Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hailey
This motel in Queens was the cheapest room I could afford with cash.
The wallpaper peeled at the edges, the AC wheezed like something dying, and the whole place reeked of mildew and cheap disinfectant. The sheets felt like sandpaper.
I didn't care anymore.
I sat on that creaking excuse for a bed, a half-open suitcase sprawled across my knees, stuffed with what little I owned.
Buddy curled at my feet, nudging my ankle with his wet nose like he could sense my misery.
I stroked his golden head, and tears spilled down my cheeks again.
I couldn't even look at him properly.
Because Natalia's words kept looping in my head—he looked just like the dog she'd given Viktor years ago.
Even this, my one fluffy comfort, had become a cruel joke.
Why did I ever think someone could actually love me?
I wiped my face and shoved the last piece of clothing into the suitcase.
When I'd moved out of that Upper East Side apartment, I hadn't hesitated.
I couldn't stand another second in that place—that gilded cage built on money and lies.
I'd rather sleep in this dump than owe him anything.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'd leave New York. Go somewhere far away, somewhere he'd never find me.
Just as I reached for the zipper—
Frantic pounding exploded against the door, the flimsy wood shuddering with every blow.
I jumped, head snapping up, heart launching into my throat.
This shithole had the worst security—junkies and thugs everywhere.
I swallowed hard and tiptoed to the door barefoot, peering through the scratched-up peephole.
In the flickering hallway light stood a man so tall he blocked everything else out.
He wore a rumpled black shirt, dark hair falling over half his face.
Viktor.
My breath stopped. My brain went blank. How did he find me here?
"Hailey! Open the door!"
His voice came through rough and broken.
I jerked back like I'd been burned.
No. I wouldn't open it. I refused to go back to being that pathetic replacement, refused to have my dignity crushed under someone's heel again.
I turned, stumbling toward the phone on the table to call the cops, but the instant I moved—
The peeling door exploded inward, kicked open from the outside.
It slammed into the wall. Buddy yelped and dove under the bed.
I leapt back, spinning around.
Viktor stood in the doorway.
He filled the entire frame, those ice-blue eyes locked on me.
My heart went wild.
Fear, shock, and that completely shattered hatred all surged up at once.
"Jesus Christ! Are you insane?" My voice came out raw and broken. Then reality kicked in, and I grabbed the shitty lamp from the nightstand, brandishing it at him as I backed away. "Get out! I don't want to see you!"
"Hailey." He stepped closer.
"Don't!" I screamed, tears breaking free. "Get the hell out! We're done! Viktor Ivanov, I never want to see you again!"
"Done?"
He repeated the word. The look in his eyes made my blood run cold.
He lunged forward. I hurled the lamp at him in panic, but he didn't even flinch—just let it graze his shoulder and shatter on the floor as he locked me against his chest.
"Let go! You bastard! Don't touch me!"
I thrashed like a wild cat, using every ounce of strength to push him away, nails raking uselessly across his shirt.
"Hailey! Stop!" Viktor's breath came hard, his arms like iron bars pinning me in place.
"Go back to Manhattan! Go back to your precious Natalia!" I shrieked hysterically, tears finally breaking loose again, streaming down my face. "I'm done! Done being some toy for you rich assholes to play with! Let go!"
"Let me explain!"
Viktor roared. He slammed me against the wall, hands clamping down on my shoulders.
His chest heaved, those bloodshot eyes boring into mine with something I couldn't read.
"Explain what? How I was stupid enough to fall for your bullshit?
" Tears poured down my face as I screamed out everything I'd been holding in, every poisonous word Natalia had planted in my head.
"Natalia! She's your childhood sweetheart, right?
You're about to marry her! She has green eyes just like me—when you look at me, who the hell are you really seeing? Viktor Ivanov, you make me sick!"
I screamed it all out until my voice cracked.
Viktor listened, his face darkening inch by inch.
"What goddamn lies did that psycho bitch tell you?" He snarled through gritted teeth, veins bulging at his temples.
He grabbed my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Listen! There's no arranged marriage! No old flame! That lunatic was shoved into the company by the Sorokovs. First thing I did when I got back was throw her out of the Ivanov building and cut all ties with her family. Forever!"
I froze, my struggling stopped, staring at him through tears.
"As for the dog—" Viktor leaned down until our noses almost touched, his breath hot and ragged.
"I don't even remember what damn dog she had ten years ago!
I bought him because outside that aquarium, you looked at him and smiled like an angel.
