Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Vivienne
The steel mill behind me crumbled like a beast's shattered spine, torn metal shrieking as sparks rained down, the heat wave and choking black smoke nearly singeing my hair.
But I didn't care about any of that.
"Vivienne! Call an ambulance! Now!"
I dropped to my knees beside Nikolai, cupping his face, tears streaming down unchecked.
His face was terrifyingly pale, lips drained of color, blood still pulsing from the wound on his left arm, staining the ground red.
"You don't get to die! You hear me?" I tore off my sleeve with shaking hands, pressing it desperately against his wound. "You haven't even met our baby yet—you don't get to die—"
Nikolai looked at me weakly, his lips pulling into the faintest smile.
"Don't cry... You look... ugly when you cry..."
"Shut up! Just shut up!" I sobbed harder. "You bastard, you goddamn bastard!"
Ambulance sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer.
Kostya crouched beside me, applying professional first aid to stop Nikolai's bleeding. "He won't die. This bastard's tough as nails. Got hurt way worse in Moscow years back, still pulled through."
I looked up at him through blurred tears. "Really?"
"Yeah." Kostya patted my shoulder with rare gentleness. "You gotta trust him. He risked his life for you—no way he's gonna die now."
The ambulance finally arrived.
Paramedics rushed over, quickly loading Nikolai and Sasha onto stretchers.
"Are you family?" a nurse asked.
"Yes!" I said without hesitation. "I'm his fiancée!"
"Then please come with us."
I climbed into the ambulance, gripping Nikolai's hand tight.
He'd already slipped into unconsciousness, but his fingers twitched slightly, like he was responding to me.
"Don't be scared, Nikolai." I pressed his hand to my cheek, tears splashing onto his knuckles. "I'm here. I'm not leaving you. You promised to meet our baby. You can't break that promise."
The hospital's disinfectant mixed with lingering gunpowder smoke, stinging my nose.
The surgical light blazed overhead. I stared at that cold glow, nails digging unconsciously into my palms. Kostya leaned against the opposite wall, forehead wrapped in bandages, twisting Sasha's blood-stained beret in his hands.
"Doc said shrapnel grazed the brachial artery. Two millimeters more and he'd be dead." A nurse hurried past with blood bags. He suddenly looked up at me, voice raw. "Lucky bastard. Sasha too—intracranial bleeding but stable for now."
I nodded, throat stuffed with cotton. Rapid footsteps echoed from down the hall. Mia appeared breathless, clutching my coat, dark circles under her eyes.
"Mia..."
The moment I said her name, I lost it completely.
Mia rushed over and pulled me into a fierce hug. "It's okay, it's okay, I'm here..."
"It's all my fault..." I choked out. "If I hadn't been so stubborn, if I wasn't so selfish, Nikolai wouldn't be hurt, and Sasha wouldn't—"
"Stop it!" Mia cut me off, gripping my shoulders hard, forcing me to meet her eyes. "Listen, Vivienne Cole, this is NOT your fault! Those assholes tried to kill you both! You don't get to take responsibility for this, you hear me?"
I opened my mouth but couldn't speak.
"And," Mia wiped the tears from my face, her tone softening slightly, "Nikolai made his choice. He loves you, so he'd do anything for you. This isn't your fault. It's his choice."
I stared at her blankly, tears still falling, but that crushing guilt weighing on me seemed to lift just a little.
"He'll be okay, right?" My voice was small, pleading.
"Yes." Mia nodded firmly. "He'll be fine. A man who survived gang wars isn't gonna die on an operating table."
Just then, the OR doors swung open.
I shot to my feet, practically lunging at the doctor. "How is he?"
The doctor pulled down his mask, exhaustion mixing with relief on his face. "Surgery was successful. We removed the shrapnel—no bone or major vessel damage. He lost significant blood, but we've given transfusions. He's very weak and needs rest."
My legs buckled. Mia caught me just in time.
"What about the other patient?" I asked. "Sasha—the man with the leg injury—"
"His situation's worse." The doctor frowned. "Comminuted fracture of the left leg. We did our best to repair it, but recovery will take time. Good news is we saved the leg—no amputation risk."
I exhaled long and slow.
"Thank you, doctor. Thank you..."
"You're welcome." The doctor patted my shoulder. "He'll be moved to a room soon. You can see him. But remember—don't let him get too worked up. He needs rest."
"I understand."
Soon, Nikolai was wheeled out of the OR.
His eyes were closed, face paper-white, left arm wrapped in thick bandages. Various tubes connected to monitors, the heart rate monitor beeping steadily.
I followed the gurney to the VIP room, watching as nurses carefully settled him in.
"He needs rest now," the nurse said softly. "If anything seems wrong, press the call button immediately."
"Okay, thank you."
After the nurse left, only he and I remained.
I pulled a chair bedside, carefully taking his right hand—couldn't touch the injured left.
His hand was large, warm, palm calloused and rough.
Holding that hand, I broke down again.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered. "I'm sorry, Nikolai. This is my fault. If I hadn't been so stubborn, if I'd told you sooner about the baby, if I'd just listened..."
He didn't respond, just lay there quietly.
"I'm sorry." My voice grew more choked. "I know you monitored me to protect me, I know you were harsh because you were scared of losing me. I know all of it... but I still treated you that way..."
I lowered my head, burying my face against his hand.
"Please wake up..." I sobbed. "Please... I have so much to tell you... I want to tell you I love you... I want to tell you about our baby... please wake up..."
