Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
AVELINA
Viktor has been quiet since he got back last night. I know things didn’t go as planned—and that he’s still not found Gennady.
I try to push that all to one side and concentrate on Sofia.
Queenie is hiding under the couch, her green eyes watchful and wary. And Sofia is upset because Queenie hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday.
“I think she might be unwell again,” Viktor says.
Sofia looks like she’s about to cry. “She must be very, very, very hungry. She didn’t eat dinner yesterday.
And no breakfast or lunch today.” My little girl is also starting to flap her hands a little, and I can tell she’s getting stressed.
Sofia doesn’t handle emotions well sometimes, and it’s clear how much she loves Queenie.
“I’ve got an idea,” Viktor murmurs and disappears into the kitchen while Sofia and I keep an eye on Queenie.
Forty minutes later, Viktor returns. He crouches down awkwardly in front of Queenie. This massive, terrifying man—tattoos climbing his neck, muscles bulging beneath a black T-shirt—is moving like Queenie’s made of the most fragile glass.
He holds out what looks like an iced popsicle.
“What’s that?” Sofia asks as her brow scrunches.
“I looked up a recipe for cat treats. It’s a tuna popsicle. Queenie loves tuna, so I’m hoping it’ll persuade her to eat a little, and then we can take her to see the vet.”
A small smile tugs up my lips.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft. His palm rests flat on the floor, waiting. He doesn’t push. Doesn’t coax. Just…waits.
Queenie sniffs the air, her little pink nose twitching, before creeping forward a centimeter at a time.
My chest feels tight, and I hold my breath as I watch.
She edges forward, finally bumping her head against Viktor’s hand to tell him that she trusts him, and his whole face transforms. And a tiny, almost invisible smile flickers over his lips, like sunlight breaking through stormy gray clouds.
Then he stays perfectly still as Queenie cautiously licks the tuna popsicle, looking up at him with wide eyes as he gazes at her with pure affection on his face.
I swallow hard, my throat aching. People see his scars and his ink, and they think he’s fierce. They see his coldness, and they think he doesn’t feel. But this, this right here, is who he really is. A man with a heart so big he hides it—because the world would tear him apart if he didn’t.
Viktor saw how Queenie was struggling, and he wanted to help her. And he saw how stressed Sofia was becoming, and he also wanted to make her less worried. I love how Viktor looks out for Queenie and Albert, and I also adore how he looks out for my kids.
As Queenie continues licking the popsicle, Sofia giggles softly, clutching her stuffed toy. Viktor glances back at her, and his expression melts even more.
My heart twists.
This dangerous, guarded man would burn down the world to keep my daughter safe.
I can see it in the way he looks at her.
And maybe…in the way he looks at me, too.
My phone rings just after breakfast the next day. I answer on the third ring, my heart already pounding when I see the number. It’s the vet.
“Hi, this is Dr. Angela from Cooper Veterinary Clinic. Am I speaking to Avelina?” Her voice is soft, gentle. It raises the hairs on the back of my neck in warning.
“Yes. How’s Queenie doing?”
“I wasn’t able to get hold of Viktor just now.” I know that he’s in a meeting with Grigory and Matvey at the moment. “But I also have your number, so I thought I’d try you. I’m calling about Queenie’s test results. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
My stomach drops, and I sink down on the edge of the bed as the words sink in. “How serious is it?”
There’s a pause, and I know it’s going to be bad.
“Unfortunately, she has what we call a subaortic stenosis. It’s a condition where the area just below the aortic valve becomes narrowed, impeding blood flow from the heart to the body.
We’ve started her on some medication, and we’ll be monitoring the situation closely for the next forty-eight hours.
There is a specialist surgeon in New York who might be able to help—if he has a free appointment and if we can get her there in time.
You shouldn’t get your hopes up, though.
He’s very busy and in demand. And I’m afraid you should prepare yourself for the worst, just in case.
I’m so sorry that I don’t have better news. ”
My throat tightens. The pit in my stomach grows to nauseating levels. This is going to devastate Sofia and Viktor. It’s already devastating me.
“We’ll keep you posted if anything changes. Is this still a good number to reach you at?”
“It is, and…thank you,” I manage to get out before the call ends.
I’m left staring at the phone.
A few minutes later, my gaze lifts. I blink to find Viktor standing in the doorway.
