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I nod, numb to the rest of the world, as he helps me to my feet and tucks me back into bed, before lying back down next to me. Ivan wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to his chest.
I sigh as the scent of his cologne envelops me. With his arms around me, the fear still coursing through my body begins to fade. We lie there in silence for a while, his warm hands gently stroking my back. I take a deep breath. Eventually, we'll have to talk about it.
Ivan knows this too. He sighs, his touch is so comforting even if it won’t be an easy conversation. “What happened last night, Sophia?”
“I was just getting water. I couldn’t sleep. It was too quiet. I went downstairs to get a drink and my books. He broke in. Started looking around the house before he found me under the dining table.”
I pick at a loose thread on the hem of the shirt, my chest constricting just thinking about what happened. As much as I don’t want to talk about it, Ivan needs to know.
“That doesn’t explain why I found you in a room with him tied up and unconscious on the floor,” he says, confusion and pride coloring his voice.
“Dad might not have been the best father while I was growing up, but as soon as he got custody of me, he started teaching me self-defence.”
“I’m proud of you, Sophia. You did what you had to do to survive. It couldn’t have been easy for you.” He combs his fingers through my hair. “I tried to get here as quickly as possible, I would not have forgiven myself if something had happened to you. I swore at our wedding that I would always protect you, and I will.”
A lump rises in my throat. “I know. I want people to look at me and know that I deserve to stand by your side, as the Pakhan’s wife.”
He wraps his arms tighter around my waist and pulls me completely into his lap and his eyes darken. “Whoever did this to you will die.”
“Who do you think it was?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly. Though terror still races through my veins, Ivan protects me better than my father ever has.
“I have many enemies, but right now, my best guess is the Italians.”
“The Italian mafia?”
“Yes, we have a score to settle with them,” Ivan says, “but I’ll make sure that nothing like this will ever happen again.”
But what if something like this happens again? What if I have to kill someone? How will I be able to cope with taking a life?? I’m going to college to become a nurse so I can save lives.
Is the Bratva turning me into a killer?
There is no turning back now. Not that I think I could. In the time we’ve been married, Ivan has slowly worked his way into my heart. I don't know exactly how I feel about him yet,but I do know that I don’t want to spend another day of my life without him.
“Don’t worry, doll,” Ivan says in a gentle voice and kisses my temple. “You’ll be fine. We’ll get through this, and I'll make sure the man can never hurt you again.”
“I’m still scared.” My voice wavers and my bottom lips quiver. “How are we supposed to go forward from here? What if another assassin comes after you?”
“We’ll put more security teams in place and we’re going to work on your self-defence skills, seems you are pretty good already.” Ivan smiles and looks down at me with softness in his eyes which makes me melt. “It is going to be okay.”
As I hold his gaze, I begin to believe him. My husband is ruthless, and he will stop at nothing to protect those closest to him, including me. As Ivan kisses my forehead, his phone starts buzzing. He groans, leans forward, reaches for the phone, and reads the message he's just received. He mumbles curses in Russian before throwing the phone aside. Deep wrinkles appear at the corners of his mouth and between his eyebrows as he frowns.
“What’s going on?” I ask, running my fingers through his soft hair. I try to calm him down while he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.
“My men brought the man back to New York last night. He was taken to a basement in one of the warehouses while Roman and Nik investigated. He was to be held there until I returned, and we had the information to clear things up.”
I brush back stray hairs and notice that the gray around his temples is becoming more and more visible. At moments likethis, when I can look at him closely and see the fine wrinkles on his face, the age difference becomes more prominent. Although this is the last thing, I'm worried about in our relationship.
“Supposed to be held?” Tears start to blur my vision. “Is he dead?”
Holy shit, I have killed him.My hand flies to my mouth as I try to stifle the strangled scream that escapes me. If they made it to New York and he’s dead now, he must have slowly bled to death from internal injuries. Ivan’s men wouldn’t have known they were transporting a dying man.
It’s all my fault. I killed a man.
Ivan nods. “Yes, he is dead. He died of cyanide poisoning. We’re not sure where he got the pill from. It must have been hidden in his clothes or it could have been in a false tooth. Or someone in the Bratva is a rat.”
“A rat?” I wipe my tears, relief flooding through me. I might have shot him, but it wasn’t the bullet that killed him.
“Yes. A snitch. I suspect it was someone within the Bratva, only our guys knew about the warehouse. Someone slipped the assassin a pill before anyone noticed or could do anything about it.”
