Page 149 of Toxic Attraction
Four months pregnant. Unharmed. Asleep with her head resting on the edge of my mattress, one hand clutching mine.
Relief so intense it's physically painful crashes over me.
She's alive. The baby is alive. I didn't fail them.
I try to speak. My throat is raw, scratchy. Nothing comes out except a rough sound.
But it's enough.
Valerie's eyes snap open. She sees me awake, and her face crumples.
"Lev." She's crying immediately. Full sobs. "Oh God, you're awake. You're actually awake."
"Water." It comes out as a croak.
She fumbles for the cup on the side table. Helps me sip through a straw. Cool liquid soothes my burning throat.
"How long?" I manage.
"Four days." She sets down the cup with shaking hands. "You've been unconscious for four days. The surgery lasted nine hours. They had to remove your spleen, repair your lung, and stop internal bleeding. You died on the table, but they brought you back."
Four days. Nine hours of surgery. Died and brought back to life.
"The baby?" I reach for her stomach with the hand that isn't attached to an IV.
"Fine. Healthy. Perfect." She guides my hand to the small curve. "The doctor checked. No damage. No complications. The baby is okay."
Thank God.
"Mila?"
"Safe. She stayed in the panic room like you told her. Yaroslav got her out after Patrick was dead. She's been here every day. They only let her visit for a few minutes at a time because of ICU rules, but she's here."
"Patrick?" I already know the answer but need to hear it.
"Dead." Her voice hardens. "Mikhail shot him. Made sure of it. His entire operation is dismantled. The threat is over, Lev. It's finally over."
Over.
Patrick O'Rourke is dead. Gone.
I can barely process it. The relief is too big. Too overwhelming.
"You almost died." Valerie is crying harder now. "The doctors said another few minutes and you would have bled out. Said it was a miracle you survived at all. I thought I'd lost you. Thought I'd have to raise this baby alone and tell them their father died saving us."
"But I didn't." I pull her closer, careful of the tubes and wires. "I'm here. We're all here. We survived."
I hold her with one arm. Feel the curve of her pregnant belly against my hip. Feel her tears soaking through fabric.
And realize I'm crying too.
Relief. Gratitude. Overwhelming emotion I can't name.
We survived. Against all odds, we actually survived.
A nurse comes to check on me, sees Valerie sobbing in my arms, and begins to protest.
"She stays." My voice is rough but firm. "I don't care about rules. She stays."
