69
Uncertain future
I had been hospitalized for three days.
Romeo and I were in different rooms, as Massimo had insisted that he didn't want his son and me sharing space until everything was clarified and he could talk to him. He must have thought I would get up at night and strangle him with the cable from the device monitoring my blood pressure.
I know my mother raised hell about it, though the capo didn't care much. It didn't matter that he had heard Andrey's version, Segarra's, and even Cheng's, who was recovering in the same hospital and barely made it.
The Chinese woman had survived by the skin of her teeth.
If she hadn't reached the phone and called 112 for help, she would be underground. Deep down, I was glad; in the days we spent together, we understood that we weren't so different, that our greatest sin was being born women in a world created for men, where we were denigrated by absurd laws.
A woman only needs a good reason to become the most destructive, vengeful, and bloodthirsty being to ever walk the Earth.
The police car siren we heard belonged to Segarra. After Romeo asked him for Yuri's location and offered him a lot for it, he wasn't at ease, sensing something very bad was happening and decided to come to lend a hand.
As soon as he made a visual inspection, he found Romeo. He was very badly injured, and Segarra improvised a compression bandage with his jacket while calling for a second ambulance, unaware of Cheng’s call.
Romeo was still conscious. I know the first thing he asked the cop was to find his wife before passing out.
So, when Segarra saw the twisted wreckage of R's car, after shouting my name several times and getting no response, he followed his intuition.
It wasn't hard for him to imagine I might be behind the cargo drop and climbed up to the cab. I was so weak that, even though I heard him calling, I couldn’t respond.
The hospital would need a good campaign to recruit blood donors after that night. With the transfusions they had to give the three of us, I'm convinced we depleted their reserves.
Until today, the doctor had forbidden visits. My blood pressure had spiked a bit, and I needed to stay calm.
I was pleased that the first ones permitted to come through the door were Andrey and Aleksa.
The latter was in a hospital wheelchair and the wonderful gown we all wore.
He looked a bit tense, uncomfortable when Andrey wheeled him closer and he locked his dark eyes on mine, somewhat embarrassed.
“How are you feeling?” was the question that broke the ice.
“I expected more from you than an elevator question,” I joked. He made an embarrassed face, and I didn't want to upset him too much. The fact that he had come to see me was already a big step. “Just kidding. Considering I could have died, I’m doing well. Especially now that I know the bastard who did this was my brother. And you?”
"I'm progressing well according to my doctor. It won't be long before I'm discharged, although this time I've had to promise to obey the rest orders, or they've threatened to put me in a straitjacket for life." I offered a measured smile.
"Then we should find you a more qualified nurse than last time. Apparently, she was too lenient with you."
"My caregiver last time, although he had very little patience with my demands," he interrupted me, "was perfect, and I don't want anyone to take care of me other than Andrey," he concluded, raising a hand to find the hand of the nominated caregiver of the year. He entwined his fingers with my man's, and his face turned red.
With how much Andrey loved public displays of affection! I almost burst out laughing; it looked like someone had stroked his balls with a hedgehog.
Seeing the approval in my gaze, he relaxed a little. Watching two men like them, in love and willing to show their relationship in front of me, filled me with joy.
In my country, they wouldn't have been able to show affection openly. And that Aleksa had stepped forward, when Andrey told me he didn't want to say anything to his men, made me happy because my right-hand man had finally found someone he fit with and could enjoy a relationship with.
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, adding a bit more emotion to the response.
"And you accept the double job?"
"What choice do I have? I don't trust anyone else to manage him."
"Then that's settled, I declare you patient and caregiver, you can juggle your two jobs," I winked, and they both smiled.
"The doctor told me the visit should be brief and I don't want to disturb you too much; the reason I wanted to be the first to come in is because I wanted to offer you an apology, Mrs. Koroleva."
I raised my eyebrows and attentively observed Aleksa's presumed discomfort.
"And why is that?"
"For doubting you when you didn't deserve it." That I did not expect.
"You were doing your job; doubting everyone and everything just shows you cared about R. If it weren't for that, my brother might not be pushing up daisies now, so you don't owe me any apology, rather, I owe you thanks. First, for making this stubborn Russian's eyes shine and giving him back a joy that should never have been taken from him." My man's cheeks turned even redder. "And second, for being so loyal to my husband, that says a lot about the man you are. I couldn't wish for anyone better for Andrey as a partner. You have my blessing."
