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I keep walking. “To our bedroom.”

“What?” she gasps behind me.

“Did you really think I’d let you stay in the guest room,moyaMalen'kaya Roza?” I place the bags in the walk-in closet. “We’ll just have to make space for your clothes. We can do it tomorrow.”

“You’re moving me into your bedroom?”

I shake my head, and wrapping my arms around her, I smile down at her. “Ourbedroom.” I press a kiss to her forehead, then add, “Besides, Luna already moved in.”

There’s a flicker of excitement on her face. “Where is she?”

“She’s at my parents' place. I’ll go get her tomorrow.”

My eyes drift over her, and even with the swelling and bruises, she’s still fucking exquisite. I also notice she’s lost weight.

“Time to feed my woman.”

A blush creeps up her neck as I take hold of her hand and pull her out of the bedroom. When we reach the kitchen, I lift her onto a stool at the island, then open the fridge. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything that’s quick.” She gives me a sheepish grin. “I’m starving.”

“I can see that,” I grumble. “Didn’t they feed you?”

Rosalie’s quiet for a moment before whispering, “I couldn’t stomach food.” She brushes a hand over the back of her head. “And I had a concussion that made it hard to keep anything down.”

My body freezes, and there’s an instant burst of rage. “A fucking concussion?”

Looking uncomfortable, she waves her hand as if it doesn’t matter, then adds, “From all the punches and slaps.”

My eyebrow lifts dangerously high as I shut the fridge. “You can eat after we’ve visited the hospital.”

“What? No. We can go tomorrow,” she tries to argue.

I shake my head, grab hold of her waist, and lift her off the chair. Taking her hand, I drag her out of the house and bundle her into the SUV.

Glancing at Joseph, I say, “We’re going to the hospital.”

“Yes, boss,” he replies, signaling to his team that we’re leaving.

Uncle Alexei had an entire hospital built after Aunt Isabella got injured. It’s state-of-the-art, and I don’t have to worry about unnecessary questions.

It’s only a ten-minute drive, and when we walk inside, the nurse quickly stands up. “Mr. Vetrov.” Her eyes go to Rosalie, then she says, “Dr. West is in surgery. Can I get Dr. Stern for you?”


She quickly calls Dr. Stern, then leads us to the private suite that’s reserved for our family.

A minute later, Dr. Stern comes rushing in. “Mr. Vetrov. What can I do for you, sir?”

I nod to Rosalie. “She has a concussion and might have a broken arm. Give her a full medical.”

“Hada concussion,” Rosalie mutters, looking very uncomfortable.

“What’s the patient’s name?” The nurse asks.

“Rosalie Manno,” I answer.

Dr. Stern looks at the nurse. “Get Mr. Vetrov whatever he wants to drink while I take care of Miss Manno.”

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