Outside the window, dawn slowly broke.
I still sat vigil, holding Nikolai's hand, not daring to let go even for a moment.
Waves of exhaustion crashed over me, but I forced my eyes open.
I was afraid if I closed them, he'd disappear.
Afraid this was all a dream, and he'd be gone when I woke.
But my eyelids grew heavier, consciousness fading...
At some point, I slumped over the bed and fell into deep sleep.
"Firecracker."
A low, raspy voice sounded in my ear.
I jerked awake, head snapping up—
Nikolai's eyes were open.
Those dark gray eyes gazed at me tenderly, exhaustion in their depths, but more than that—the relief of survival.
"Nikolai!" Tears burst forth instantly. "You're awake! Finally—"
"Don't cry." He weakly raised his right hand to wipe my tears, but the IV line restricted his movement.
I quickly grasped his hand, pressing my face into his palm, unable to stop crying.
"I'm sorry... It's all my fault..."
"Idiot." His voice was soft but infinitely indulgent. "This isn't your fault. I failed to protect you."
"No!" I looked up, shaking my head hard. "I was too stubborn! I didn't listen to you, I insisted on meeting old Volkov, that's why—"
"Vivienne." He cut me off, those gray eyes serious. "Listen to me."
I bit my lip and nodded.
"These past days, I've been thinking." He spoke slowly, voice weak but steady. "Thinking a lot, about us, about the way I... controlled you."
He paused, pain flashing in his eyes.
"I grew up in the Bratva. I've seen betrayal, death, too many people pay the price for trust. My mother was one of them. She trusted my father, and what happened? She died alone and desperate."
"So I swore I'd never let anyone I cared about be in danger. I had to control everything, know everyone's movements, eliminate threats before they emerged."
He looked at me, guilt filling his gaze.
"But I forgot—you're not my subordinate, not my pawn. You're Vivienne Cole, a woman with her own mind, her own dreams. You didn't need a cage, not a prison, but..."
"But a partner," I finished softly. "A partner who respects you, trusts you."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry, little firecracker. I got it wrong. I thought monitoring you, tracking your every move was protecting you, but I never realized how much pain that would cause you."
"No." I shook my head, tears still flowing but a smile tugging at my lips. "I need to apologize too. I shouldn't have fought back so hard, shouldn't have said those hurtful things. I understand now—you weren't imprisoning me, you were just... you were just too scared of losing me."
His eyes reddened too.
"Yes." His voice broke. "I was terrified. So terrified that... I'd rather have you hate me than risk losing you."
"I don't hate you." I leaned down, forehead touching his, tears falling onto his face. "I love you, Nikolai. I love you."
"I love you too." He closed his eyes, voice thick with long-suppressed emotion. "More than my own life."
We stayed like that for a long time, neither speaking, just feeling each other's warmth and breath.
All the misunderstandings, all the hurt, all the pain—in that moment, everything dissolved.
Finally, Nikolai spoke.
"Vivienne, I promise you—from now on... I'll try to change. I'll try to trust you, give you freedom, protect you in better ways."
He paused, meeting my eyes.
"But you have to promise me too—no more taking risks alone. If something happens, tell me. We'll face it together, okay?"
I nodded hard.
"Okay. I promise."
He exhaled with relief, lips pulling into a weak smile.
Then his gaze dropped to my belly, turning incredibly tender.
"The baby... how is it?"
I froze, then realized—he'd heard everything.
All those things I said, he'd heard them all.
"You... how long have you been awake?"
"Since the moment you said 'I'm sorry.'" He confessed honestly, looking both sheepish and expectant. "So... we really have a baby?"
"You already know, don't you?" I felt a little embarrassed. "Natasha told Derek, Derek told you..."
"I want to hear it from you." He interrupted, gaze intensely serious. "Vivienne, tell me—is our baby here?"
I looked at the anticipation and anxiety in his eyes, heart melting.
"Yes." I took his hand and placed it on my belly. "Our baby's here. Still tiny, maybe just the size of a pea... but here, between us."
Nikolai's eyes instantly welled up.
He trembled as he touched my stomach, the gesture so careful, like he was touching the world's most precious treasure.
"Our baby..." he repeated in a murmur, voice filled with disbelieving joy. "I'm going to be a father..."
"Yes." I smiled through tears. "You're going to be a father, Nikolai Volkov."
He looked up sharply, eyes blazing with light I'd never seen before—wild joy, shock, the relief of survival, and infinite hope for the future.
"Come here." He pulled me into his embrace with what strength he had, carefully avoiding his injured left arm.
I lay against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, feeling his warmth.
"Thank you, Vivienne," he whispered in my ear. "Thank you for forgiving me, thank you for giving me a child, thank you for... giving my life meaning."
"I need to thank you too," I choked out. "Thank you for not giving up on me, thank you for being willing to change, thank you for... loving me."
"I'll love you forever." He tightened his hold, like he wanted to merge me into his bones. "From now on, no matter what happens, I'll never let go of your hand."
"Me neither." I closed my eyes, tears soaking his hospital gown. "I'll love you forever too, Nikolai."
Outside the window, dawn light filtered in. Amid the monitors' soft beeping, I rested against his shoulder, and for the first time, the future felt clear.
All that scheming, betrayal, and bloodshed receded into the distance. In this moment, there was only our steady breathing, and the quiet trace of a new life beginning to grow.