"I... didn't expect this," he murmured, embarrassed.
"Good, because I don't think you'll hear me repeat it, I'm not one for this kind of display, so be satisfied and take care of my man until the end of your days."
Aleksa gave a low laugh combined with a sign of pain.
"At this rate, I don't know who will take care of whom. Damn ribs!"
"You could ask to have them removed like Cher, that way we avoid any trouble," Andrey murmured near his ear.
Aleksa frowned, and this time it was me who laughed.
"Ouch!" I complained, bringing my hand to the wounded area, covered by the bandage.
"You see! With your nonsense, you've hurt my boss, apologize," my husband's right-hand man protested.
"Your boss? She's mine!" my Russian retorted.
"Now she's mine too, she's earned my desire to protect her with my life," Aleksa said with total seriousness. Andrey snorted, and I thought they made a perfect couple, they'd never be bored.
Aleksa had the spark that blew up the ex-military man's iron control.
"I just hope my husband thinks the same as you. He might not want to stay by my side after what happened. He offered me the divorce papers; it would be as easy as asking me to sign them, as his signature is already there."
The Croatian-Colombian looked at me with wide eyes.
"Are you joking? If your husband doesn't want you after everything you've done for him and is capable of asking you to sign, I'll marry you."
The laughter that burst out of me hurt, especially seeing Andrey's scowling expression, which was priceless.
"Get him out of here before I accept and take your guy!" I exclaimed, amused. "After how hard it was for you to fall in love, it wouldn't be fair for me to keep him."
"That would be best," Andrey concluded. Aleksa's left hand flew over mine before the chair started moving.
"One last thing." He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze. "What you did for your husband wasn't easy, stepping in the path of a bullet and ending your own brother for him, you have all my respect. And if no one tells you, you deserve every ounce of forgiveness, loyalty, and recognition from the entire Capulet family. I hope the 'Ndrangheta and yours live up to such an important feat as yours." His words moved me and touched me deeply.
I offered him a nod, and he released my hand.
"Get well, boss, we need you."
"You too. Andrey, take care of him, this Aleksa is much better than the one from Amazon."
"Don't worry, I will."
Andrey asked for permission to leave the room, and they turned around.
I heard my man mutter to him before reaching the door.
"It's very ugly to try to steal the woman of the man who pays your salary while your partner is in front of you and he's unconscious in the other room."
"Jealous?"
"Like hell."
"I'm glad to hear it."
The door closed, and I was left with a smile on my lips. That visit gave me a bit of hope. I hoped Aleksa wasn't wrong and that what I had done was enough for R to forgive me.
The weight of killing Yuri would be something I had to live with for the rest of my days. Even though I knew there was no other solution for him, it still hurt. It was a small, sharp thorn that pierced my chest every time I remembered what had happened in the last few weeks and the fatal outcome.
As much as I wanted to convince myself that I had done the right thing, he was one of the pillars of my life for many years, my role model, my playmate, and that hurt.
The memories of that boy who lit up my days gave way to those of the man who darkened them. Yuri had turned out to be a mean and unscrupulous person, capable of anything to achieve his goals, even playing with the lives of the people who were his family.
Realizing this hurt a lot, I'm not going to deny it. However, I was convinced that if Romeo hadn't come into my life, if I hadn't fallen in love with him so viscerally, I wouldn't have been able to kill Yuri, even knowing he had used me.
Maybe that's why it was so hard for me, maybe that's why I hadn't been able to tell Romeo the truth, because I was afraid of making that decision.
Now I had to deal with the consequences. I swam in uncertainty about how the president would react to what I had done. Maybe he would demote me and demand that I leave the Bratva. Or if R decided to divorce me, he might force me to marry his chosen one. If so, I would renounce the Bratva because I didn't want to feel like anyone's object again.
It would be difficult, but not impossible, I would change my identity and my face. I would do the same for my mother and sisters because the mafiya doesn't let you leave so easily.
We would start from scratch anywhere in the world. We wouldn't lack courage. We would build our own empire from nothing, I was sure of that. They might try to step on a Koroleva, but they would never crush her, and although it would hurt immensely to give up Romeo and it would take time to heal, I would rise just like my child was doing, who had proven to be a true warrior.
I placed my hand on my nonexistent belly and tried to convey the pride I felt for not being defeated.
The door opened, and I came face to face with a face I didn't expect.