Donovan- Did you get my gift? It’s unfortunate the Cristof family won’t be planning a funeral. I thought I was pretty thorough. My vision tunneled. A cold sweat broke out across my spine. My fingers trembled around the phone. Heknewwe saved Ivan. Of course, he knew, but what did this change? Would he go after Ivan again? Would he go after Jane? Was thisjustan example to be made? The longer I sat there and stared at my phone, the dizzier I grew. What did all of this mean?
My thoughts danced back to when Ivan disappeared. I’d contemplated killing for him. Could I still do that now that Ivan was alive, though not well? Could I go to my wedding night and slit Donovan’s throat?
With steely resolve, I decided that, yes, I could. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life under the thumb of a monster. I couldn’t constantly look over my shoulder and wonder who was next. I couldn’t live my life in fear of how Ineeded to act or what I needed to say because Donovan would make an example out of someone I loved.
So the planning began. We were a month out from the wedding. I would be meeting his family this weekend, and I would put on the charm. I would make him believe I was a changed woman because of this incident. I would show him that I could behave… for now.
The next morning, I called Marta as I stared down at the Jackie Kennedy dress she’d picked out for me. I wasn’t so sure it was appropriate for our engagement party, and I needed to have some kind of backbone when it came to this woman. I had a feeling that was how I earned her respect, not that I cared all that much, but I needed glowing stars from her for Donovan to believe my ruse.
“Yes?” Marta answered on the first ring like she always did. She was always prompt and on time. I was sure she’d served in the military at one point in her life. There was no way around it.
“Hi Marta, I’m looking down at the dress we picked out for the engagement party today, and I’m not so sure it will work.”
You could have heard a pin drop on the other end of the phone. “Excuse me?”
“I found this blazer dress that I feel would be much more appropriate.” It even had a cape. It was beautiful and never anything I would actually want to wear, but they constantly spoke about power and wanting to show just howpowerful Donovan was… this was the way to do it. “I just don’t think Donovan’s family will see the Jackie Kennedy dress as an actual power move, and you’ve been speaking a lot about how Donovan would like to be presented. If we are going to be apowercouple, then we need to dress like it. Marta, I don’t want to look weak or meek. I think we should make a statement.”
I could practically hear her smiling on the other side. “This is a big change in you, Ms. Fairchild. I am highly impressed. Maybe Mr. Madden should have made an example out of your loved ones a long time ago. I approve it.”
The line clicked out, and I stared down at my phone in dread. I couldn’t believe I’d done it. I hated every second of it, but I’d made a move that actually worked.
I looked down at the dress.
Ivory. Structured. Shoulder pads sharp enough to wound someone. A built-in cape that draped like something straight out of Emeline Cristof’s closet. The fabric was heavy, expensive, authoritative— I was sure it was everything Donovan’s people worshiped. It was one of the pieces his personal shopper had delivered after the fire, when we relocated to the Cristof penthouse. I hadn’t been allowed to pick out a single item. Every dress, every shoe, and every perfume bottle was chosen for me. The ivory blazer dress was a cage disguised as couture. I ran my fingers over the lapel, bile thick in my throat. I didn’t want to look powerful. I wanted comfort and to go back to being blissfully innocent, but I couldn’t. That girl was gone. She’d died a long time ago.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Ivan
The bright fluorescentlights above my head were blinding. I hated hospitals. All the beeping and the happy as fuck nurses that never left you alone. I hated it all. But what I hated the most was that I hadn’t seen Poppy, not once, since I opened my eyes.
The hospital had me on so many drugs, I didn’t actually know how badly I was hurt. No one would tell me, besides the fact that Donovan Madden possibly left me for dead. It wasn’t until I’d woken up that I was able to confirm that for all of them. Dimitri wanted to go after him immediately. Alexei wanted a slow, drawn-out approach. Me? I just wanted to know that Poppy was okay.
My mother insisted she was doing great, preparing for her wedding. Marta, her assistant, came by the penthouse regularly and made sure Poppy was eating and exercising. She wanted to make sure Poppy was in tip-top shape for the wedding. I hated it, but there was nothing I could do from ahospital bed with more caretakers than I knew what to do with.
“If you let me go after Donovan, she doesn’t have to marry him,” Dimitri reminded me for the hundredth time from the leather seat in the corner of the room. “I’ll snag him, make him beg for mercy, drag it out horribly, and then dump him.” He shrugged.
“Do you want a war on your hands? They will know it was retaliation. Just wait for me to get better. I’ll be able to take care of all of it once I’m out of here.”
Dimitri’s eyes cut down to my bandaged hands. He wasn’t going to say it, but I knew. Donovan had smashed my fingers. There was a chance I could never pull a trigger again. And then what? How could I possibly take him out when I needed to be steady-handed?
Dimitri leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his expression dropping into something rarely seen on his face—fear. “Ivan… we don’t even know if you’ll fully heal. You can’t hunt someone you can’t even shoot.”
I stared at the ceiling, my throat tight. “I don’t need a gun to kill Donovan Madden.”
He shook his head. “Donovan is a beast in the ring. You would do better killing him from a distance, even without a steady hand. We can’t risk this again. Next time you won’t be so lucky. Next time, there won't be a next time, and I just need you to be careful.”
“We all need to be careful then,” I barked out.
He nodded. “Listen, everything will be okay. I think the grannies are coming to visit soon. Just hang tight.” Hesqueezed the end of my calf before he left, and I threw myself back onto the pillows piled up high behind me. I hated this.
Dimitri had been right. It wasn’t even a few hours later when the grannies showed up with a folder under Nana’s arm and a bag of food in Grandmother’s perfectly manicured hands.
“Hospital food is such a drag,” Grandmother began.
“We figured you needed a pick-me-up,” Nana finished for her as they placed their things on the small round table in the middle of the room.
The food smelled heavily, but I knew what was in the folder—to some degree— which made it impossible to take my eyes off of it.
