“I see,” Ganesh replied, and I heard his cane strike the ground. “Everything will work out,Chhori. I don’t doubt it. And Anjali is right, we are a family. But we will respect your wishes.”
“Thank you, Ganesh,” I said, my eyes stopping on Sasha’s silhouette sitting on a bench in the distance. His shoulders were hunched, his gaze fixed on the ground, as if he were carrying the weight of the entire world on his back. My jaw tightened as the flames of my anger slowly reignited, “Ganesh,” I said darkly, clenching my fist, “I want to know who attacked us in front of the restaurant. If it’s connected to Alia Rasili, then it’s connected to me,” I declared, starting to walk toward Sasha. “And I want to know exactly where she is. I’m going to kill that bitch.” Ganesh informed me that he would begin the search immediately before handing the phone back to my Shadow.
“Call Esme. Maybe one of the girls has heard something about that slut,” I asked, now only a few meters from the Russian. “I’ll take care of it, and I’ll be there tomorrow,” he added before hanging up, not even giving me time to reply. He was giving me one night, that alone was a major effort considering his personality. I frowned as Sasha unscrewed the cap of a bottle, took a few sips, then closed it only to reopen and shut it again and again, growling under his breath. I winced as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and sat down beside Sasha. I snatched the bottle from his hands as he avoided looking at me. I closed it tightly and set it down on the floor. I saw his eyes follow it, his fists clenched, holding himself back from grabbing it again, “it’s sealed tight, I promise,” I whispered. He didn’t react, his empty gaze fixed on the ground, lost. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath before staring straight ahead. “Your brother is stressed. Don’t pay attention to what he says,” I said, folding my hands on my thighs. “Nyet. He’s right,” (no) Sasha murmured, in a way that was so… not him. “Nyet!” I snapped back, turning toward him, at my limit. “Your idiot brother is blinded by fear and talking bullshit,” I growled, fixing his profile, “you’re not Terminator or the Avengers, for fuck’s sake” my anger kept rising but I froze when he lifted his reddened eyes to me. “Youdon’t understand,” he breathed, his gaze locked with mine, “I shouldn’t have, Sienna. I shouldn’t have taken that weapon.” And he was right, I didn’t understand, what weapon?
“Sasha…” I started, but he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands covering his face. “My mother,” he whispered, and I froze. His mother? Elena Ivanov? She had died when Sasha was just a child, during a charity event. I had heard she had succumbed after seven stab wounds to the back, but not before putting a bullet through her attacker’s skull. “My mother died because of me, Sienna,” he said, straightening and lifting his face toward the sky, his eyes shining and my heart shattered when I saw the frightened, guilt-ridden little boy behind the man, the child crushed under a weight far too heavy and painful.
“Sasha,” I whispered, sliding my hand against his cheek, forcing him to look at me as I tried to understand. “Because of me,” he repeated, his jaw tightening. “If I had listened to her, if I had stayed hidden, she might have survived. But I decided to grab that fucking weapon to prove I was strong, that I was big, that I could help her.”
He let out a bitter laugh, hatred dripping from his voice, and I shook my head.God, his mother had died in front of him, stabbed seven times in the back. “I forgot to take the safety off, Sienna. I forgot to take off the fucking safety, the basics!” he spat, his gaze blazing with pure rage, at himself, at that little boy, at little Sasha whose mother had perished before his eyes when he was only eight years old. “It should have been me. I should have died. I was the one she was going to stab, but my mother… she stepped between us.” His voice thundered as the leaves above our heads danced in the wind.
“You were just a child, Sasha,” I murmured, cupping his hard jaw with my thumbs. “A little boy who wanted to help his mother.” But he shook his head, eyes closing, and my lipspressed together as I stayed there with him, refusing to let him carry that weight alone.
“I’m the same idiot I was twenty years ago, still incapable of protecting the people I love,” he mocked himself, shaking his head and my teeth clenched. Suddenly, I climbed onto the bench, dropping to my knees. One of my hands wrapped around his jaw while the other tangled in his hair, forcing him to lift his face. I leaned over him, his eyes wide as they met mine.
“Listen to me carefully, Sasha Ivanov, because I won’t repeat this a second time and next time, I’ll choose far less civilized ways to make my words sink into your fucking skull,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “If you dare insult that eight-year-old boy again, if you dare belittle yourself the way you just did, if you dare torture yourself like this one more time, I swear on everything I hold dear that I will not forgive you” I was breathless, tears rising once again. “I won’t let you hurt yourself,” I choked, my vision blurring. “I won’t let you do this,” I repeated as one of my tears landed on his cheekbone, my body trembling. That kind of guilt could kill, I knew it all too well. How many times had I thought about death? How many times had I ended with a gun pressed to my temple? How many times had I stared at razors in the institute’s bathrooms and at the club? Hundreds. Thousands.
