Chapter 7Elena
7
Elena
T he hot water cascades over my skin, washing away the remnants of last night’s activities, but not the memories. I close my eyes, letting my head fall back as I recall Damir’s hands on my body, his mouth trailing kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, lower...
Three times. We connected three times throughout the night, and my body bears the sweet ache of it. The first time had been urgent, almost desperate—both of us caught in a storm of need that had built since our first meeting. The second time had been slower, more deliberate, with Damir taking his time to explore every inch of me. The third time had woken me from a deep sleep, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me against him in the darkness before dawn.
No wonder I’m exhausted. No wonder I’m starving.
I step out of the shower, wrapping a plush towel around my body. The bathroom is bigger than my entire previous apartment’s bathroom, with marble countertops and heated floors. Everything in Damir’s penthouse screams wealth and luxury, from the Egyptian cotton sheets we’d tangled ourselves in last night to the rainfall showerhead I’d just enjoyed.
After drying off, I dress quickly in scrubs and pull my damp hair into a practical bun. The smell of coffee draws me to the kitchen, where I find a pot already brewed. Damir is nowhere to be seen, but Valeriya, one of my new guards, stands near the counter, her posture military-straight, and her short blonde hair perfectly styled despite the early hour.
“Good morning,” I say, reaching for a mug from the cabinet.
“Morning, Mrs. Antonova.” Her voice is crisp and professional.
The name still sounds foreign to my ears. Mrs. Antonova. Elena Antonova. A name I never expected to have, attached to a man I barely know but whose body I now know intimately.
“Please, call me Elena,” I say, pouring coffee into my mug. “Is Damir around?”
“The pakhan left shortly after dawn. Business matters.” Valeriya’s expression gives nothing away.
I nod, trying not to show my disappointment. What did I expect? A goodbye kiss? A note? This is a business arrangement, not a romance, regardless of what happened in the bedroom.
I open the refrigerator, surprised to find it fully stocked. I grab eggs and vegetables, quickly preparing an omelet to satisfy my ravenous hunger. As I eat at the kitchen island, I glance at my watch. I need to leave soon for my shift.
“I’ll be heading to the hospital in twenty minutes,” I tell Valeriya, who hasn’t moved from her position.
“I’ll alert Fydor to bring the car around.”
I pause mid-bite. “That’s not necessary. I usually take the subway.”
Valeriya’s expression shifts slightly, showing the first crack in her professional mask. “That won’t be possible anymore, Mrs. Ant… Elena. The pakhan has arranged for secure transportation.”
I set down my fork. “I’ve been taking the subway for years. I know how to navigate the city.”
“It’s not a question of navigation,” she says. “It’s a matter of security.”
“I don’t need security to go to work.”
“You are the pakhan’s wife now. That changes things.”
I finish my breakfast in silence, irritation building inside me. When I’m done, I rinse my plate and grab my bag, heading for the elevator. Valeriya follows, and when the doors open, Fydor is already inside—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a permanent scowl.
“I’m going to the hospital alone,” I announce, stepping into the elevator.
Valeriya and Fydor exchange glances.
“That’s not possible,” he says, his voice deep and accented.
“I don’t need babysitters.”
“The pakhan’s orders are clear,” says Valeriya. “You are not to be left unprotected.”
“I’m going to a hospital, not a war zone.”
“You are now a target for Damir’s enemies,” says Fydor, his tone suggesting I’m being unreasonable. “The hospital has many entrances and many people. It is not secure.”
I want to argue further, but the reality of my new situation hits me. This is part of the deal—part of being married to a man like Damir Antonov. My independence is the price I’m paying for financial security. “Fine,” I concede, “but you both need to be discreet. I can’t have you hovering while I’m treating patients.”
“We know how to do our jobs,” says Valeriya, a hint of offense in her tone.
The ride to the hospital is silent. I stare out the window of the sleek black SUV, watching the city pass by. It feels strange to be driven, to have people waiting on me, protecting me. Strange and uncomfortable.
At the hospital, Valeriya walks a few paces behind me as I enter through the staff entrance. She’s dressed in plain clothes, dark jeans and a fitted jacket, but her alertness and the way she scans every corner of the room marks her as security.
