Chapter 28 #2
I don’t waste another second. I slide one arm under her knees and lift her carefully. She winces, and I stop.
“Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere,” she says weakly. “But my stomach. Mostly.”
That’s enough to make my blood run cold.
“We’re going back to the hospital.”
She clings to my neck. “My daughter.”
“Our daughter,” I say.
Her eyes close at that, and her face crumples. “Our daughter,” she repeats, barely audible.
I carry her toward the door. Ethan is still unconscious against the wall. I check him only long enough to know he’s breathing, then step past him.
Sienna’s fingers tighten at my collar.
“Don’t leave me,” she murmurs.
“I won’t.”
She leans into me, exhausted and shaking.
I carry her outside into the light, and this time I don’t look back.
I carry Sienna back into the hospital myself.
This time, no one stops me.
The second the staff see her condition, the doors open and people start moving fast. A nurse brings a stretcher.
Another calls for a doctor. Someone recognizes her from earlier and goes pale when they see the blood on her mouth, the bruise on her cheek, the way she’s curled into me with one hand pressed over her stomach.
“She had a C-section today,” I say. “She was taken from the ward. She hit her head. She was struck in the face. Check the incision.”
That gets everyone’s attention. They take her from my arms, and for one second she panics.
Her fingers catch my sleeve. “Viktor.”
“I’m here.”
The nurse says, “Sir, we need space.”
I look at Sienna, not the nurse. “I’m not leaving.”
She nods once, weakly, and only then lets them transfer her fully onto the stretcher.
Maksim arrives in a second ambulance twenty minutes later, under guard, still alive. Ethan comes in with him, half-conscious, with a split lip and a concussion. I don’t ask much about either of them. Yuri handles it. The police will be involved now whether anyone likes it or not.
Sienna is the only reason I stay in one place.
They scan her head. They check the incision. They treat the bruising, clean her wrists, monitor her bleeding, and keep asking questions she’s too exhausted to answer. I answer what I can. When they need details she has to provide, I sit beside her and keep my hand where she can reach it.
Hours pass like that.
By the time they bring her back to the room, she looks smaller against the pillows. Pale. Drained. But awake. That’s enough to keep me breathing.
I sit beside her bed, one hand wrapped around hers, and watch the steady rise and fall of her chest.
After a while, she turns her head toward me. “What happened to Maksim?”
I don’t answer immediately.
Her eyes search mine. “Viktor.”
I brush my thumb over her knuckles. “You’re better off not knowing right now.”
Her face tightens. “Is he dead?”
“No.”
The truth seems to unsettle her more than comfort her.
“He’s alive,” I say. “He’s being watched. He won’t get near you again.”
A knock comes at the door before she can say anything else.
Alina enters without waiting for permission. She looks tired now. Still elegant, still controlled, but not untouched. Her eyes move to Sienna first, then to me, then to our joined hands.
Her mouth tightens. “So it’s true,” she says.
Sienna looks away.
I don’t.
“If you came to start another fight, leave,” I say.
Alina’s gaze snaps to me. “Your son is being treated down the hall. The wedding is ruined, and you’re sitting here holding her hand like this is the only thing that matters.”
I stand slowly. “It is.”
The words stop her.
For a moment she just stares at me. Then she laughs once, bitter and disbelieving. “Of course. Of course it is.”
“Alina.”
Her voice shakes now, but she keeps going. “You always did this. You decide something belongs to you, and suddenly the rest of the world can burn.”
“Sienna does not belong to me.”
“No?” She looks at our hands again. “Then what is this?”
“This is me choosing her.”
The room goes quiet. Sienna’s fingers tighten around mine, but she doesn’t speak.
Alina’s face changes. Not anger this time. Pain. “You have a family.”
“I know.”
“A son.”
“I know that too.”
“And you choose her.”
“I choose the mother of my daughter. I choose the person everyone in this family has hurt and blamed and used because it was easier than looking at themselves.”
Alina flinches, but I don’t stop.
“And yes, I choose her over your pride. Over Ethan’s lies. Over whatever you thought you still had a claim to in me.”
Her eyes shine, but she refuses to cry. “You’re cruel,” she says.
“No,” I say. “I’m finished pretending. Maybe you did too when you were fucking Maksim. Do you know he’s the one who came after me? Who almost killed her, and your son? All in some twisted scheme to hurt me because he thought you still loved me.”
Alina remains quiet. She looks at Sienna then, and for once there’s no polished contempt in her face. Only grief and resentment and something close to defeat. “You have no idea what you’re walking into,” she says to her.
Sienna’s voice is quiet, but steady. “Maybe not. But I know what I’m not walking away from.”
Alina looks back at me. For a second I think she might say something else, something old and sharp enough to draw blood. Instead she steps back. “I hope she survives loving you better than I did.” Then she turns and leaves.
The door closes behind her.
Sienna looks exhausted. Not just physically. The kind of exhaustion that comes after too much fear, too much pain, too many people trying to decide what your life is worth.
I sit down again and take her hand carefully. “I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?”
“For all of it.”
She gives a faint, tired smile. “That’s a big apology.”
“It’s a big mess.”
That almost makes her laugh, but it hurts, so she stops with a wince.
I lean closer. “I meant every word.”
Her eyes lift to mine. “With Alina?” she asks.
“With you.”
Her face softens, but there’s caution there too. I don’t blame her for it.
“I love you,” I say. “I love our daughter. I want you with me, both of you, but not because you’re trapped or scared or because I say so. I want you to stay because you choose it.”
Her eyes fill.
I keep my voice low. “And if you need time, I’ll give you time. If you need space, I’ll hate it, but I’ll give you that too. I only need you to know that what I said before was true. You come first for me now.”
She looks at me for a long moment. Then she whispers, “That’s terrifying.”
“I know.”
“It’s not simple.”
“No.”
“And your life is dangerous.”
“Yes.”
She swallows. “And I have a daughter to think about.”
“Our daughter,” I say gently.
Her mouth trembles. “Our daughter.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her fingers. “I hope you’ll stay,” I say. “But I’ll spend as long as it takes proving you and she are safe with me.”
A tear slips down her cheek.
She doesn’t give me an answer. Not yet. But she turns her hand in mine and holds on.