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My mind drifts…to Emiliana’s sweet face…to my hopes for the future…to the man I love. A sense of peace washes over me as I surrender to the darkness.
***
As I drift in and out of consciousness, hazy images and fragments of thought swirl through my mind. One moment I’m back in my father’s holiday estate in Italy, a little girl again, laughing as I run through the olive groves with my mother by my side. The next, I’m cradling baby Emiliana, marveling at her tiny fingers curled around mine.
Mikhail’s face appears beside me often, his hazel eyes boring into me with that intense gaze I know so well. I try to cling to him but the vision slips away, replaced by blurry shapes and muffled sounds.
Suddenly, a voice cuts through the fog, as clear as a bell.
“The surgery was a success. The bullet passed cleanly through the rectus abdominis muscle, no major damage,” thedoctor is saying. “We’ve stopped the bleeding and closed the wound. She’s going to be just fine.”
Relief floods through me at those words. The agony and fear melt away, leaving only profound gratitude that my daughter will still have her mother. That Mikhail and I have a second chance.
I let the darkness reclaim me, floating in peaceful oblivion. The gurney beneath me, the antiseptic smell—it all fades away. I surrender myself fully, knowing I’m in good hands.
***
As consciousness returns, I become aware of a soft surface beneath me and hushed voices nearby. Blinking slowly, I see an unfamiliar tiled ceiling above me.
A hospital? No…a bedroom at the compound. I’m in my new home.
Faces swim into view as I turn my head—Ivan, Mikhail, a nurse. Their mouths move but I can’t make out the words. My entire abdomen aches still, the pain muted. Drugs…they must have given me something for the pain.
Mikhail grasps my hand, his brow furrowed with concern. “Just rest, Bunny,” he murmurs. “The doctor removed the bullet and gave you some stitches. You’ll be alright.”
Relief floods through me. The bullet is gone. I’m going to live.
As my mind clears, panic grips me. “Emiliana…where is she?” I rasp, struggling to rise.
“Shhh, she’s safe. Sergei has her settled upstairs with her nanny and he’s been taking good care of her,” Ivan reassures me.
Speaking of Sergei…he lingers in the doorway, an uncharacteristic look of remorse on his face. As our eyes meet, he steps forward hesitantly.
“I’m so sorry, Caterina,” he says, taking my other hand. “I never meant for any of this to happen, the ruckus at the wedding, the little prank gone wrong. I hope you can forgive me.”
Despite the chaos he caused, I see the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s alright,” I whisper hoarsely. “Just promise me you’ll look out for her.”
He nods. “I give you my word. Rest now, sister.”
The drugs pull me under again, but this time I surrender willingly, comforted by the support of this family I’ve only just entered.
***
The steady beeping draws me back to consciousness. I blink against the bright lights above, taking in the IV tubing snaking from my arm and the crisp white sheets tucked around me.
Turning my head, I see Mikhail seated in a chair beside my bed. His jacket is rumpled, his hair disheveled, but his eyes shine with relief when they meet mine.
“Good morning, Bunny,” he says softly, enveloping my hand in both of his. “You’ve been resting well. That’s good. The doctor said it was a clean shot, no permanent damage.”
I let out a long breath, tears pricking my eyes.
“I knew you’d pull through. You were always the toughest of us all,” Mikhail continues, a hint of awe in his tone. “Vanyacame to see you earlier,” he adds after a moment. “She wanted me to tell you…she is sorry. For everything.”
He shakes his head ruefully. “My sister has always been hotheaded. But she cares for you, Caterina. We all do.”
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat. After so many years of feeling like an outsider in my own family, Vanya’s apology touches me more than I can express. Mikhail’s words even more so.
I nod slowly, still processing his words. Before I can respond, there’s a soft knock at the door.
