any way was enough to drive me insane.
“There she is,” Sergei said, seated next to me.
He moved to get out, gesturing for me to stay put in here.
Behind the tinted windows, I was hidden, concealed, but I had a full view of her walking out.
One of the best lawyers we had on our payroll strode beside her, looking pissed and annoyed.
He’d gotten her out, though. They always did.
I paid for the best and always got my way.
As Claire was guided to the car, though, she moved with an eerie blankness. Numb. Wooden. Not blinking and hunching her shoulders over.
“Fuck.” I gritted my teeth, hating that she’d had to deal with those assholes at all.
“Fuck this shit.” The wait for my nephew and guards to bring her to the car felt like an eternity of misery and suspense.
She was rattled. Shaken. Shocked. Just like that day when I shot that Giovanni trying to kill her in the parking garage, she looked like she was one inch away from a nervous breakdown.
If she hadn’t whined about leaving, this wouldn’t have happened.
If she’d just fucking listened to me and stayed, understanding that I was keeping her safe, she never would’ve found herself in this position.
Telling her I told you so wouldn’t make a damn difference now. They opened the door and urged her to get into the backseat, and I shelved the urge to scold her. If I told her that she shouldn’t have run, she’d protest more.
Maybe that would help, though.
She looked dull and lost, scooting into the backseat. I tugged her closer, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. Like this, she was locked in her mind and scared. If I pushed her to fight me, I could snap her out of it.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I asked, unable to keep my anger out of my tone. Hoping my arm around her would be the contradicting comfort she needed, I tipped her chin until she faced me. So she could see the fury in my eyes. “What the fuck were you thinking, Claire?”
She lowered her lids, unwilling to maintain eye contact.
Fuck!
I gritted my teeth as Sergei got in. With one quick glance at him, I saw that he’d noticed her shellshocked status too.
He shook his head slightly, again daring to tell me what to do.
To let her be.
To not push her.
All I could read from her was fear. This numbness meant she was losing her morality, sinking into shock and not fighting back.
This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
She was supposed to want to stay with me. To be with me. To lean on me and reward me by letting me have her goodness in my life to brighten it.
“Go,” I ordered the driver.