I just wanted to make you happy! Hailey, I have never seen you as anyone's replacement! "
Each word hit like a hammer to my chest.
I stared at him. His eyes held no lies—only the frantic desperation of someone who'd almost lost everything.
"But... but you disappeared for three days..." I choked out, voice shaking, my defenses crumbling. "I sent you so many messages, and you never replied. I was alone here while that woman crushed me. I thought you didn't want me anymore. I thought I'd been thrown away again..."
"I'm sorry, princess. I'm so sorry."
Viktor's voice suddenly softened, heavy with exhaustion and gravel. He pressed his forehead to mine.
"I went to an island in the Caribbean for an important deal.
It was a trap set by competitors—I got stranded, all communications destroyed.
" His tone was casual, like it was nothing.
"The second I got back to New York and saw your messages, I lost it.
Hailey, I swear, no matter what happens, I will never leave you to face those vultures alone again. "
I bit my lip, gripping his shirt tighter.
"Is that... all true?"
"If I'm lying, may I rot in hell." He didn't hesitate.
Every word Natalia had said in that car—about substitutes and nostalgia and unforgettable love—crumbled under his unvarnished truth.
Tears welled up again, but this time they carried something different—a bone-deep relief mixed with all that hurt.
I reached up to wrap my arms around his waist, but when my palm touched his left side—something warm and wet made me freeze.
A thick metallic smell suddenly hit my nose.
I pulled my hand back, trembling. In the dim light, my palm glistened with fresh blood.
"Viktor, you..." My pupils dilated as I looked down and saw the massive dark red stain spreading across his black shirt. Still spreading.
My brain went white. All that anger, hurt, despair—washed away in an instant by something more overwhelming.
"You're bleeding! You're hurt?" My voice shook. "God, there's so much blood! We need to call an ambulance right now!"
"It's nothing," he said.
"Nothing?" I nearly screamed, tears falling again—but this time for him. "You're this badly injured and you... you drove all the way to this dump to find me—Viktor Ivanov, are you out of your mind?"
"Shh, I'm fine. Won't kill me." Viktor pressed my shaking hand down and pulled me tight against him.
His grip was crushing, like he wanted to merge me into his bones.
"Just a little accident. Doctor already patched it up. I drove too fast getting here and tore it open again, that's all." He buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. "Don't move. Let me hold you. As long as you don't leave me, this is nothing."
My heart twisted painfully.
He'd dragged himself here with this wound, tearing through New York to explain those lies, to keep me from leaving.
I couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around his broad back—carefully avoiding the injury—and sobbed.
"I won't leave, I won't..." I pressed my face to his chest, tears soaking his shirt. "You maniac, do you have a death wish?"
In that cramped, shabby motel room, we held each other tight. All that suspicion, those lies and hurt—burned away in this blood-stained embrace.
Two hours later.
The black Maybach rolled out of Brooklyn and stopped at an ultra-exclusive, hidden luxury hotel in Tribeca.
Viktor's private doctor re-stitched his torn wound in the penthouse suite. I watched that terrifyingly deep gash, tears streaming down my face, while he just leaned back on the couch and lazily wiped my tears with his good hand, eyes full of satisfaction.
After the doctor left, it was just us and Buddy—retrieved by Yuri and now snoring on the carpet.
"Come with me."
Viktor changed into a loose navy silk robe, took my hand, and pushed open the massive glass doors to the outdoor terrace.
Manhattan's early autumn night breeze hit my face, carrying a slight chill.
But I was completely stunned by what I saw.
A huge, luxurious rooftop terrace surrounded by countless soft, warm candles. In the center sat a table draped in white linen, topped with chilled champagne and exquisite French cuisine. From here, the entire glittering New York skyline spread out below us like the city itself was at our feet.
"This is..." I covered my mouth, disbelieving.
"I planned to bring you here the night you moved into the new apartment." Viktor pulled me to the terrace edge and wrapped his arms around me from behind, chin resting on my head. "But too much happened. Hailey, I want to make up for everything you suffered these past days."
"You don't have to..." I leaned against his warm chest, voice soft. "As long as you're here, as long as it wasn't all lies—that's enough."
"Not enough." He turned me around, those deep blue eyes reflecting my image in the candlelight. "I want everyone to know you're the only one Viktor Ivanov has ever chosen."
The moment he finished speaking, a sharp whistle cut through the night sky.
I looked up instinctively.