He doesn’t say anything, just watches me. His body is tight and tense, like he’s bracing for an explosion.
“I… That was the vet. It’s Queenie’s heart.
They’re doing everything they can right now to help her.
But the vet said it’s bad. They have her on medicine right now and said a specialist might be able to help, but he’s in New York.
They’re going to check to see if he has any availability but said not to get our hopes up because he’s very busy… ”
There’s a small flicker in his eyes, a ripple beneath the surface I’ve gotten pretty good at catching.
Sofia walks in behind him, her hair down and ready to be put into pigtails. She looks at us, and somehow, I think she knows.
“Did something bad happen?” she asks.
I blink, chewing my lip. “That was the vet.”
“Is Queenie okay?” Her voice is softer now, hopeful but cracked.
I wave her over to me and sit her down beside me on the bed so I can do her hair. I try to explain everything the best I can. Mindlessly, I brush her hair, trying to find the right words that won’t hurt her too much. But there really aren’t any.
“She’s still sick, baby,” I say gently. “Really sick. They’re going to keep her for a few more days.”
Sofia’s body crumples, and I don’t need the mirror to know her face has too.
She bolts from the bed, one pigtail half done, and straight into Viktor.
He doesn’t even hesitate this time to catch her, lifting her up into his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hugs her tight. The kind of hug I give to calm and regulate her. Almost like he needs it too.
And she sobs, tiny fists curling into his dark shirt.
Neither of them says anything. Viktor just holds her tighter.
And my heart aches just watching them.
He brings her to the armchair by the dresser, cradling her softly in his lap.
One hand strokes her back, and the other rests on her head.
His eyes are far away, like he’s somewhere deep inside his mind.
It’s hurting him deeply too. He’s just better at disguising it than Sofia is.
He doesn’t have to say it, not that he will.
But I can see it. The stillness in his body. It breaks my heart.
After Sofia has calmed in Viktor’s lap, he gently lays her on the bed, covering her with her weighted blanket and brushing the hair from her forehead.
We leave Sofia to rest for a little while, and we go downstairs to the den. There, Viktor paces like a wild cat in a cage.
“Did they give you the name of the specialist?” he asks, pulling out his phone. “Where is he in New York? How fast can he get here?”
“Viktor—”
“I’ll get him on the next flight. Whatever we need to do.”
His voice is clipped. Focused. Razor sharp and to the point.
But I watch his hands tremble as he speaks. And I can see he’s starting to spiral into anxiety and panic—I can recognize the signs now.
I step closer, gently resting a hand on his arm. “Breathe. She’s in good hands right now.”
He turns to me, eyes burning. “Sofia needs her. I can’t sit here and do nothing. Not while Sofia is breaking apart into tiny pieces.”
My throat tightens. This is how he loves. He moves mountains. He shows you instead of using words. His love is not loud or obvious in the normal way. His love is quiet and attentive—but it’s definitely fierce and protective.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s see what we can do.”
“What do you mean you can’t help my cat?” Viktor barks down the speakerphone at Dr. Rivers, the New York specialist, an hour later.
“I’m very sorry, but I’m on vacation in Costa Rica right now. But my receptionist can give you my next available slot,” Dr. Rivers replies.
Matvey and Nikolai look on, a tense expression on their faces. Matvey had to hack into goodness knows how many systems to track down Dr. Rivers’ personal cell phone number.
It’s a full-scale operation. For one small, sick cat. A stray cat at that. But not one of them questions it. None of them object. Because they can see how important this is to Viktor—and they’d do anything for the man they call a brother.
“Queenie might not have that long. Please,” Viktor pleads.
“I’m a nine-hour flight away from you,” Dr. Rivers objects.
“I’ll send our private jet!”
“It’s not possible, I’m afraid—”
“And I’ll pay all your fees and expenses and an extra 20K on top of that. To compensate for your ruined vacation.”
He paces the length of the office while Matvey clicks away on his laptop, securing the funds for whatever this will cost. Nikolai is already coordinating with the pilot for a route and safe pick-up for the vet.
Dr. Rivers clears his throat. “I’m sorry but—”
“100K! Payment upfront. And our private jet to bring you here and then take you back to Costa Rica. I don’t care what it costs—10k, 100K, or a million dollars—just please make sure my cat doesn’t die!”
Dr. Rivers is silent for a few long moments. “I can see how much your cat means to you. So, okay…”