His arm.
“Timofey….”
He glances down as if it’s only now registering. A muscle in his jaw tightens. “It’s nothing,” he says immediately.
“It is not nothing,” I snap.
Before he can argue, I grab his hand and pull him toward the car.
“Get in the passenger seat,” I say sharply. “I’ll drive.”
His eyes flick to mine.
There’s a moment where I expect resistance. Control. Pride.
But then he nods once.
And gets in.
The drive back is fast.
Tense.
His breathing is heavier than I like.
“Hold on,” I tell him, gripping the wheel tighter. “We’re almost there.”
“I’m fine,” he mutters, but it’s strained now.
“Don’t argue with me,” I say. “Just stay awake.”
He laughs. “Valeria, I wasn’t shot in the heart. I think it’s just a graze.”
“Shut up.” I’m scared. He doesn’t know it.
We reach the estate quickly.
The gates open before we even fully stop. Guards rushing forward the moment they see us.
“Sir—” one of them starts.
“Move,” I cut in immediately.
They hesitate.
“I saidmove.”
Something in my voice makes them obey.
I don’t stop walking until I get him inside our room. Then straight into the bathroom.
“Sit,” I order, pushing him gently but firmly onto the closed toilet lid.
He obeys. Quietly.
I grab the first-aid kit without wasting a second.
By the time I kneel in front of him, he’s already watching me.
