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Ilarion isn’t just some heartless, hardened mob boss. There’s a soul somewhere underneath all that iron. There are wounds buried deep down that he’s trying to hide from me. He absolutely doesn’t want me—or anyone—to see it…but I do.
Which makes me actually care what he thinks about me.
That’s the last thing I can afford to do.
25
TAYLOR
Two giant men stand just outside my mother’s hospital room like bouncers at a club. Some of the hospital staff eye the men warily as they inch by. Others pretend they can’t see them at all.
“They work for me,” Ilarion explains when he sees me looking. “I wasn’t about to leave your mother alone in a hospital room without any security.”
I don’t say anything, but I appreciate the gesture. I’d assumed he’d just dumped her by the entrance of the hospital and driven off. I would’ve been pleasantly surprised if he’d even had the car come to a complete stop before kicking her to the curb. This is…above and beyond my admittedly-low expectations.
We’re walking up when the door opens and a nurse walks out. Like every good nurse I’ve ever met, she’s a weary older woman with a weathered face that keeps her emotions tucked out of sight.
“Are you Celine Theron?” she asks.
My breath catches and, for some reason, I turn to Ilarion. “This is Taylor,” he fills in, because apparently, I’ve turned into a moron who can’t even speak for herself.
“Ah! Taylor,” the nurse says with a soft smile of recognition. “Your mother’s been asking for you. For both her girls.”
Her girls.That’s how she used to refer to Celine and me all the time. We were Fiona’s Girls. Celine used to joke about having a ready-made band name if we ever became famous.
“She’s awake?”
The nurse nods, but the smile on her face wavers in a way I don’t like. The forced-calm veneer of someone managing a crisis. “She’s awake. But she’s…weak.”
“She has cancer.”
“Yes, we were given a full report of her condition when she was admitted,” the nurse tells me. “Mr. Zakharov passed along her medical details.”
I glance at Ilarion in surprise. “Oh. Uh, okay. Well…”
“Why don’t you sit down, Ms. Theron? I’ll have her doctor come and—”
“I don’t need to sit down,” I say politely but firmly. “I want you to tell me what’s happening.”
She glances over my shoulder at Ilarion. I slide over to intercept her gaze. “With all due respect…” I read her nametag and finish, “Madison. With all due respect, Madison, he may have been the one to admit her, but I’m her daughter. If there’s anyone here you should be sharing information with, it’s me.”
Madison pauses, then gives me a sympathetic nod. “Your mother’s condition isn’t likely to improve, Ms. Theron. We’ve got her hooked up to some machinery right now, but it’s the only reason she’s still breathing.”
My body chills rapidly. “B-but… She’s been asking for us. For me. For me and Celine. Isn’t that what you said?”
“She can still talk, but it tires her out.”
I swallow and nod. “Okay. Thank you.”
She moves aside to let me pass. But I don’t move. I can’t. I’m frozen in place, terrified of what’s awaiting me in that room. I can’t see either one of them, but I sense the glance that Ilarion and the nurse exchange over my head.
Then I feel his breath tickle my ear. “Taylor,” he says, gentler than I ever would have thought he’d be capable of, “do you need me to come in with you?”
No.That’s my gut instinct. And it’s the right one, I think.
But for some reason, simple as it is, I can’t make my mouth form the word. Nor can I bring myself to ask him for help. Not this kind of help, anyway. The only person who should be leaning on him that way is Celine.
His fiancée.
