Chapter 46
MELANI
The guys help Vanya into the back of the van, and I crawl in after them.
I’m both surprised and grateful to see the space has already been repurposed into a makeshift emergency vehicle, complete with a small cot bolted to the floor and a collection of medical supplies.
All this couldn’t have been set up in the few minutes we were trapped in the warehouse—they came prepared.
A woman wearing blue scrubs underneath a doctor’s coat is already waiting for us, and the second Vanya is placed on the cot, she straps him in and starts assessing him.
“No.” Vanya pushes her hands away. “Check her first.”
“No fucking way,” I glower down at him. “If you don’t cooperate, I’m going to get out of this damn van so fast it will make your head spin.”
For the first time since I’ve known him, he rolls his eyes, but I can see him swallow the rest of his protests. By now, he knows I mean my threats. As I take a seat on the small sideways chair next to his cot, my eyes meet his brother Dimitri’s, and he mouths a silent “Thank you.”
My brows furrow. What is he thanking me for? But I nod anyway, then shift my attention to Vanya, grabbing his hand as the doctor sets up an IV line. Dimitri and Luka get out of the back of the van, locking the door behind them before moving to the front, Luka taking the driver’s seat.
“Aleksei?” Vanya asks as the van rumbles to life.
Dimitri glances back. “He’s fine. As soon as we got out, we caught the man who threw the grenade.” A scowl crosses his face. “We didn’t realize you were still trapped in there and made him croak.”
“Find anything useful?” Vanya grunts, closing his eyes when the doctor starts cutting away the fabric around his knees.
“Careful,” I warn her, and she frowns but says nothing.
“Arabelle is the best,” Luka says, his eyes finding her in the rearview mirror. Is it just me, or does his gaze linger on the doctor? “Trust me, Vanya is in good hands.”
Vanya squeezes my hand. “I’m fine.” Then he twists his head towards Dimitri. “Well?”
His brother smirks. “We got the location where the fuckers are keeping our men. Aleksei went there with a small army, while Luka and I came back inside to save your sorry ass.”
They got the location. Hope swells in my chest. This is the moment of truth. Luciano—will he be among the captives, or did he really run off on his own? Now that the information is closer than ever, a feeling of impatience rushes through me. Aleksei should hurry up.
“How did Luka even get in?”
“After the grenade went off, everything went to shit. Security abandoned the checkpoint, people ran out in panic, and some tried to put out the fire. I slipped in during that chaos and called Belle, just in case we’d need her.
” He lingers on her again as he glances back, his tongue almost caressing her name.
“You have fractures in both legs,” Belle says to Vanya. “But with a few weeks of rest, you should be fully healed. You were lucky.”
The breath I let out is long and shaky and takes a huge amount of tension with it. I had been doing the math on worst-case scenarios in my head since I saw that beam, and none of them were good.
Belle turns to me next. “I need to check you too.”
I nod, letting her guide me through a quick exam.
After a few pokes and prods, she declares me bruised, smoke-irritated, and otherwise intact, which sounds about right.
The adrenaline is still running interference between me and whatever my body actually feels, so she warns I would probably crash from aches once that wears off. I’ll take it.
She cleans the small cut on my face with antiseptic and covers it up with a Disney princess bandage that makes me grin despite myself.
Then before I know it, we’re rolling into the underground parking lot at Vanya’s hotel.
A few of his men are already waiting for us, and when Luka opens the back doors, Vanya scowls.
“I’m not getting in a damn wheelchair like an invalid. ”
I smack his arm. “Yes, you are.” What the fuck is it with men and the need to prove they’re strong all the time? He grumbles but allows himself to be helped into the wheelchair.
I wave Luka off and take the handles myself, pushing him towards the elevator while his men fall in around us. I catch Boris’s wide eyes and wince. “I’m sorry,” I mouth, but he just glances away without a word. The guilt stings, but there’s no time to dwell on it.
Vanya keeps grumbling as we enter the elevator alongside Luka, Dimitri, Belle, and two of his men. The rest will take the next elevator. When the doors close, Vanya shifts slightly in the chair, probably testing whether his legs will hold if he tries to stand. I put my hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t.”
He subsides with a sound that’s not quite a word.
“I ought to tip you out of this chair just to prove a point.” I scowl down at the back of his head.
He glances back at me with a grin that hits me right in the sternum. “You wouldn’t. You love me.”
My vision narrows until it’s just the two of us. “Yes, I do,” I admit unashamedly.
I could have lost him. Like, really lost him.
My heart pangs with an echo of the fear and terror I felt in that warehouse—the moment I understood that leaving him was never actually an option.
Because I knew I would never be able to move on from him, from this.
Better to go out together than to live on as a shell of myself.
His hand moves up to cover mine on the backrest of the wheelchair. “And I love you.”
Someone clears their throat, and the elevator returns to reality, filled with the rest of the people around us.
They all studiously avoid looking at us, and the second the doors slide open on our floor, they practically rush out.
