Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ivan
Despite Ivan's protests, the doctors insisted Aliannah spent one more night in hospital. Aliannah was not strong enough to be discharged yet.
“As soon as morning rounds are done, we are out of here, darling.” Ivan lay on the bed next to her. Aliannah curled into him and drifted off to sleep.
It was just the two of them. Igor had gone to take care of business in Ivan’s absence, and Michelle and Gavin had gone home for the night. The doctors had tried to send Ivan home, claiming that Aliannah needed her rest. Ivan just glared at them. There was no chance in hell he was letting Aliannah out of his sight. The threat of Viktor was gone, but he did not want to risk losing her again.
At 2 a.m., Ivan was woken by Aliannah thrashing about the bed while she was asleep. She was screaming and crying, and her arms were flailing.
“Hey, hey, hey, you’re ok darling, you're safe, I’m here,” he hushed her and held her close. As close as he could without hurting her, she calmed down after a few minutes. It had been a night terror. Ivan knew the extent of her injuries; he had seen them himself when he rescued her and further when he watched the doctors treat her. He had refused to leave her side then, even when they stitched up the gash on her inner thigh.
It turned his stomach that Viktor had done that. He had wanted to kill Viktor all over again for everything he and his men had done. In the clean-up of the warehouse, Ivan’s team found a hidden camera that recorded everything. Ivan had watched the footage at least twenty times in the days Aliannah had been unconscious in the hospital. It made him burn with white-hot anger.
He couldn’t believe anyone could treat a woman so horridly. The disrespect, the violence and the lack of humanity Aliannah had endured, no – she had survived. He loved this woman deeper than ever. He was in awe of her strength. He would ensure she would never feel shame for what Viktor had done. The scars Viktor had left her with, both emotionally and physically. Ivan silently vowed to spend the rest of his life making this up to her.
During the days she was unconscious, a team of nurses had come in to clean Aliannah with sponges to help ease her trauma when she awoke. Ivan had refused to let them touch her. He took it upon himself to sponge-clean her. It was penance for everything that had been done to her. He had gently washed away all the grime and blood from her face and skin; the only thing he couldn’t do was wash her hair. He had brushed it as best he could instead.
*PING*
Igor messaged.
The garbage has been disposed.
The message looked like normal chatter to an outsider, but to Ivan, it was code for: ‘the bodies of Viktor and his men had been dealt with’. They were always careful never to put anything incriminating in a text and rarely spoke over the phone about their actions in case they had been tapped. Everything of that nature was always in code. Ivan replied
Make sure you mop the floor.
Igor would know what this meant: be sure there is zero evidence and zero DNA tying any of them to the scene, and burn the place to the ground if need be.
Ivan opened his camera roll and began to scroll through photos he had taken during the summer. He had taken so many sneaky photos of Aliannah. She was smiling, happy, carefree. He loved seeing the joy radiate from her. It was infectious.
He was certain that meeting her this summer had been the luckiest time of his life. People in his life rarely had the opportunity to find a good, honest woman, let alone date one. He was determined never to let her go. She was IT for him. There would never be another even close to her.
He looked down at Aliannah, sleeping beside him, and smiled. He could watch her sleep for hours. She snuggled in closer to him. A sense of pride filled his chest. This was his woman. She was his queen.