I refused to let him sink the way I had. I refused to let him fail the way I had. I had nothing left to lose, no future, but he did. With his brothers, his nephews, his future wife and children. I would not let him destroy himself.
Suddenly, one of his hands grabbed the back of my neck, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me against him. His lips crashed into mine, swallowing my startled gasp as his tongue met mine. My hands slid to his neck, my nails digging into his skin, making him groan as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to the side. I closed my eyes, tears sliding down my cheeks,my heart aching for him. He gently bit my lower lip, drawing another moan from me before pulling back. I kept my eyes closed, trying to catch the breath he had stolen from me, trying to steady myself. His thumb brushed over the lip he had bitten, his mouth placing soft kisses against my cheeks, against my tears, until I slowly calmed.
“So… do the less civilized methods you’re thinking of involve a bed?” he suddenly asked and I looked at him, confused. “Wh… what?” I sniffed, lost as a faint smile curved his lips, his gaze softer and calmer than before. “If that’s a yes, then I completely misunderstood your speech,” he murmured, brushing his lips against mine. I narrowed my eyes, placing my fingers against his swollen lips, “I’m serious, Sasha. Promise me you’ll never wallow like that again,” I said gruffly. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Any mother in the world would have done the same to protect her child. Hell, wasn’t that exactly what I did with Mikhail?” I added, showing him the scar on my palm. “It’s instinct. And nothing is stronger than maternal instinct” I smiled softly as he took my wrist and pressed a kiss to my palm, his blue eyes never leaving mine, making me shiver.
“I promise, if you promise me you’ll never put yourself in danger like that again,” he replied and I rolled my eyes. “You really need to stop letting your lawyer side take over. Not everything has to be a negotiation, idiot,” I sighed, feeling him smile against my skin.
“Old habits die hard,” he replied simply, stepping back as I shook my head. “Like I told you, it’s maternal instinct. You can’t control it,” I said as he straightened. “No. I’m not talking about children,” he said, taking my other hand and placing both of them against his chest. “The next time you’re in danger, the next time you see it coming, run. I don’t want you ending up in a hospital bed, Sienna. I… I wouldn’t survive that” his gaze locked onto mine, sincerity shining so brightly it stole my breath. Hetruly cared. It was real, so I sighed. “I promise I’ll do my best,” I said, and he nodded, satisfied. “And I promise I’ll do my best too,” he replied. I smiled softly, my mind and body calmer than when I had left the hospital. “Sienna,” he murmured, his fingers intertwining with mine and I looked at him, waiting. “I…” he started, then stopped, studying me for a long moment before standing and gently pulling me up with him. “Let’s go see Elif,” he finally said, heading toward the entrance.
Sasha
Elif’s body lay motionless on the hospital bed, intubated to support her breathing so her weakened body could rest. Wires disappeared beneath her gown, monitoring countless vital signs. I pressed my hand against the glass that separated us, separating me from, her laughter, her reassuring presence. “Roman, please, for me,” Sienna’s voice echoed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at her, seated beside my brother, trying to coax him into drinking a cup of hot tea. He finally accepted it, meeting Sienna’s tired, reddened gaze. The way she had scolded me earlier came rushing back, and I tightened my lips. Her tear-filled eyes hovering above mine lingered in my mind. She had cried, for me, because I was drowning in guilt, because I was hurting myself, because I was punishing myself for what had happened. I had been only eight years old. Rafael’s face appeared before my eyes, his innocent gaze, his instinctive need to protect his mother no matter the danger. I had been just like him. That realization eased something inside me, something unbearably heavy. I sighed softly as my gaze drifted to Grigori beside me. He had not moved an inch since Elif had been brought in. His eyes remained fixed on her, vacant, exhausted, his hands still stained with blood. He had refused to change, despite the clean clothes one of our men had brought from thehouse. He refused to leave her side. “Moybrat,” I said, resting my hand on his shoulder, his gaze did not waver from his wife, empty, distant. His face was drawn, worn down by grief. “You informed Samy’s family?” he asked in a rough voice and I nodded. “Yes. Marcus took care of it. We’ll go see them once Elif and Selina are out,” I replied, squeezing his shoulder but he did not react. His expression didn’t change.
