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Diego, like Josephine, was the collateral damage that often accompanied the life Ivan led. He had been a pawn in a game he’d never signed up for, a casualty of circumstances beyond his control. He and I were alike in that way. For a moment, I wondered if I too would end up like them. Everything seemed to point in that direction.
I found myself lost in a sea of memories, each moment a piece of the puzzle that had brought us to this point. From the passionate night at the club to the discovery of my pregnancy, then Ivan kidnapping me after I found him in the alley to my forced engagement to him.
I felt so lost. A huge part of me was scared shitless when he collapsed on that surgical table, another part was uncertain whether I was sure I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.
A rustling sound drew my attention, and I rushed to the room to see Ivan stirring, his groggy gaze meeting mine. He attempted to rise, but I hurried to his side, my voice firm but gentle as I urged him to stay still.
I watched as his eyes fell to his patched-up arm, my heart aching at the sight. “The doctor fixed your wound and got the bullet out,” I explained, my fingers tracing the edges of the bandage. “He said you need to rest and let it heal.”
A small smile tugged at his lips as he relented, allowing me to serve him some food that had been made by Sarah.
As Ivan settled back, a semblance of calm returned to his features.
“So how long have I been out?" he asked.
"Only since last night," I replied. I thought I was going to lose him last night and the thought terrified me. It took one violent chaotic night to show me that everything could easily come crashing down and I had to cherish every moment I had.
"Ah. I thought I would have a case of Rumpelstiltskin here," he smirked.
"I-I think you mean Rip Van Winkle," I was astonished by my conflation, "My goodness, you really are terrible with books and stories." He chuckled lightly before wincing as the pain from his arm must've stung him.
"Where's the doctor though?" He asked as he looked around.
"He went to run an errand and he said he'd be back soon enough," I said as I rushed to his side. He was on his feet as he looked at the wound lightly, sucked in air and wore a light shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.
"What are you doing? You need to—"
"Sarah!" He called out as he left the room.
"Boss, you're awake," the woman bowed as she met us.
"Where is it? Where's the special phone I had given to you guys in case of emergencies?" He said anxiously.
"Right this way, Boss," the woman led him to her room and from a hidden compartment in the wall, she pulled out a small phone and handed it over to Ivan.
"Thank you, Sarah."
"What was all that about?" I asked, confused by what was going on.
"Sorry, I need to make this important call," he apologized as he shut the door. I returned to the living room and waited for him. Finally, he emerged from the room looking distraught.
"Sarah," he called out softly, "I hope you guys haven't told anyone about my presence here."
"Never, Boss," she informed him.
"That's good. I've instructed Anton to come for me tomorrow, so I'll be staying here for the night. I can't move around in the open and I'm not exactly back to full strength," Ivan told her.
"Well, you won't be back to full strength either by tomorrow," she told him as she eyed the wound on his arm.
"I can't exactly hide for long, can I? I'll have to get back out there as soon as possible."
"Of course, Boss," she gave a smile that said, "Sure, whatever you say. You're the Boss after all."
"What is happening, Ivan?" I demanded.
He sighed, "I guess I should come clean now. Follow me." We went back to the guest room and he shut the door and spied through the curtains, checking for whatever it was he was checking for.
"You were right, Audrey," Ivan started slowly, his eyes fixed unswervingly on me, "I am the leader of the Bratva.