I spot Liv at the nurses’ station and make a beeline for her, grateful to see a familiar face in this sea of strangeness. “Hey,” I say, leaning against the counter.
Liv’s eyes widen when she sees me approaching. She drops her pen on the counter and rushes around to give me a quick hug.
“Mrs. Antonova,” she whispers dramatically, pulling back to examine my face. “How’s married life treating you?”
I glance around to make sure no one’s within earshot. “It’s...interesting.”
“Interesting?” Liv raises an eyebrow, her dark curls bouncing as she tilts her head. “That’s all I get after standing next to you in that whirlwind wedding yesterday? Come on, spill.”
I tug her toward the break room, which is mercifully empty this early in the morning. I close the door behind us and lean against it. “We had sex,” I say without preamble.
Liv’s mouth drops open. “You what?”
“We had sex. Three times, actually.”
“Three—” Liv cuts herself off, lowering her voice. “Three times? I thought this was a business arrangement?”
I move to the coffee machine, pouring myself another cup despite having had one at the penthouse. Hospital shifts require caffeine, and lots of it. “It is a business arrangement,” I say, stirring in cream. I prefer black, but I hope the creamer will help hide the burnt taste. “The sex was just... an unexpected bonus.”
“A bonus?” Liv crosses her arms. “Elena, you can’t sleep with the man and pretend it doesn’t complicate things.”
“It doesn’t have to.” I take a sip of the coffee and grimace at the bitter taste. The creamer didn’t help. “We’re adults. We’re attracted to each other. The sex was good, really good, so why not enjoy it while this arrangement lasts?”
Liv studies my face. “Because you’re not the casual sex type. You never have been.”
“Maybe I’m evolving.”
“Or maybe you’re playing with fire.” Liv relaxes against the counter beside me. “Does this mean you’re actually going to be a real couple?”
“No,” I say firmly. “It’s still just a six-month deal. I get my tuition paid, he gets his alibi, and we both get some physical satisfaction in the meantime. When it’s over, we go our separate ways.”
“And you don’t think you’ll develop feelings for him?”
I laugh, though it sounds hollow even to my ears. “For a pakhan ? A Russian mafia boss? No, Liv. I’m not going to fall in love with him.”
“You say that now, but?—”
“I’m not na?ve,” I interrupt. “I know exactly who he is and what he does. This is temporary, and I’m keeping my eyes wide open.”
Liv sighs. “Fine, but what’s it like living with him? Is his place as fancy as I imagine?”
“Fancier. It’s a penthouse with floor-to-ceiling windows, marble everything, and more rooms than I can count. There’s a chef who comes in to prepare meals, a housekeeper, and...” I hesitate.
“And what?”
“Security. Everywhere.” I lower my voice further. “There’s a woman named Valeriya who follows me around. She’s here now, probably lurking somewhere nearby.”
Liv’s gaze darts to the door. “Seriously? Like a bodyguard?”
“Exactly like a bodyguard. Apparently, being Damir’s wife makes me a target.”
“That’s intense.”
“Tell me about it. There’s another guard named Fydor who drove me here this morning because I’m not allowed to take the subway anymore.”
“Not allowed?” Liv’s eyebrows shoot up. “Since when do you let anyone tell you what to do?”
“Since I married a man who has enemies who might want to hurt me to get to him.” I sigh, running a hand over my hair. “It’s part of the deal, I guess.”
Liv is quiet for a moment, then asks, “Are you safe, Elena? Really safe?”
The concern in her voice touches me. “Yes. Damir wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I’m his alibi, remember?”
“And his bedmate,” Liv adds pointedly.
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Dr. Patel sticks in her head. “Elena, rounds in five minutes. Mr. Kowalski’s labs came back, and we need to discuss his treatment plan.”
“Yes, Dr. Patel. I’ll be right there.”
She nods curtly and disappears. I drain my coffee cup and toss it in the trash.
“Duty calls,” I tell Liv. “We’ll talk more later.”
“You bet we will,” she says, following me out of the break room. “And be careful.”
