Chapter 33Valerian
33
Valerian
A piercing scream echoes through the dank corridors of Eastern State Penitentiary, followed by Matvey’s enraged shouts. My heart leaps. I’ve found them.
I sprint toward the sound, my footsteps thundering against the aged concrete floor.
As I round the corner, a hulking figure lunges at me. Bruno, Matvey’s right-hand man. His meaty fist swings for my face, but I duck under it, feeling the rush of air as it passes over my head. I drive my shoulder into his midsection, using his momentum against him. We crash into the wall, the impact rattling my teeth.
Bruno recovers quickly, grabbing my throat with one hand. I struggle for air as he lifts me off my feet. My vision blurs, but I manage to slam my knee into his groin. He grunts in pain, his grip loosening just enough for me to break free.
I don’t waste the opportunity. My fist connects with his jaw in a vicious uppercut. His head snaps back, and I follow up with a series of rapid strikes to his face and body. Blood sprays from his nose as I land a particularly solid hit.
Bruno staggers, dazed but still standing. I need to end this quickly. I feint left, then drive my right elbow into his temple when he moves to block. The big man’s eyes roll back, and he crumples to the floor, unconscious.
Breathing heavily, I turn toward the door where I heard Matvey’s voice. I draw my gun, the weight of it reassuring in my hand. I burst into the cell, my gun raised and ready. The scene before me freezes my blood. Claire lies motionless on the grimy floor, her golden hair fanned out around her head like a halo. Beside her, a man’s body sprawls at an unnatural angle, a syringe protruding from his eye socket.
A thin trail of blood trickles from her temple, and Matvey stands over her, his face contorted with rage, a gun in his hand. “Valerian, how kind of you to join us.”
I keep my gun trained on him, fighting the urge to rush to Claire’s side. “Step away from her.”
He laughs, a harsh, grating sound. “Or what? You’ll shoot me? Go ahead, but I promise you, I’ll take her with me.”
My jaw clenches as I assess the situation. Matvey’s finger hovers over the trigger, his gun pointed at Claire’s unconscious form. Even if I manage to hit him, there’s a chance his dying reflex could pull the trigger.
“Let’s talk about this,” I say, forcing my voice to remain calm. “Whatever you want, we can work out something.”
Matvey’s lip curls in disgust. “What I want? I want my brother back, you bastard, but you took him from me, didn’t you?”
“It was different with Ansily, Matvey. Your brother started a war?—”
“Shut up,” he roars, his gun hand shaking. “You don’t get to talk about him. You don’t even get to say his name.”
I take a cautious step forward. I need to keep him talking and distract him long enough to get an opening.
“Think about what you’re doing. Claire has nothing to do with this. She’s innocent.”
Matvey’s laugh is bitter. “Innocent? She’s carrying your child, Valerian. Your legacy. Your family . Just like you took mine, I’m going to take yours.”
It’s the second time he’s insisted that, and I still don’t know if he’s saying it just to toy with me, or if Claire is pregnant with my child. I struggle to keep my face impassive, but my pulse jumps.
Suddenly, commotion erupts in the hallway. Dmitri bursts into the room, grappling with two of Matvey’s men. They crash into the bed, sending it skidding across the floor with an ear-splitting screech.
Matvey’s attention flickers for a split second, shifting his gun away from Claire. It’s all the opening I need. I lunge forward, tackling him to the ground. His gun goes off, the bullet embedding itself in the ceiling. We grapple on the floor, trading blows. His fist connects with my jaw, sending stars exploding across my vision, but I retaliate with an elbow to his nose, feeling cartilage crunch beneath the impact.
Blood streams down Matvey’s face as we roll across the floor, each fighting for control. I manage to pin him down, pressing my forearm against his throat. His eyes bulge as he gasps for air. “It’s over,” I say harshly. “Surrender now, and I’ll let you live.”
He spits blood in my face. “Never.”
With a surge of strength, he bucks me off and scrambles for his fallen gun, but I’m faster. My fingers close around the grip, and I bring it up just as he lunges at me again.
I fire.
Once.
Twice.
Matvey stumbles back, red blossoming across his chest. He looks down at the wounds in disbelief, then back up at me. His lips move, but no sound comes out. He takes one more staggering step before collapsing to the floor.
I rush to Claire’s side. “Claire, are you okay?” My voice comes out low and strained with worry. She doesn’t respond at first, and panic grips me. “Claire, wake up. Please, wake up!”
Finally, her eyes flutter open. Her face is pale, but there’s awareness in her eyes that makes my chest tighten with relief. I pull her into my arms, holding her close. The scent of her fills my senses. I never want to let her go again.
“Dmitri?” I shout over my shoulder. “Clear the building. Secure the perimeter. I want every inch of this place swept. Confine all the Petrov soldiers that survived. Shove them in these cells until I figure out what do to with them.”
Dmitri nods sharply and starts issuing rapid-fire orders into his radio. In seconds, my men move to carry out my commands.
I turn back to Claire, gently cupping her face in my hands. Her skin is cool to the touch, and a bruise is already forming along her cheekbone, where Matvey must have struck her. Anger flares in me at the sight, but I push it down. She needs me calm right now.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” I ask, scanning her for any visible injuries.
She shakes her head slightly, then winces. “Just sore. My feet have some scratches. My palms and knees from a fall… But mostly, my head...” She trails off, her brow wrinkling in confusion when she takes in our surroundings. “Valerian, what happened? Where’s Matvey?”
“He’s dead,” I say simply. “He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe now.”
