“I will carry him. You get inside.”
She did as I said, and I dragged Fyodor towards the back seat of my car, carefully placing him there. He was bleeding out fast, and there was no point in taking this to a hospital. They would never treat a bullet wound without police involvement, and that was the last thing I wanted right now. The kidnappers were still on our trail as well.
I needed a hideout.
“Where are we going?” Ilana asked as I backed the car out.
“I know a place.”
It took us five minutes to get to the Chernykh warehouse in the area, and I quickly opened the doors to take my car inside. It was too easily recognizable, and the kidnappers would know we were here if they spotted the car. Once inside, Ilana helped me lay Fyodor down on the floor as we assessed the wound.
“This is not fatal,” I said.
“Are you certain?” she asked, her eyes widening. I could see she was concerned about her brother.
“Yes. The bullet has barely touched any vital organs. The ribs might be broken, but he will be fine,” I gave my verdict, wondering if I wanted to save this man or not. If the wound was not treated right away, it could very well turn fatal, so everything was up to me now.
“So we should take the bullet out, right?” Ilana asked.
“Why should I help you save your brother, Ilana?” I asked, standing up. “And why did you call me? You could have called one of your brothers.”
“I knew you had a hideout nearby, so it just seemed practical.”
I froze. “That is another lie. I have never told you about a hideout, and you had no idea where we were going when you got in the car.”
She swallowed. “Avgust, I didn’t think. I just knew I needed help, and the first person I went to was you. I knew I had to come to you if I wanted a solution to this problem, and I made the right decision.”
Something cracked open in my chest. She still trusted me. After everything I had done, she still trusted me enough to get her out of a situation that demanded life or death. I had been the first person in her mind, and she had called me. My need to protect her only increased.
“Will you please help me save him, Avgust?” she asked, tears running down her face. “I know you hate all Romanovs, and you owe us nothing but please. That is all I am asking you to do, and then I will disappear from your life forever. I love Fyodor too much to let him die like this before my eyes.”
I stared at her bleeding brother and the horror in her deep green eyes and realized that nothing mattered to me except Ilana.
I was not doing this for Fyodor or the Romanovs, but only for the woman I loved.
I had hurt her a lot already, and maybe that was enough.
I looked between her and her brother, and for the first time, I decided not to choose war.
Instead, I chose her.
Chapter 23 - Ilana
The room smelled like metal, antiseptic, and blood. The warehouse was well-stocked with everything a person could need for first aid. I watched as Avgust opened the cabinets at the far end and took out first-aid kits, medicines, and clean water.
He walked back towards us, where he had picked up and placed Fyodor on the table that he had cleared with brutal efficiency. I could see that Fyodor was in pain despite being only on the verge of consciousness, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack. I still couldn’t believe that Avgust had agreed to help him.
“Take off his shirt,” Avgust instructed, keeping everything on the smaller table beside us.
I quickly unbuttoned Fyodor’s shirt wordlessly, noticing how pale his skin was under the harsh overhead light. The wound was dark and ugly where the bullet had torn through him. It was painful to even look at, but I needed to be here. For my brother. Despite my anger towards them, I did not want any of them to get hurt.
I stood between him and Avgust, watching as Avgust took out antiseptics, cotton, and a sharp metal object from the boxes. He clearly knew what he was doing, and watching him made me feel things I did not even know I could feel. His presence was more than I could have asked for. He took off his suit jacket, his biceps flexing underneath his shirt.
“Wet a clean cloth and wipe off the blood from his chest,” Avgust instructed.
I did exactly as told. I picked up a clean cloth from one of the boxes and dabbed it in some water, gently cleaning the blood that covered Fyodor’s chest. His eyes opened, still heavy withpain, but he seemed conscious now. His gaze raked over me and went to Avgust, his expression hardening.
“Ilana.” Fyodor’s voice came out in a ragged whisper, and I immediately turned to look at him.