I nod and hurry down the hallway to catch up with Dr. Patel. As I turn the corner, I spot Valeriya standing near a vending machine, pretending to browse the snack options. Our gazes meet briefly, and she gives me a subtle nod before returning her attention to the machine. At least she’s keeping her distance, as promised.
Dr. Patel is already surrounded by a group of medical students when I arrive. I slip into the circle, pulling out my tablet to review Mr. Kowalski’s chart. The familiar routine of hospital work pulls me back to the life I know and away from the strange new world I’ve entered with Damir.
“His creatinine levels are elevated,” Dr. Patel is saying, “Which suggests kidney dysfunction. Dr. Clarke, what would you recommend?”
I look up from my tablet. “Given his history of diabetes, I’d suggest adjusting his medication dosage and increasing IV fluids to improve kidney function. We should also monitor his electrolytes closely.”
Dr. Patel nods approvingly. “Good. Let’s proceed with that plan.”
We continue rounds, moving from patient to patient. The work is demanding but familiar, and I lose myself in it, grateful for the distraction from thoughts of Damir and our complicated arrangement.
After finishing with Dr. Patel’s patients, we join Dr. Lewis and his students for joint rounds. My stomach tightens when I spot Justin among them. This is the first time I’ve worked alongside him again since the incident when Damir intervened. Justin’s face had been a mess of bruises the next day, though they’ve mostly faded now.
He deliberately avoids looking at me, turning his body away when I approach. Dr. Lewis and Dr. Patel discuss a complex case together while the students take notes. I stand on the opposite side of the group from Justin, focusing on the patient’s chart rather than the tension in the room. As we move to the next patient, I overhear Justin speaking to another student, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.
“I’ve arranged to work exclusively with Dr. Lewis from now on. His surgical approach is more aligned with my career goals. Dr. Patel is too conservative.”
The other student, a woman named Melissa, glances at me, then back at Justin. “I thought you were on Dr. Patel’s service for the rest of the semester?”
“I was, but I requested a change. Dr. Lewis’s methods are more cutting-edge, and I need to focus on what will advance my career.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. It’s obvious he’s trying to save face after what happened with Damir. Rather than admit he’s avoiding me because my husband threatened him, he’s pretending it’s a professional choice.
“Dr. Clarke,” calls Dr. Patel, drawing my attention, “What do you make of these test results?”
I move forward, grateful for the distraction from Justin’s posturing. “The patient’s white blood cell count is elevated, suggesting infection. Given the recent surgery, I’d recommend cultures and broad-spectrum antibiotics until we identify the specific pathogen.”
“Precisely. Let’s order those tests immediately.”
As we continue with rounds, I notice Valeriya has positioned herself near the nurses’ station, pretending to read a magazine. She’s good at blending in. If I didn’t know to look for her, I might not have noticed her at all. I assume Fydor is lurking somewhere or perhaps, he’s still with the SUV.
Justin continues to ignore me throughout the joint rounds, making a point of addressing his questions only to Dr. Lewis. I don’t mind. If anything, I’m relieved he’s keeping his distance. The last thing I need is more drama with him, especially now that my life has become complicated enough.
When rounds finally end, Dr. Patel pulls me aside. “Elena, is everything all right? You seem distracted today.”
I straighten my posture. “I’m fine, Dr. Patel. Just a bit tired.”
She studies my face for a moment. “I heard about Justin’s request to transfer to Dr. Lewis’s service. Did something happen between you two?”
I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “We had a... disagreement outside of work. It’s better this way.”
Dr. Patel nods slowly. “As long as it doesn’t affect your performance. You’re one of my best students. I’d hate to see personal matters interfere with your education.”
“They won’t. My focus is still on becoming the best surgeon I can be.”
“Good.” She hands me a chart. “Mrs. Rodriguez in room 304 needs her dressings changed. After that, I want you to assist me with Mr. Candry’s aortal procedure.”
“Yes, Dr. Patel.”
As she walks away, I catch sight of Valeriya again, now standing near the water fountain, and give her a small nod of acknowledgment. This is my new reality—being watched, protected, and followed, all because I married a man whose world is so different from mine.
I head toward room 304, pushing aside thoughts of Damir, Justin, and my complicated new life. For the next few hours, I’ll focus on what I know best—medicine. The rest can wait.