AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I frown, caught off guard by the venom in his tone. “Youtold me he was dead.”
“And as concerned as you are for your husband’s welfare, you should be more concerned for yours.”
Concerned? I open my mouth to reply, but he moves, wrenching the blankets back.
“Look,” he commands.
Startled, I stare down at my pale limbs stretched out beneath a white nightgown. My legs aren’t the only parts of me bandaged: my nightgown has been folded down to my waist, but my chest isn’t bare. Tan bandages constrict it—part of the unbearable pressure I feel.
“You were intubated for three days,” Mischa announces. “Your lung was punctured. It’s barely healed. So I suggest you save the sobbing for your husband’s soul for another week at least—”
“What happened to Nikolaus?”
“What he deserved,” he says. “And you have another surgical scar to join the one from your C-section, Little Rose.”
I cringe at the reference, but the painful memories are easier to ignore in favor of deciphering him. His voice is colder than it was only a few minutes ago. Irritated.
Scowling, he tugs my blankets back into place, covering me again. “If you won’t eat, I can assure you that you’ll be here for another fucking month. Though, hell, that might make it easier for your precious Robert to come for you?”
I’m too tired to feel the full brunt of the terror that threat should inspire. I just let my eyes drift shut and focus on breathing. In. Out. Slower. When I feel confident enough to speak, I don’t even waste any real effort on sounding insulted. “Where is Vanya?”
It’s like my words are his cue. Another figure approaches from the hall, his steps uneven.
“You’re awake,” he calls as I open my eyes again. His wary smile is a godsend. Even Mischa’s brooding presence can’t erase my relief.
“Thank you,” I tell him as he draws up to the other side of my bed. “For caring for me.”
Even now, the gentleness with which he must have done so takes my breath away. A month in bed could have gone so much worse. That I know from experience.
Vanya blinks. “I…” His gaze cuts to Mischa, who abruptly storms from the room. “I’m glad you’re all right,” Vanya says, turning his attention back to me. “You had us worried.”
Us? I don’t question the word choice out loud. Instead, I watch him circle around to the tray of soup. He carefully ladles a bit of broth to my lips and I swallow. When I’ve consumed half the bowl, I gather up the nerve to finally ask, “Did Mischa kill him?”
Nikolaus.
“Yes,” Vanya says as he maneuvers another spoonful to my mouth. His gaze turns inward, alarmingly stern. “The bastard had it coming. I still don’t know how he infiltrated the manor. He wasn’t that smart—”
“Someone else was there,” I rasp. “Another man. He talked about…” I rack my brain for the specifics. “He talked like he knew some details firsthand.”
“So a spy,” Vanya deduces, his gaze cold. “I’ll alert Mischa. But you shouldn’t have to worry about this.” A sigh rips from his mouth as he sets the bowl aside. “You get your rest. I’ll come check on you in the morning.”
He gathers up the empty bowl and leaves, avoiding any further questions. Alone, I can only anticipate Mischa’s next actions.
I’ve angered him, and a sick part of me wonders if I should be relieved.
At least I’ll no longer be his focus.
