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Chapter Sixteen
Two weeks had passed since Sasha had been shot, and she was just being cleared to return home for the first time. The bullet had done a great deal of damage, and while it was still healing, the doctors felt that she was ready to return home.
I was glad about it. Trying to make sure that the hospital was secure was a challenge. Considering that the cops were sniffing around, I couldn’t be too obvious about why we needed security.
Being home would allow me to make sure that Sasha was protected.
“I’m so happy to be out of the hospital,” Sasha groaned, as I pushed her into the foyer of our home. We’d spent almost every moment together over the past two weeks, and I noticed that Sasha had become much chattier when she was more comfortable. I hadn’t been able to leave too often. I still didn’t know who had tried to kill her, and though I suspected they wouldn’t try again in a public hospital, I wasn’t willing to take the risk.
“The hospital wasn’t terrible,” I reminded her.
I’d done what I could to make sure that Sasha was comfortable. She’d also charmed the nurses and doctors with her infectious smile, and they were all smitten with her by the end.
“It wasn’t,” she said. “But I’ll be glad to be back with my own things, and back at school.”
I pursed my lips. We hadn’t talked much about her going back to class, and I had been putting it off. I knew how much Sasha wanted to go to school, but it would be too difficult to ensure her safety on campus.
“The doctor told you that you needed to take things easy,” he said. “You are still healing.” I had learned a lot about Sasha over the past two weeks, despite the fact that I didn’t want to get to know her. One thing I learned was that Sasha didn’t sit still well.
“There’s still a lot of healing that you need to do,” I told her. Sasha still couldn't walk. Her abdomen muscles were healing slowly, and though things were looking good, the doctors had been concerned. They made it clear that she needed to rest and stay off of her feet.
“It’ll be fine,” she said.
I said nothing. I didn’t care to argue with Sasha who was fiercely independent. It was odd in some ways considering that she tended to do what she was told.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Blanchi,” Giovanna, my housekeeper, said as she stepped in the room. Giovanna hadn’t liked Sasha, but she had been key in helping me keep Sasha comfortable. I hadn’t known where to even start when it came to Sasha’s room, and Giovanna had picked up the slack just as she always had.
“Evening Giovanna,” I said.
I dropped the bags that I had been carrying on the floor.
My hand which was on Sasha’s shoulder felt her stiffen. I wasn’t surprised. Giovanna hadn’t been particularly nice to Sasha when she arrived. Neither had I. I’d done my best to be kind to Sasha in the past few weeks. Mostly because I needed her. Sasha knew something about what had happened, of which I was more than certain.
“I moved Mrs. Blanchi’s things to your room,” she said.
“What?”
I cringed. I hadn’t told Sasha of our new living arrangements. I’d planned to ease her into the idea.
Giovanna looked at me with sympathy in her eyes, and I wondered if she had spilled the beans on purpose. “I’ll get dinner finished,” she said, leaving me and Sasha alone with one another.
“What was she talking about?” Sasha asked. She turned in her chair to look at me, and I noticed her cringe from the action. Her wounds had not yet healed, and I knew that the action was painful for her, so I moved from the back of the chair to the front.
“I suggested that Giovanna move you to my room,” I said as emotionlessly as possible. Things hadn’t been good between me and Sasha prior to her being shot. Partially because of my desire to punish her. I couldn’t act against the Bratva, but I could act against her.
“Why?” Sasha asked. “I’m perfectly fine in my own room.”
“You can’t walk,” I reminded her.
“Which is why I have a wheelchair.”
I shook my head. “You're staying in my room and that’s final.” I couldn’t have Sasha injuring herself any further.
“I don’t want to stay in your room,” she told me. “I need my own space. I have homework to catch up on and lectures to listen to. I’m sure that you have work to catch up on as well.”
“I didn’t say that we would be together constantly,” I told her. Because she was right, I did have work to get done. Marco had been spending the past two weeks keeping the business running, but I needed to show my face. Lorenzo had been punished, but I had no information on the person or people who had shot Sasha in the first place.
“Oh,” Sasha said. I thought that I noticed a bit of disappointment in her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.
