It’s a somber and precious moment when I catch her eyes. Our souls stare and our hearts beat in time. I know there’s hell all around us, but I can’t believe how lucky I am to be the man she loves. She kisses me again before I roll her back onto the bed and get up. I lift the covers for her and she crawls beneath. For the first time ever, I see peace in her features as she watches me dress. Anya deserves that peace, even if it’s only for a few hours. We’re safe here together on this plane…for now.
I put my pants back on and finally remove my shirt, leaving it behind on the bed as something for Anya to wear later. Then I leave her to sleep peacefully as I return to Nikolai in the main cabin.
Blood trickles from his side, soaking the side of the leather couch and pooling on the carpet beneath, staining it crimson. My heart thumps an extra beat when I notice his eyes are closed.
Fuck.
Did we miss our opportunity for answers and assurances because we couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves?
My hands land on top of my head, fingers locking together as I force out a steadying breath. I drop my hands against my sides with a slap before crossing to him. His head turns toward me and his eyes open slowly. I never thought I would be relieved to see that Nikolai Mikhailov still lives and breathes.
“I’m still alive, in case you cared,” he murmurs. “You might have been quieter fucking my slave,” he pauses to draw in a ragged breath, “just in case I live.” He chuckles darkly.
“She’s no more your slave than I am right now. You’re weak, Nikolai. You’re dying.”
“If you came to ask something of me, you’re doing a very poor job of it.”
I move beside him, kneeling on the carpet next to the pooling blood. “You said you would keep Lidia and Emma safe. I want you to make that happen.”
He sighs. “Give me my cell phone.”
My head tilts with surprise. His concession without taunting is jarring, but I won’t squander the opportunity. I pull his phone from my back pocket where I stored it for safe-keeping and hold it out for him. He unlocks it with his fingerprint, then drops his hand, too weak and too tired to hold it up. He directs me through his contact list, and I scroll until I find Contractors, NY—his hired mercenaries on contract in New York City, where both Emma and Lidia happen to reside.
With a pinch of anxiety, I tap the contact and put it on speakerphone for him. It only rings once before the other line picks up, but no one says hello.
Instead, Nikolai asks, “Is the weather better today?”
I squint my eyes in confusion.
“The weather is better than yesterday. What can I do for you, sir?” Comes the reply from the other end of the line.
Was that some sort of verbal code?
“Remove the trace and threat on Antonov and Mayfield.”
“You’re certain, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Consider it done. They’ll be left alone and unharmed.”
“Thank you.”
That’s it? This whole time…It was that fucking easy?
I have a sudden feeling of terror that he’s joking, that he’s about to say he’s kidding and order the contractor to murder Emma and Lidia immediately, just as a final fuck you to me and Anya. So, I quickly tap to end the call before he can say anything else and set the phone aside where he can’t reach it.
“Now, tell me how you can keep Anya safe from the four families.”
“I’ll tell you, but I want you to promise me something. “
“You’re not in a position to ask for favors.”
“Neither are you, mal’chik. You can let me die without ever knowing,” he takes a shuddering breath, “what I’ve done for her.”
Goddammit.
I need answers.
I swallow my pride and force down the tick of righteousness that swells in my chest. “Fine.”
“Promise me you won’t tell her anything until we’re back at Mikhailov Manor. If I die before then, you can tell her what you want.”
“What does it matter if I tell her now or wait?”
“I don’t know…it doesn’t. I suppose I’m hoping for a final dramatic revelation of how I’ve changed her life and saved her. And I’d like that to happen in my own home.” He gasps another ragged breath. “But I don’t know if I’ll make it until then.” His eyes meet mine dead on and pierce me in his gray stare. “I almost don’t care if I die. But if I do, I’d like it to be in my own home, Ezra.”
Ezra, not mal’chik.
Shit.
The use of my name in his plea reminds me that he’s human—a fucking shitty one, but a human, nonetheless. The words spill out before I can think better of them. “You have a private doctor, don’t you?”
Why did I even say that?
I don’t want this bastard to get medical treatment.
I want him to die.
Still, the human part of me insists that help be offered, if only for the sake of proving to myself that I’m a better man than he is.
“Don’t call him. I don’t think I can be saved.”
It’s like he’s already given up. It’s possible his wounds could be healed with proper medical treatment, but without…he’ll continue to bleed until he dies.
He knows that.
And he doesn’t care.
I sigh. “Okay. I promise. I won’t say a word to Anya until we get back.”
“Good. Thank you.”
His stare softens before he presses his eyes shut, sucking in a breath through his nose to steady himself. When he opens them again, he looks somehow…haunted. But there’s no more time to delay in decoding his expression.
“Tell me everything.”
Chapter 3
Anya
I’m thankful Ezra encouraged me to rest on the plane. I’m surprised by the fact that I was able to sleep at all, let alone the remainder of the flight. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe aboard that plane, even when I knew it was only temporary. I knew Ezra would watch over me, and Nikolai was incapacitated, leaving all threats to my life behind on the ground.
We’d transferred to a helicopter after we landed at the Mikhailovs’ private airstrip in Russia. Ezra and the pilot dragged a bleeding Nikolai yet again from one aircraft to the other. We took off silently into the night, not a word from any of us as we approached the Mikhailovs’ vast landscape.