Relief fills her expression, followed quickly by emotions I can’t quite decipher. She opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, her eyes filling with tears.
I pull her close once more, pressing a fierce kiss to her forehead. “It’s over, Claire. The Petrov Syndicate’s reign of terror ends today. I’ll make sure of it.”
She nods against my chest, curling her fingers into the fabric of my shirt. We stay like that for a long moment, just holding each other. The chaos around us fades away, and all I can focus on is the steady beat of her heart against mine.
She finally pulls back. “We should go,” she says softly. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.”
I nod, helping her to her feet. She sways slightly, and I wrap an arm around her waist to steady her. As we make our way out of the cell, she hesitates over the body of the man on the floor. “I killed him.” She sounds dispassionate, but perhaps with a hint of pride. “It was him or me.”
“I have no doubt, lyubimaya .” I sweep her into my arms to preserve her tender feet, and because she’s clearly dizzy. She feels like no burden at all in my current state as we navigate the maze-like corridors of “Eastern State Penitentiary,” passing by my men as they secure the area.
We pass a woman huddling on the floor, looking frightened. I almost pause to ask, but a glance a Claire’s satisfied expression keeps me moving forward. “You know her?”
“I know enough to say she deserves whatever she gets.”
I nod, and soon, we exit the prison. The moonlight catches in her hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow. Seeing her mostly whole and uninjured, and out of that place, fills me with emotions I can’t untangle, and a lump in my throat.
I cough to clear it before blurting out, “Claire?” My voice is rough with emotion. “I love you.”
Her eyes widen for a moment before softening. She smiles slowly and tenderly. “I love you too, Valerian.”
I gently set her down but only to pull her into my arms, kissing her with all the passion and relief I’ve been holding back, though I’m still careful not to hurt her.. Her lips are soft against mine, and she melts into the embrace. When we finally break apart, both breathless, I rest my forehead against hers.
“Let’s go home,” I murmur.
She nods, and I lift and carry her again. Once she’s in the back of the SUV with me, and my pulse has slowed somewhat, I call Yuri. “I want that meeting as soon as possible. Matvey is dead, but this Lev should be the key to undoing every facet of his empire.”
“Will do, boss.” He hesitates. “Did you get back your woman?”
I nod though he can’t see it. I tighten my arms around her. “Yes. She’s where she belongs.”
She lets out a contented hum and snuggles closer. “Rest now,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Viktor returns to the SUV, looking a little battered and bloodied, but he gets behind the wheel without protest. Soon, he drives us through the dark streets of Philadelphia.
Claire’s breathing evens out as she drifts off to sleep, her body warm against mine. I tighten my arm around her, my mind drifting to Matvey’s words about her being pregnant. Is it true? The possibility fills me with myriad emotions, chiefly fear, excitement, and protectiveness.
Now isn’t the time to ask. Claire needs rest and medical attention, so everything else can wait. For now, I’m content to hold her close and savor this moment of peace we’ve fought so hard to achieve.
As the car winds its way through the quiet streets, I allow myself a small smile. A while later, when we pull up to the curb in front of the penthouse, which is the closer residence, I gently shake Claire awake. “We’re here,” I say softly.
She blinks sleepily, disoriented for a moment before recognition dawns. I help her out of the car, carrying her once more as we make our way up the lobby. The private elevator whisks us to the penthouse, and I’m not surprised to see Anatoly has beaten us here from the mansion.
“Welcome back, sir,” he says, his gaze flicking to Claire with concern. “I took the liberty of calling Dr. Neranov.”
I nod my thanks as we enter the house. I carry her straight to my bedroom, and she doesn’t protest, which tells me more about how she’s feeling than any words could. As we enter the room, Dr. Neranov looks up from where she’s arranging supplies. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of Claire, but she quickly masks her surprise with professional detachment.
“Sit here, please,” she says, patting the bed. “I’ll need to check for a concussion and any other injuries.”
I help Claire sit, and my hand lingers on her back. She gives me a small, reassuring smile before turning her attention to the doctor.
As Dr. Neranov begins her examination, I step back, giving them space. My phone buzzes in my pocket. Dmitri, no doubt, with an update on the situation at “Eastern State,” or perhaps Yuri with meeting details. I should take the call, but I can’t bring myself to leave Claire’s side just yet.
Instead, I watch as Dr. Neranov shines a light in Claire’s eyes, asks her to follow her finger, and probes gently at the bruise on her cheek. Claire winces occasionally but remains stoic throughout the examination.
Finally, the doctor steps back with a satisfied nod. “No signs of a concussion, thankfully. The bruising will be painful for a few days, but there’s no serious damage. I’ll give you some painkillers and anti-inflammatory medication.” She pauses, her gaze flicking to me before returning to Claire. “Is there anything else I should know? Any other concerns?”
I tense, wondering if she’s picking up on something I’ve missed, but Claire shakes her head. “No, that’s all. Thank you, Doctor.”
Dr. Neranov nods before she turns away to prepare the medications.
“You should rest now,” I tell Claire as Dr. Neranov hands her the pills and a glass of water moments later.
She swallows the medication and slides under the covers. “Will you stay with me?” she asks softly.
My heart swells at her request. “Of course. Always.” I get on the other side, and she rolls into my arms.
“Thank you for finding me.”
“I’ll always come for you, Claire. Always.” She snuggles closer, and she’s clearly exhausted. “Sleep now. I’ll be right here.”
“Always,” she whispers, sounding half-asleep, and curls even closer. I hold onto her with everything I have, determined to never let her go again.