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“No fucking kidding,” Anton says laughingly. “Congratulations, man.”
“Damn, Yan.” Ilya bumps shoulders with me and slaps my back. “Congrats, bro. You’re fucking getting married. I can’t believe it.”
Neither can I. Who would’ve thought? Until a few weeks ago, I’d never have believed a woman half my size would bring me to my knees.
“Aren’t you worried Peter will find out about this?” Anton asks. “It’s one thing to keep her, another to marry her.”
I give him a hard look. “Sokolov doesn’t want me for an enemy, and if he does, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
“When’s the big event?” Ilya asks with a ten-megawatt smile, clearly eager to return to a less stressful topic.
“Today.”
Anton looks at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. “What?”
The dark cloud always hovering at the back of my mind threatens to cast a shadow over our happiness, but I shove it away. I’m not going to wallow in sorrow or negativity and waste the precious time I have with Mina.
“There’s something you should know,” I start carefully.
From my drawn expression, they must be sensing what’s to follow isn’t good. Their faces turn serious, all signs of joviality wiped away.
“Mina…” No matter that I’ve made peace with the diagnosis, it doesn’t make it easier to say. “She’s got cancer. Leukemia.”
“Shit.” Anton’s olive-toned face goes pale. “Man, I’m sorry.”
“Fuck.” Ilya drags a hand over his shaven head, looking shell-shocked.
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for her,” I say in a stern voice. “The last thing she needs is pity.”
Anton takes a deep breath. “Yeah, sure.”
“She’s going to fight.” I say it more for my own benefit than theirs.
Ilya grips my shoulder. “I’m here for you, for both of you.”
I nod. “Good to know. Get to work. I want to go check on Mina, see if she’s awake.”
“Great idea.” Ilya all but pushes me to the door. “Your place is with her. Go. We’ve got this covered.”
Stopping in the doorway, I look back at my team, the men who’ve always had my back. “Thanks.”
They know I’m not only saying thank-you for dealing with shit so I can be with my woman. I’m grateful that they’re here for me, for us. I need them as much for this as for a job, if not more.
Anton nods.
Ilya says, “Don’t mention it.”
When I get back to the room, Hanna is visiting with Mina, her wrinkled cheeks streaked with tears.
“She just told me,” Hanna says, not bothering to wipe away the drops running nonstop down her jaw and chin. Considerately, even at a time like this, she addresses me in Russian.
Mina pats her grandmother’s shaking hand. “I didn’t want to worry you. I knew you’d try to persuade me to go for the treatment.”
“Thanks for convincing her,” Hanna says to me.
I hand her a tissue from the nightstand. “Mina is a fighter. We’ll get through this.”
“Yes,” Hanna agrees readily. “You have to believe it, Mina darling.”
She’s struggling to lift her hand, so I take the tissue from her and carefully wipe her eyes. “In fact, Mina and I have some happy news to share, too.”
She looks between us. “You’re getting married?”
“Today.” I give her an apologetic smile. “I know it seems sudden—”
“No, no,” Hanna says. “You’re doing the right thing. You shouldn’t waste a minute. Not a second.”
“I want you to be a part of the day,” Mina says.
And doing it here allows that. I catch Mina’s gaze to measure how much she’s told Hanna. A small shake of her head tells me Hanna doesn’t know about the rest, about Mina’s job or that a threat bigger than a disease hangs over her head.
“You must have lots to discuss,” Hanna says. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“I’ll take you back to your room,” I offer.
After making Hanna comfortable in the sun on her balcony, I come back downstairs to tell Mina about our plan.
“You know Nagy better than anyone,” I say when I’ve relayed what Anton, Ilya, and I discussed. “Do you think he’ll fall for it?”
She reflects for a moment. “I’m a loose end. If he believes I ratted on him in exchange for immunity, he’ll want revenge. He’ll come for me, no matter where I am or how high the stakes are. But he’s not a fool. He’ll watch the safe house, at least via surveillance if not personally, to make sure I’m really there.”
“I thought about that. We’ll have to make it appear like you’re not leaving the house. We must make him believe you’re scared with us out of the picture and you all alone. We could stage a conversation with our connection on a phone Nagy can tap.”
“If I’m not to leave the house and he can’t visually confirm my presence for himself, we’ll have to plant convincing evidence that I’m there.”
“We’ll send a nurse once a day. He’ll believe she’s treating your wound. Pizza and grocery deliveries. Medical supplies. Anton and Ilya will be waiting there, so there will be signs of life.”
