Chapter 44 Stefan
STEFAN
I park in the hospital garage and take the elevator up to the ICU. My phone is humming constantly with updates from Taras—shipment schedules, security reports, questions about the new surveillance system at the manor. I answer them all mechanically. My mind is already in Elena’s room.
It’s been two days since we got back from Italy. Two endless, monotonous, agonizing days of machines and monitors and waiting. So much goddamn waiting.
But there have been silver linings. Moments of hope. She woke up last night. Just for a few minutes, yes, and groggy and confused from the medication. But she recognized me. Squeezed my hand. That was enough.
The guards outside her room nod as I approach. I push through the door.
Olivia sits in the chair beside the bed, her hand resting on Elena’s. She looks exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes, hair pulled back in a messy bun. She’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
She looks up and manages a small smile. “Hey.”
Elena is asleep, her breathing steady. The ventilator was removed this morning, which the doctors said was a good sign. Her color is better. Less gray, more pink.
I move to Olivia’s side and press a kiss to the top of her head. “How long has she been out?”
“About an hour. She was awake earlier. Asked for tea.”
“Did she get any?”
She shakes her head. “The nurse said maybe tomorrow. Strictly ice chips for now.”
I pull up another chair and sit. Olivia leans against me, her head on my shoulder.
“Have they named this wing after you yet?” I say. “You’ve practically put down roots here. Two days straight, I’m starting to worry you’re fusing to the chair.”
It’s a lame attempt at a joke and we both know it. Olivia doesn’t respond. Just keeps her eyes fixed on Elena.
She’s been quiet lately. Distracted. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
But she’s not. I can tell. Her bottom lip is raw from gnawing and her fingertips are chewed to the quick. She’s keeping something buried inside her, and I fucking hate that, because if I don’t know what it is, I can’t fix it.
Maybe she’s regretting this. The engagement, the baby, all of it. Maybe sitting in this hospital watching my grandmother fight for her life has made her realize what she’s signing up for.
Violence. Danger. A world where people get shot in their own kitchens and bleed out in hospital rooms with guards stationed at the door.
“If you’re having second thoughts—” I start. “—about the wedding, about us, anything… Or if you need more time—”
She pulls back and looks at me. “Are you crazy? I don’t need more time. I want to marry you. I want this baby. I want all of it.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“I’m just worried about Elena. That’s all.”
“Okay,” I say.
She settles back against me. We sit in silence, watching Elena breathe. The only sound is my phone, still buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
“You should go,” Olivia says when she sees me glance at my pocket. “Handle your business. I’ll stay with her.”
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’m not alone. The guards are right outside.” She pushes me gently on the shoulder. “Go, seriously. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
I hesitate. But she’s right. There are things that need my attention. Things I can’t keep putting off.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I say.
“Take your time.”
I stand and lean down to kiss her. She kisses me back, but it feels hollow. Like she’s going through the motions.
I loathe it.
But I leave anyway.
I’m halfway to the elevator when I see him.
Iakov. Standing in the hallway. Holding a bouquet of white roses.
What the hell is he doing here?
He sees me at the same time. For a long, surreal moment, we just stare at each other. Then he walks toward me, the flowers clutched in one hand.
“Safonov,” he says.
“Zakharov.” We stop a few feet apart. I can feel my guards tensing behind me, ready to move if I give the word. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard about your grandmother. I wanted to pay my respects.”
I glance at the roses. “You expect me to believe you’re here out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Believe what you want.”
“You’ve spent the better part of a decade trying to ruin me. Forgive me if I find your sudden concern for my grandmother a little suspicious.”
Iakov shifts his weight. “I liked Elena. She was always kind to me. I remember her from when I was a kid.”
“And that’s the only reason you’re here. Not to scope out my security. Not to gather intel. Just to drop off some fucking flowers.”
“Just to drop off some flowers,” he confirms.
I cross my arms. “You’re full of shit.”
“Think what you want,” he answers with a shrug. “I’m here for Elena. Not you.”
“If you’re alone, what’s stopping me from killing you right now?” I ask.
Iakov doesn’t look fazed in the least. “I’m not alone,” he says. “I brought Arielle with me.”
I glance past him and spot her standing near the elevators. She’s holding a small gift bag and looking nervous.
“You brought your girlfriend to a hospital where my armed guards are stationed,” I say in dubious disbelief. “That was stupid.”
“Perhaps. But perhaps not.” He shifts the roses to his other hand. “Look, I know you don’t trust me. But I know you still have some honor. Well, so do I. And I swear to you that I am here under only good intentions. Respect, nothing more, nothing less.”
He says he has fond memories of Babushka. I don’t remember that. But then again, there’s a lot from those years I’ve tried to forget.
“Fine,” I say. “Bring her over.”
Iakov waves Arielle forward. She approaches cautiously, her eyes darting between me and the guards.
“Mr. Safonov,” she says quietly. “I’m so sorry about your grandmother.”
“Thank you.”
“I brought some tea. Herbal blends. Iakov said that she liked chamomile, so I thought...” She trails off, holding out the gift bag.
I take it. Inside are several boxes of expensive tea, just like she said. Not a bomb, not a severed finger or a bloodstained threat. Just tea.
