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“Shh.” I shake my head, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand. “Don’t think like that. You can tell me what happened later. But for now, just focus on talking to the doctor when he gets here. It’s going to be alright.”
“You can’t know that for sure.” Fresh tears well up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. “I can’t go back there. What he did—but if I don’t?—”
“Mila.” I squeeze her hand, and she looks at me, her eyes glassy and slightly unfocused. “I won’t allow anything to happen to you. You don’t have to go back there. You don’t have to sell for me any longer, if you don’t want to. You’ll be taken care of, I promise. We can talk about what that means later, but I don’t want you to worry about those things right now. I’ll protect you. You and Niki,” I add gently, and I see her face soften, her chin quivering as more tears spill over.
“Shit,” she breathes. “I don’t have my phone. Darcy?—”
“You wouldn’t have been home for a few hours anyway. If it takes too long, I’ll call her.”
Mila gives me a narrow look. “How do you know Darcy’s number?”
“I make a point of knowing everything about the people around those who work for me. And those I care about.” I feel a pang in my chest, wondering if she’ll be frightened by that. If she’ll tell me to leave, angry that I know too much about her. But instead, she lays her head back, closing her eyes, her hand still in mine.
“That should scare me,” she whispers, as if hearing an echo of my thoughts. “But weirdly, it makes me feel safe, coming from you. Like you’ll always know how to get to me, if I need you.”
“That was the idea.” I stroke the back of her hand with my thumb, watching as her eyes stay closed, her body relaxing slightly. She must still be in awful pain, but exhaustion and shock can pull anyone under, if it’s bad enough.
I sit and watch her, unsure of what I’m feeling, and unsettled by it. Every other interaction with Mila that has made me feel this way, I’ve excused by pinning it on my desire for her; that lust has made me behave and feel strangely. But this has nothing to do with lust. She’s as beautiful as ever, but I’m not thinking about fucking her right now. All I can think about is how best to care for her, about what she might need from me. I’ve never felt that for anyone. I’ve never wanted to.
But right now, all I want to do is stay by Mila’s side until I know she’s safe. To do and be whatever she needs.
It’s terrifying—and somehow elating, all at once. I never knew I could feel this. In so many ways, she’s the wrong woman for me to feel this for. But I do, and I can’t change it now.
I wouldn’t, even if I could.
I sit with her until the doctor comes, wait while they take her for x-rays, wait again while Mila sits tensely in the bed, awaiting the results. When the doctor comes back, even I can’t read his face.
“It’s a bad break,” he says calmly. “But if you follow instructions, and rest, and let it heal, with the proper physical therapy, you’ll dance again.”
Mila licks her lips, her voice trembling. “Just dance?” she whispers. “Or dance as well as I did before?”
“That depends on you.” The doctor looks at her, his face serious. “I’ve seen girls come back from injuries like this. Even ones with as prestigious of roles as you have. But you must follow my instructions, come to your appointments, go to your therapy, and take things slowly. If you rush your recovery, or overdo it, you won’t be as you were before. Too much, and you won’t dance again.”
Mila’s face goes ashen as he speaks. When he leaves to go and get the materials for her cast, giving her a painkiller first so that he can set the break, Mila looks at me, fresh tears on the verge of spilling over.
“I can’t rest,” she whispers. “I’ll get half my salary from the ballet while I’m on leave, but that won’t even begin to cover?—”
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure you and Niki are cared for. If you need someone to come and clean, cook, and help with him, I’ll hire someone. I’ll come over myself when I can. If Darcy needs to be paid to spend more time there, I’ll do that. Whatever is necessary, Mila. You heard the doctor. You have to take it slowly.” I move closer, reaching up to touch her face gently. “I know what dancing means to you, dolce. You can’t lose that.”
She lets out a small, stifled sob. “Why?” she whispers. “Why would you do all of that?”
Because I love you. The thought comes unbidden, so quickly that it startles me. “Because I can,” I say instead, because I’m not ready to tell her how I feel. Not here, not like this. I can barely begin to admit it to myself.
“It’s too much,” she whispers. “Those pills are probably gone now. I failed everything you wanted me to do, I’ve screwed up, and?—”
“No,” I say it a little too harshly, and take a breath when she flinches. “This is Egor’s fault, not yours. And he will pay for it, in time. But first, I’m going to make sure you’re cared for.”
Mila swallows hard, letting out a shaky breath. “A mafia man, postponing vengeance. That’s odd.” She manages a watery smile, and I bite back what I’m not ready to say to her yet. It feels as if it’s hovering on the tip of my tongue, waiting for a moment to break free.
When the doctor returns to set her ankle and put it in a cast, I step away for a moment. I send a message to Federic, telling him to get me Egor’s home address. I’m willing to postpone vengeance long enough to make sure Mila is settled and safe, but not long enough for Egor to get away. He’ll know I’m coming for him, and I don’t plan to give him time to run.
As soon as the doctor is finished, I call my driver to come around. Mila is pale and quiet as she’s taken out to the SUV, the painkiller making her groggy. She leans against me as I slide in next to her, and I feel that pang in my chest again, that unrelenting need to keep her safe. It still feels strange, but not unwelcome.
When we get to her apartment building, I carry her up. I feel her curl into my chest, relaxing by inches as I walk up the stairs, and by the time I get to her door, I realize she’s asleep. I take out the keys that she handed me when we got into the car, opening the door slowly, only to see Darcy sit up like a flash from the couch when I step in.
“What—” She starts to get up, and I shake my head, nodding at Mila’s sleeping body in my arms, and then looking pointedly at the cast. I can see the suspicion on her face, but she frowns, sitting back down. “Her room is down the hall—” she starts to whisper, and I nod.
“I know where it is,” I murmur, and I see her eyes widen with surprise. Even in the current circumstances, I find it gratifying to know that Mila must not go out on dates often, or have men come over. It sounds as if it’s unusual for someone to know where her room is.
