Chapter 17 Elena
(Ten Weeks Later)
I pull the emerald necklace from my locker, clasping it around my neck with practiced fingers. The weight has become familiar over these months, comforting even. I catch my reflection in the small mirror inside my locker door. The emerald sits perfectly against my scrubs, a strange juxtaposition of medical practicality and luxury that somehow summarizes my life these days.
Twelve hours on my feet. Three emergency surgeries. One aortic dissection that nobody else caught.
“Dr. Clarke.” Dr. Patel approaches as I close my locker. “Your diagnosis on the Hernandez case was exceptional. That dissection was subtle, and most residents would have missed it.”
“Thank you.” I smile, warmth spreading through me at the validation. “The irregularity in the CT was easy to miss, but the pain pattern was classic.”
“You have good instincts.” She nods, already moving toward the door. “Keep trusting them.”
I check my phone as I gather my things. A calendar notification reminds me I have dinner with Damir tonight to celebrate our four-month anniversary. Four months of marriage to a man I barely knew when I said, “I do.” Four months of discovering who he really is beyond the criminal facade. Four months of... something I’m not ready to name yet.
It hits me suddenly that I’ve stopped counting down. For weeks after our wedding, I’d mentally tick off each day that brought me one day closer to the end of our six-month arrangement. I realize now that I haven’t thought about that countdown in over two months. The necklace now feels like a part of me. I only remove it for surgeries, putting it back on immediately after, like now. The only other time it comes off is at night when I put it in a jewelry box on my vanity while I sleep.
The feds haven’t approached me again either. That whole aspect of our arrangement, me providing Damir with an alibi, seems to have faded into the background. We’re just living. Being married without the constant reminder of deals and agendas.
I push away the thought that tries to surface about falling in love with my husband. That’s territory I’m not ready to explore.
The hospital corridors are quiet when I make my way toward the staff exit. Most of the day shift has already left, and the night crew is settled in at their stations. My security detail will be waiting discreetly by the door. I’ve grown used to their presence, hardly noticing them anymore.
The automatic doors slide open, and fresh air hits my face. After twelve hours in the sterile hospital environment, even city air smells wonderful. I inhale deeply, already thinking about dinner with Damir, when I spot him .
Casey.
He slouches against a car in the parking lot, hands stuffed in his pockets. Even from this distance, I can see how his once-fitted designer clothes hang even more loosely on his frame. His face looks gaunt, and his cheekbones are more pronounced than I remember.
Valeriya and the others immediately move forward, but I hold up my hand, signaling them to wait. After weeks of silence, I’m curious about what brought him here.
“Elena.” Casey straightens as I approach, his voice carrying across the parking lot. “We need to talk.”
I tighten my grip on my oversized bag that holds a change of clothes and workout gear along with my purse. “We really don’t.”
“Please.” He moves closer, his eyes pleading. “You don’t love him. You’re scared.”
“I don’t love you,” I remind him. “I made that perfectly clear.”
His expression cracks. The fake confidence, the pity act—it all crumbles. “He’s manipulating you,” he says, his voice dropping. “You can’t possibly want to be with someone like him.”
I laugh, the sound sharp and cold even to my own ears. “Someone like him? As opposed to someone like you?”
“I made mistakes?—”
“Mistakes?” I cut him off. “Let me refresh your memory. On January 15th, you transferred $12,500 from our joint account to your personal account. January 28th, another $15,000. February 3rd, $122,000 which must have been when you got brave and figured I hadn’t noticed. You were gearing up to leave then, but I guess you couldn’t go without taking the very last of it. February 17th, the remaining $18,750—exactly the amount of my tuition payment.”
His eyes widen. He clearly hadn’t realized I knew the specifics.
“That’s $168,250 total. My entire inheritance from my mother, minus what I’ve already paid for my education over the years. Money that was meant to fund my medical education and help me get started. Money you knew was sacred to me.”
“I was going to pay you back.”
“With what? The money you lost gambling? Or the money you were getting from your cocktail waitress, maybe? Were Tiffany’s tips that good?”