I carefully push Vanya out towards the front door, which Luka is holding open, and don’t try to hide my smile.
Only after he’s settled in his bed and Belle has him sorted with medication and instructions he’ll probably ignore, do I remember: Mamma.
I sit up quickly, and he frowns at me. “What is it?”
“I need to call my mom.” I’m already halfway off the bed. “Can I use your phone?”
Dimitri steps forward, pulling his phone out of his breast pocket.
I take it with a quiet, “Thank you,” then dial her number from memory.
The line rings and rings, but she doesn't pick up.
I dial her again, pacing the small strip of floor beside the bed, chewing the inside of my cheek.
Come on, come on, come on. Answer the call, Mamma.
She finally picks up but says nothing—which is understandable. We never answer calls from unknown numbers. The fact that she picked up at all is a miracle.
“Mamma, it’s me.”
“Melani!” The relief in her voice is palpable. “Where are you? Are you alright? I saw the news about the fire. I’m on my way to the warehouse now—”
“No, no—I’m fine,” I rush out. “I’m back at Korona with Vanya. Come here.”
She hesitates, and I don’t blame her. This is a complete 180 from my previous plan to run away with her. “Am I on speaker?”
I glance at Vanya and Dimitri, but they’re having their own murmured conversation and not paying attention to me at all. So I walk towards the ensuite and slip inside. “No, you’re not.”
“Is he making you stay with him again? He’s holding you hostage, isn’t he?”
“No, Mamma.” I close the door behind me and rest my back against it. “I almost lost him.” My voice breaks, and she inhales sharply but lets me continue. “In the fire… he got trapped, but I couldn’t leave him. I can’t leave him, Mamma. So no, he’s not making me.”
A long pause. “You love him.”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t argue. She just says, “I’m coming there now,” and the line ends.
I stand against the door for a moment after, then make my way to the sink. My hair is a mess, half my face black with soot, tear tracks cutting through the grime. And right in the middle of it all—a Disney princess bandage. I wash my face, careful around the bandage, and slip back into the bedroom.
“Everything okay?” Vanya asks. He’s alone in the room now. We’re finally alone.
My stomach clenches nervously as I slide into the bed next to him. “Everything’s fine. She’s on her way.” I hand him Dimitri’s phone, and he sets it on the nightstand.
“I got your letter.”
For a moment, I just blink at him. What letter? Then it clicks—oh… the one I wrote when I thought I was leaving him forever. What did I say in there again?
“Were you planning to leave me because I didn’t let you come with me, or because of something else? Like your brother?"
I chew my lip. “Both? I felt like I wasn’t on equal footing with you. Although I understand now what you meant about the danger and why you didn’t want me there.” I pause. “I understand, but it doesn’t mean I like it.”
He nods. “I’ve never been in love before, so I’m probably going to fuck up a few times.
But one thing is non-negotiable: your safety.
I wouldn’t survive losing you, Milani. So, I’m sorry to say, but even knowing how that meeting turned out—and your little escape attempt—I still wouldn’t have taken you with me. ”
I take a moment to reflect, and I realize I don’t resent him for it. “Knowing what I know now,” I say quietly, “I wouldn't have let you go to that meeting either.”
He chuckles and finally wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in against his side. “And what did you mean, don’t punish the men? They lost you. They failed at their job. They’re going to get punished soon.”
I sigh, running my hand over his chest. “Can you not, please? I think Boris might hate me a little now. Punishing him would just make the situation worse.”
“He can’t hate you. And if he does, he’s losing his life.”
“Vanya!” I gasp up at him. Sometimes I forget the ruthless enforcer he really is. “You can’t just say things like that.”
He shrugs, unrepentant. “I almost lost you because of their damn incompetence. I let it slide the first time. Don’t ask me to let it slide again, Milani.”
“Just–just go easy on them, okay?”
He squeezes my waist in answer, which isn’t a yes, but it’s something.
“I have news from Aleksei.” I push away from him, my stomach squirming, heart pounding as I brace for the verdict.
“Luciano isn’t among the men in their facility.
The workers were interrogated, and they swore everyone they kidnapped is accounted for. ”
So he wasn’t kidnapped. Relief hits, but worry claws right behind it. If he’s not there… then where the hell is he? How could he just disappear without a word? Without looking back? Is he even okay?
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Vanya says as if he can read my mind. He tries to sit up, but I press him back down. He frowns, then gives in when I slide back into his arms.
“I hope so.”
“I’ll use every resource my brothers and I have to track him down,” he promises, and I drop a kiss on his smoke-scented neck in gratitude.
“In the meantime,” he continues, “we’re getting married.
As soon as I can walk without that fucking wheelchair.
I’m making your stay here legal—yours and your family’s.
I won’t risk you being taken away from me by the government or any other fucker. ”
“How romantic,” I say dryly, and he pinches my waist.
“Just you wait, I’ll give you romance.”