“How is she? And Nikolai?” he asked again as I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly as I rubbed my face. “She’s going into surgery tomorrow. There… there are risks,” I explained, my throat tightening and he shut his eyes, his shoulders sagging even more. “It feels like a curse has fallen upon the Ivanovs,” he let out a bitter laugh, his head dropping forward as his hand braced against the wall. “Grigori…” I tried, but he shook his head, his shoulders trembling with nervous laughter. “Moybrat,” Roman’s voice joined us as he stepped closer. I saw the worry etched across both his and Sienna’s faces. “The head of the Bratva, huh?” Grigori continued, his palm slamming against the wall. “An incapable man, that’s what I am. A fucking incapable man who couldn’t protect his own wife!”
His fist struck the wall again and again as he shouted, “Grigori!” Roman and I rushed toward him, trying to restrain him. But how could we calm him when the person he loved most was hovering between life and death? How could we, when hope itself felt fragile? “Guys…” Sienna’s voice came softly from behind us, but it drowned beneath the chaos, “Grigori,” Roman growled, catching our brother’s arm. “Guys!” Sienna shouted louder.
We froze, our eyes snapping to her, her gaze was fixed beyond the glass, “something’s happening,” she whispered and our eyes followed hers, to Elif’s body convulsing violently.
“Elif,” her husband breathed as a swarm of nurses and doctors rushed into the room. “Elif!” Grigori shouted, pounding the glassas the medical staff moved frantically around her body, now far too still.
“No,” I breathed as Sienna clutched my arm, one hand covering her mouth, a doctor began chest compressions while another prepared the defibrillator. But it was the sound of a weapon that made my blood run cold. I slowly lifted my gaze to Grigori, his gun pressed against his own temple, his eyes locked on his wife’s body. “Moybrat,” I said darkly, Roman stepped toward him, but Grigori retreated, never looking away from Elif, “Grigori,” Roman warned.
“No Elif, no Grigori,” he spat, his voice resolute and I knew then, there was no reasoning with him. Nikolai loved Selina with his entire being, but he would not have done this. I would love my wife with everything I had, but I would not have done this. Neither would Roman.
But Grigori and Elif were different. Grigori existed because of Elif. Their bond surpassed logic, reason, responsibility, everything. There was only one thing left that could stop him.
My gaze snapped back to Elif as the doctor performing compressions stepped away. The second doctor placed the defibrillator pads against her chest and delivered the shock.
Her body arched violently before collapsing back onto the bed, lifeless. They resumed compressions, increasing the voltage. “Come on, Elif, please,” Sienna whispered, gripping my hand. I clung to that grip as my world threatened to crumble. They delivered a second shock and a deafening silence fell.
Then a beep. Her heart restarted and at the same time Roman lunged for Grigori, ripping the gun from his hand as our brother collapsed to his knees, his hands resting on his thighs. He bent forward and released a scream of raw rage that made us all flinch. I looked at Roman, just as lost as I was. It was the first time we had ever seen our brother like this, utterly broken. We didn’t know what to do. I swallowed hard, running a handthrough my hair, when suddenly Sienna moved past me. She dropped to her knees beside Grigori, placing her delicate hand against his broad back.
“She’s okay, Grigori. She’s back,” she murmured, rubbing his back gently as she leaned closer, her hair falling over her shoulder. Her other hand wrapped around his. “She’s going to wake up,” she said again, tears streaking her cheeks. “She’s strong, stronger and more terrifying than every terrifying woman I’ve ever met. And trust me, I’ve met quite a few” she sniffed, managing a small smile.
Grigori slowly lifted his face toward hers, his eyes darkened with exhaustion and pain. He stared at her for a moment before his hand closed around hers. “She’s going to wake up,” he repeated hoarsely and Sienna nodded vigorously. “Yes. And we’ll get my sister and my niece, and we’ll all go home, where Elif will punish us for being in such a state while she was gone”. She laughed, her voice trembling.
Home. Yes. We would all go home.
Grigori smiled in return, his red-rimmed eyes glistening. An immense weight lifted from my shoulders at the sight of it. I hadn’t realized how deeply his condition affected me, how precious his usual strength, the man I took for granted, truly was. And I realized it because of Sienna. She helped my brother stand, Roman and I watching in stunned silence. Grigori stepped closer to the glass, placing his hand against it as the doctors finished their final checks and exited the room one by one. One of them approached to explain Elif’s condition and all the while, Sienna did not let go of Grigori’s hand, like a little girl trying to reassure her father.