He pales as he realizes how much I know. “Elena, you don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly. You targeted me for my money. You pretended to love me while systematically draining my accounts. Then you disappeared without a word, leaving me with nothing.”
He tries to reach for my wrist. “If you’d just listen…”
I step back before he can touch me. My security team moves forward, but they don’t need to intervene. I’m handling this. “Don’t touch me,” I say, my voice steady. “Don’t speak to me. Don’t come near me again.”
A hospital security guard approaches. I recognize him as the one who always nods respectfully when I arrive with Damir. “Everything okay, Mrs. Antonova?” He’s about the only one at the hospital who calls me that. To everyone else here, I’m still Dr. Clarke, so I suspect the guard knows Damir, or something of him, outside the hospital.
The title still sounds strange sometimes, but right now, I embrace it. “Yes, thank you. This man was just leaving.”
Casey looks from me to the security guard, then to my waiting security team. The realization dawns that he’s completely outmaneuvered. “This isn’t over,” he mutters, but the threat lacks conviction.
I watch him walk away, looking diminished. I feel nothing but residual anger. Casey has become irrelevant to my life.
“Mrs. Antonova?” Valeriya approaches. “The car is ready whenever you are.”
I nod, turning away from Casey’s retreating figure. “Thank you, Valeriya.”
As we walk to the SUV, I wonder what Damir is doing to destroy Casey, and why it’s taking so long. The thought surprises me, not because it’s cruel, but because I realize I trust Damir to handle it. Before Casey’s betrayal and meeting Damir, I would have been horrified at the idea of someone being “destroyed” on my behalf. Now, I understand the necessity of consequences.
The car door opens, and I slide into the backseat, mind already shifting to dinner with Damir. Four months. It feels both longer and shorter than that, as if we’ve been together forever and yet just started discovering each other.
I touch the emerald at my throat, thinking about him and the way he makes me feel. I wonder what he has planned for tonight. With Damir, even a simple dinner becomes an event, not because he’s showy, but because he pays attention to details most people miss.
My phone buzzes with a text from him: “Looking forward to seeing you tonight.”
I smile, typing back: “Just finished my shift. Heading home now to change.”
Home. When did his penthouse become home to me? When did Damir become more than just a business arrangement?
These are questions I’m still not ready to answer. For now, I’m content to live in this moment and be Elena Antonova for as long as it lasts, without counting down the days until it ends.
The car pulls away from the hospital, leaving Casey and all he represents firmly in the past. Ahead lies dinner with Damir, and a future I never expected but am increasingly unwilling to give up. I reach into my bag to return my phone and pause at a noticeable absence. I search through the contents—stethoscope, notebook, granola bar wrapper, lip balm, spare clothes, and sneakers, but no purse.
“Wait.” I tap on the partition separating me from Fydor, who’s driving. “I think I left my purse in my locker.” I must have gotten distracted by the praise from Dr. Patel, combined with my tiredness.
Valeriya turns in the passenger seat, her expression neutral as always. “We need to go back?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I forgot it.” I blush, embarrassed. “My wallet is in there.”
Fydor makes a smooth U-turn at the next intersection without complaint. In the four months I’ve known him, he’s never once shown annoyance at my requests, though backtracking like this disrupts their carefully planned security routes.
“It’s no problem, Mrs. Antonova,” says Valeriya, her voice professional. “We have time.”
Mrs. Antonova. The name still gives me a little jolt every time I hear it. Not unpleasant. It’s just a reminder of how drastically my life has changed.
The hospital comes back into view, its windows glowing against the darkening sky. Fydor pulls up to the staff entrance, and Valeriya steps out first, scanning the area before opening my door.
“I’ll be quick,” I promise, hurrying inside with Valeriya close behind me.
The hospital corridors are quieter now with the day shift long gone. A few nurses nod as I pass, and I return their greetings with a smile. Four months ago, I worried that my marriage to Damir would change how my colleagues treated me. Some did distance themselves, like Justin, who requested reassignment to another attending, but most just accepted it as another fact about Dr. Elena Clarke—brilliant diagnostician, hard worker, and married to an enigmatic tech mogul.
