Chapter Twenty-Six
Valentina
I sit frozen on the plastic chair outside his hospital room.
The heavy double doors are shut tight. He just came out of surgery.
The nurses have already told me twice that the procedure was a success and that he’s going to be okay, but they won't let me inside to see him right now. My heart hurts so intensely it feels like a physical deformity in my chest, like it’s going to burst through my ribs and crawl out onto the linoleum floor right in front of me.
He’s going to be okay. That’s what they said. He’s going to be okay. The bullet did not hit any major blood vessels.
I keep mumbling the words over and over and over again. He’s going to be okay. The bullet did not hit any major blood vessels. He’s going to be okay.
The cushion next to me indents as someone sits down. I don't even have the strength to lift my head until a familiar hand gently pats my arm.
"He's going to be okay, Valentina," Marcus comforts me. "They told you so. Stop crying."
Am I crying? I slowly lift a hand to my face, my fingertips coming away damp. I didn't even realize the tears were falling.
"He's so strong," Marcus adds. "He'll recover from this like it's absolutely nothing. Trust me."
I hope, I think, my chest heaving. I hope so fucking much. But I can't talk. I can barely even breathe.
Marcus leans his elbows on his knees. "Sarah and Noah are both in custody," he says quietly. "Sarah completely broke down in the interrogation room... there's so much proof against them. They're done."
I nod slowly. I want them both behind bars for the rest of their miserable lives.
Sarah almost cost me the only person in this entire world who truly loved me for me.
They were both going to take him away from me, or take me away from him.
Just remembering that she pointed a gun at my head and shot the man who threw himself in front of me makes me want to tear them apart with my bare hands.
But I can't do that. So instead, I’m going to make sure my legal team presses for the absolute maximum sentence.
I gave Sarah so many options in that office.
And yet, she still chose to pull the trigger.
"Everything is going to be okay," Marcus repeats, his hand resting on my shoulder.
I swallow past the dry lump in my throat, forcing my voice box to finally work. "Thank you, Marcus," I whisper.
When I finally turn my head to look at him, I notice that his eyes are ringed with red. He has been crying too. Viktor is so fucking loved.
A young nurse in blue scrubs steps out into the corridor.
"Are you Valentina?" she asks quietly.
I bolt upright from the plastic chair. "Yes. Is he okay? Did something happen?"
"He's stable, but he's waking up from the anesthesia and he's incredibly combative," the nurse sighs.
"Strictly speaking, you're not supposed to be inside the recovery ward yet.
Visitors aren't allowed until he's moved to a private room.
But... he keeps calling for you. He won't let the staff get near him. "
For the first time in my entire life, I plead. I don't demand, and I don't threaten.
"Can I please go inside?" I beg, trying to control my tears. "Please. Just let me see him."
The nurse bites her lower lip, glancing down the empty hallway before sighing softly. She steps aside, holding the door open. "Just for a moment. Keep him calm so his heart rate doesn't spike."
"Thank you. Thank you so much," I whisper as I rush past her.
I follow the sound of Viktor's voice until I find the curtained cubicle.
He's stretched across the narrow hospital bed, his left shoulder buried beneath layers of white gauze.
A dark stain of blood seeps through the center of the bandage.
An IV line is taped to the back of his right hand, disappearing into a bag of clear fluid beside him. The narcotics have left him dazed.
"Valentina..." he rasps. His eyes wander wildly until they lock onto me. "Valentina... are you okay?"
"I'm right here," I choke out, rushing to the side of the bed. I immediately take his uninjured hand in both of mine, pressing it against my cheek. "I'm perfectly fine, Viktor. You saved me. Thank you."
He looks down at the IV line in his hand, the heart monitor beside him beeping at a terrifying pace.
"Get them off me," he breathes, a sudden, childlike terror bleeding into his face. "Valentina, make them stop. They keep pushing needles into me... I don't want to fuck anyone else. Tell them I won't do it."
Fuck. My heart shatters. The anesthesia has reminded him of the trafficking rings. To him, needles mean being restrained and prepared for someone else's consumption.
"You're not in the brothel, Viktor. You're in a hospital because you took a bullet for me. No one is ever going to force you to do anything like that again."
His grip tightens weakly around my fingers. He looks down at the plastic tube taped to his skin, a flush of boyish embarrassment creeping up his neck.
"Get up here," he whispers, nudging his uninjured side against the narrow mattress, trying to make space. "Please. Get on the bed with me."
"Viktor, the nurses said—"
"I don't give a fuck what they said," he grumbles, his usual stubbornness peeking through. "I'm scared of the needles, Valentina. Hold me down so I don't rip it out."
My eyes sting with tears, but I can't stop the smile that breaks across my face.
I slip off my boots and climb onto the hospital bed, curling against Viktor's uninjured side. Careful not to jostle his shoulder, I lay my head on his chest and wrap an arm around his waist.
His arms tighten around me as much as they can. He presses his face into my hair, and almost instantly, the monitors ease into a calm rhythm.
Viktor’s lips brush softly against the shell of my ear.
"I heard you," he whispers. "In the office... when I was fading out. I heard what you said."
"What?" I whisper, my heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.
He looks up at me through his dark lashes.
"I heard you say it first," he murmurs, his fingers weakly tangling in my hair to pull me closer. "And I love you more, Valentina."
Overwhelming happiness overflows in my chest.
"I love you too, Viktor," I breathe against his lips.
"Forever?" he rasps, his thumb caressing my jawline.
"Forever," I promise him.