“That’s thoughtful,” I say. To my surprise, I actually mean it.
Arielle relaxes a fraction. “Is she doing okay?”
“Better than she was. The doctors are optimistic.”
“That’s good. That’s really good.”
There’s an awkward pause. Then Olivia appears in the doorway behind me.
“Stefan? Is everything—” She stops when she sees Iakov and Arielle. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting,” I say. “Olivia, this is Iakov Zakharov and his fiancée, Arielle. They came to visit Elena.”
Olivia’s eyebrows rise slightly, but she recovers quickly and extends her hand to Arielle. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Arielle says, shaking her hand. “Congratulations on your engagement. Iakov told me.”
“Thank you.”
The two women smile at each other. It’s polite. Friendly, even.
I turn to Iakov. “Let’s talk privately.”
He nods. “Arielle, why don’t you stay here with Dr. Aster?”
“Of course.”
Olivia gives me a questioning look, but I just kiss her temple. “I’ll be right back.”
Iakov and I walk down the hall, away from the guards and the nurses’ station. We stop near a window overlooking the parking lot.
“I’m going to ask one more time: You expect me to believe that you have no ulterior motive in coming here?” I ask.
“I know this is probably hard for you to hear, but I’m not here for you at all. I’m here for Elena.” He pauses, then adds, “But so long as we’re talking about it, I had nothing to do with the attack on your manor.”
“Sounds like something a guilty man would say.”
“What would an innocent man say?”
He looks sincere. But I don’t trust anyone anymore.
“You’ve been working with the FBI,” I say. “You’ve been feeding them information about my operations. Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you’re not trying to destroy me.”
“I’m not pretending anything. Yes, I’ve been working with the feds. Yes, I want to see you pay for what you did to my father. But I didn’t order an attack on your home and I sure as hell didn’t tell anyone to shoot Elena.”
“Then who did?”
“Your mother, probably. She’s the one who’s been pulling the strings, isn’t she?”
I don’t answer. He’s right, but admitting it feels like giving him ammunition.
Iakov sighs. “Again, I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m just telling you the truth. I had nothing to do with what happened to Elena. And if I find out who did, I’ll let you know.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because Elena doesn’t deserve to be caught in the middle of our bullshit. She’s a good woman. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
I want to believe him. Or maybe I just want to believe that not everyone in this world is out to fuck me over.
“If I find out you’re lying—” I start.
“You won’t.”
“—I’ll kill you. And Arielle. And anyone else you care about.”
His fist tightens, but he keeps it at his side. “Understood.”
We turn and walk back toward Elena’s room. Arielle and Olivia are still talking, their heads bent together like old friends. Arielle is laughing at something Olivia said.
“Your girlfriend seems nice,” I say grudgingly.
“She is. Too nice for me, honestly.”
“Yeah, I got that impression.”
“The same could be said about you and Dr. Aster.”
I glance at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that she seems like a good person. The kind of person who doesn’t belong in our world.”
“She’s exactly where she belongs.”
“If you say so, Stefan. If you say so.”
We reach the women. Olivia is holding the gift bag of tea and smiling. “Arielle was just telling me about her work with the public school system,” Olivia explains. “It sounds so inspiring.”
“It’s rewarding,” Arielle agrees. “Hard, but rewarding.”
Iakov takes her hand. “We should go. Let you get back to Elena.”
Arielle nods and turns to me. “Please tell her I hope she feels better soon.”
“I will. Thank you for the tea.”
Iakov sets the roses on a nearby counter. “Take care of her, Safonov.”
He nods once, then leads Arielle toward the elevators. I watch them go, my mind turning over everything he said.
Olivia touches my arm. “That’s the Iakov who set the feds on you?”
“That’s the one,” I confirm.
“Damn.” She sighs. “I liked him. I liked both of them.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I can like people.”
“I know you can. It’s just that I thought you hated him.”
“I do. But that doesn’t mean I can’t respect him.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “You’re a complicated man, Stefan Safonov.”
“You’re just figuring that out now?”
“No, I knew that from the start. But sometimes, I forget just how complicated.”
A nurse comes up to ask Olivia if it’s okay to give Babushka a new round of medication. I stand aside while the two of them throw medical lingo back and forth. My gaze comes to rest on the flowers. They’re white, pure, almost like Olivia’s orchids. I run a finger along one petal.
I want to be sure about things, but fate keeps refusing me that kind of certainty. I can’t sure about anything when it comes to people like Iakov. Or my mother. I have only intuition and hope, and neither of those things are worth much anymore.
But when I look at Olivia, I find the certainty I need. I’m certain of her. I need to be. I have to be.
I wave goodbye to her as she escorts the nurse into the room. In the elevator, I close my eyes and let my head come to rest against the mirrored wall. I can rest, though just for the length of the ride down. Just long enough to pretend that everything is going to be okay.
That Elena will wake up fully and go home and get back to yelling at me for working too much.
That Olivia will marry me and we’ll have our baby and build a life together.
That Iakov was telling the truth and my mother is the only enemy I have left to worry about.
I let myself pretend I can protect them all. I need to be certain of that. I have to be.
Because if I can’t save them… who can?