The staff lounge is empty except for Liv, who sits at the table nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through her phone. She looks up when I enter, her face brightening. “I thought you left already.” She sets down her phone. “Forget something?”
“My purse.” I head straight to my locker, spinning the combination lock. “I was so distracted by Dr. Patel’s praise that I walked out without it. Then seeing Casey… it took me a few minutes to realize.”
Liv’s eyes widen. “Casey was here? What happened?”
I pull my purse from the locker, checking that my wallet is inside. “He was waiting in the parking lot. Tried to tell me Damir is manipulating me.”
“The audacity.” Liv shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “After what he did to you.”
I sit down across from her, suddenly needing a moment with my friend before heading home. Valeriya takes up position outside the door in the hallway, giving us privacy while maintaining her watch.
“I felt nothing, Liv.” I set my purse on the table. “When I saw him, it was nothing. No anger, no hurt. Just indifference. Okay, maybe some anger, but it was almost like an echo of it. I still want him to suffer, but he doesn’t affect me anymore.”
Liv studies my face. “That’s good, right? It means you’ve moved on.”
“I have.” I trace the edge of the table with my finger. “But I’ve moved on to something I never expected.”
“Damir.” She says his name carefully, without judgment.
I nod. “Tonight’s our four-month anniversary. He’s planning something special.”
“Four months.” Liv whistles low. “How’s that feel?”
“Surreal.” I lower my voice. “When we made this arrangement, it was just business. Six months of marriage to give him an alibi, and I’d get my tuition paid. Clean and simple.”
“And now?”
I hesitate, organizing my thoughts. “Now it’s complicated. He’s not who I thought he was.”
“You mean he’s not just a criminal?”
“He’s that too. I’m not deluding myself about what he does, but there’s more to him. He cooks these amazing breakfasts. He remembers every detail about my day. He has this whole history that made him who he is, and when he shares pieces of it with me...”
Liv leans forward. “You’re falling for him.”
It’s not a question. I don’t even deny it.
“I never meant to. It was supposed to be temporary. Clinical, but now I find myself thinking about what happens after our six months are up, and I don’t want…” A wave of nausea hits me without warning, so intense I clamp my hand over my mouth. The room spins slightly, and I push back from the table. “Bathroom,” I manage to say, rushing past Valeriya into the hallway.
I barely make it to the toilet before my stomach empties itself. I grip the cold porcelain, my body shaking with each heave. When there’s nothing left, I stay kneeling, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
The bathroom door opens, and Liv’s footsteps approach. She hands me a damp paper towel.
“Thanks.” I wipe my mouth, the cool moisture soothing against my skin.
“Elena.” Liv’s voice has that careful tone nurses use when delivering difficult news. “That’s the third time this week.”
I stand slowly, moving to the sink to rinse my mouth. “I’ve been working double shifts. Not eating properly.”
“And the time you couldn’t stand the smell of Dr. Patel’s food? Or when you nearly passed out during rounds?”
I avoid her gaze in the mirror. “It’s stress. Seeing Casey today didn’t help.” Before she can say more, Valeriya appears in the doorway of the bathroom, looking worried. “I’m all right,” I say before she asks. “I was just having a conversation with Liv and felt faint. I need to eat.” I flash my worried-looking friend a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She looks uncertain but nods. “Enjoy your date.”
“I will.” As Valeriya and I walk toward the exit, I focus on my breathing, pushing away the thoughts trying to surface. Just tired. Just stressed. Nothing more.
Fydor opens the car door when he sees us approaching. “Everything okay, Mrs. Antonova?”
“Fine.” I slide into the backseat. “Just needed to grab my purse.”
As the car pulls away from the hospital a second time, I press my forehead against the cool window glass and make a production of eating the granola bar in my purse, aware of Valeriya watching me. The city lights blur together, creating streaks of color against the darkness. My stomach protests for a moment, but then it settles as the food hits, and I start to feel immediately better.
My hand drifts to my stomach, then quickly moves to the emerald at my throat instead. Just tired. Just in love with a man I never expected to love. Just a little stress. Nothing more.