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“I don’t talk to thepolice,” she corrects. “I still need to know what happened to inform my decisions.”
“The Salkovs,” I mumble.
“They shot you?”
“I was… trying to get away.”
Dr. Chekov nods gravely. “You’re not the first person Olga’s helped. All this senseless violence… I’m sorry you got caught up in it.”
I wince when she begins to wipe the dried blood off my shoulder and applies a disinfectant. The sting is unbearable, like a million little needles digging under my skin.
“It looks like you were shot twice,” the doctor informs me. “One of them is just a flesh wound, but I think the second bullet might be lodged in your shoulder. I need to get it out. I don’t have strong enough anesthetics on hand, so we’ll have to do this with you awake.”
I groan. Could this day get any worse? “Do whatever you have to, just… give me a second.”
“Take all the time you need.”
I close my eyes and think of Pyotr. I have to get back to him, no matter what obstacles might stand in my way.
Keep your eyes on me.
Just breathe.
“O-okay,” I mumble. “Let’s get this over with.”
“I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”
Pain washes over me in waves. Sometimes it’s too much to bear, and other times it’s nothing more than a dull ache. Natalya has incredibly deft hands, skillfully removing the bullet lodged in my shoulder. I block out the sounds, the sensations, holding back my tears. I can do this. Not just for Pytor, but for me, too.
It’s almost fitting, in a way, that Violetta would have me shot in the back. All the years I endured beneath her reign of terror are finally at an end. There’s no need to talk of loyalties when she never did anything to earn my loyalty to begin with. I know where I stand and who I stand with—and Violetta certainly isn’t it. Whatever doubts shackled me to her are no more. We may share the same blood, but she’s in no way family. Now that I’ve finally managed to escape—and hopefully for the last time—I’m done with her.
The Salkov Bratva can burn to the ground for all I care. I relinquish my name and my association with them. I’m leaving the Bratva and this mad, crazy underground world behind. I’d gladly trade it all for the safety of Pyotr’s arms a thousand times over without a single regret.
Dr. Chekov finishes stitching me up, working quickly to apply fresh bandages to my shoulder. “There,” she says, sounding rather triumphant. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“You weren’t the one under the knife.”
She laughs. “No, I suppose not. Does anything else hurt?”
“My stomach feels terrible,” I confess. “And I’m really nauseous. I’ve been feeling like this for weeks, though.”
“May I ask when you last had your period?”
I arch a brow. “Um…” I struggle to do the mental math. “Gosh, I… Over a month ago, I think?”
“Have you been sexually active?”
I’m surprised I have enough blood left to blush, but the telltale heat in my cheeks tells me I’m as red as a tomato. “Yes, actually. My husband… You don’t think I’m pregnant, do you?”
“There’s only one way to find out. Wait right here, I’ll grab you a pregnancy test.”
I nod numbly. “Thank you, Doctor.”
She smiles. “Please, just call me Nat.”
The doctor leaves and returns a few minutes later, dropping off a pregnancy test and directing me to the bathroom. I walk to the bathroom in a strange, dream-like trance. Is this really happening? How many curveballs does the universe plan on throwing my way today? I suppose peeing on a stick is the easiest thing I’ve had to do today.
While I wait for the minutes to pass, my mind swirls. I need to figure out how to contact Pyotr. With any luck, he’s seen Violetta’s battle plan and forwarded the information to his brothers. I just want this madness to end. I never understood Violetta’s need to consume everything in her path, claiming all the wealth and power as her own. Can she not see the harm she’s doing? How many people are getting hurt because of her greed? If she does, it means she must not care—a truly chilling thought.
