Page 70 of Savage Boss
The doctor, a man named Azarov, is quick and mostly silent and exhibits a disturbing lack of facial expressions. He gives me a mechanical order to lie on the bed in heavily accented English and works with the efficiency—and warmth—of a machine. His hands are so cold, I jerk each time he touches me.
He checks my vitals, listens to the baby’s heartbeat, and confirms that the blast didn’t leave any lasting damage. The wave of dizzying relief at the news doesn’t quite wash away the feeling of violation from the cold Dr. Azarov. I’m grateful when he mutters a few words in Russian to Dmitri and leaves.
“He’ll be back tomorrow to check on you again,” Dmitritranslatesas the emotionless doctor slips from the room.
I would love to use the smart-ass part of my brain. But I’m too exhausted, my head fuzzy, as a headache throbs behind my eyes. I lean back against the pillows and close my eyes, trying to push away the cold fear that I can’t seem to shake.
The floor creaks, and I open my eyes to find Dmitri staring at me. But it’s not with the eyes of the man who held my hand at dinner, who held me on the drive here, murmuring soft words that everything would be okay, that I was safe with him.
No, Dmitri is already shedding the last remnants of that man in favor of thepakhanof the SmirnovBratva. When he turns without another word and starts for the door, I know where it leads. Not just out of the room, but to a path stained with blood, death, and revenge.
“Dmitri.” I push myself out of the bed and go after him. “Dmitri, wait.”
He stops and turns to me. His expression softens slightly before the mask of iron slips back into place. “There are things that need my attention.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” I step closer, my bare feet sinking into the carpet. “I know exactly where you’re going and what you’re going to do. Don’t pacify me.”
The hard look in his eyes doesn’t waver. “Andrey must be taken care of. The bomb was a declaration of war, Clara, aimed at the future of my family. He crossed a line, and this time, I’m going to deal with it the way I should have dealt with it before.”
I grab his arm, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his bicep. “Don’t. You know that’s exactly what he wants, what he’s waiting for you to do. If you—” my voice cracks, the events of the night way too overwhelming. “Don’t go. Please don’t go after him. I don’t want to lose you.”
Dmitri pulls his arm from my grasp, though gently, and keeps my hand captive in his. The ice in his eyes thaws slightly. “I have to go,moya lyubimaya. Andrey tried to kill us. He tried to kill the woman I love and take the life of my child again. I promised to keep you safe. And if I do not do this now, Andrey will come back again and again and again until he’s achieved his goal. Next time, it will be a car bomb, or a sniper, or a bioweapon, or a fire. He will not stop until every part of my world is fire and ash, and that includes you. I cannot let that happen.”
His voice rises as he talks, the chips of ice in his eyes turning to burning fires.
“Then we leave!” I cry, panic and desperation twisting inside my chest. “We go somewhere else. Anywhere else. We disappear. We become ghosts, other people, Dmitri. We have resources—you have resources—and we can have a life with this baby, where no one knows your name, and no one can reach us.”
Fire and ice now stare back at me. “You know I cannot. There is nowhere to run where Andrey will not find us. And if I run now, I lose everything. The entire organization will collapse, leaving a power vacuum, and every snake in the area will slither in to takemyplace. Everything will be in danger, Clara, and morepeople will die in the resulting war. It’s what Andrey wants—he wants me to watch him destroy everything I own and love. I am safer here, on my throne, and you are safest when I’m strong. There is no choice.”
I slip one hand out of his grasp and put it to the curve of my belly, starting to round and become visible. “We’re having a baby. A life.Ourlife. This baby needs a father who is alive, Dmitri.”
The words hit him. I see it in the way his shoulders tense, the way his jaw tightens. For a fraction of a second, thepakhanrecedes. His eyes drift closed, and for a moment, I think I’ve reached him, that he’ll make a different choice.
But then he opens his eyes, the frozen fire harder and colder than before.
“It is because of the baby that I’m doing this. Our child will not know fear because its father was too weak to extinguish his enemies. This baby will be protected by an empire, not hiding in the middle of nowhere under a fake name. Not running. The spilling of Andrey’s blood ensures our peace.”
He lifts my chin with one finger, forcing me to look up into the brutal resolve that has replaced all tenderness and humanity.
“I will not rest, Clara. Not until Andrey is gone forever. I cannot. My oath, my life, and now your lives, depend on it. I will not lose another person I love.”
The last is not just a promise, but an oath, to be followed until it is done or until Dmitri is dead.
When he releases me, I feel a shock from the broken contact, suddenly cold as he walks to the door. But he stops at thethreshold and turns back one last time. There is a deep, profound sadness in his expression, but it’s secondary to the cold, hard edge that burns with revenge, death, and darkness. He knows the cost of this moment and the fractureitcreates between us.
“I will call you when it is over,” he promises. “Do not open the door to anyone but Pavel or me.”
And then he leaves.
Theclickas the door latches echoes too loudly, and I listen to his footsteps fadeaway to somewhere I can’t follow. I want to run after him, to demand he stay, but I can’t seem to move. Instead, I remain inthis sterile cage of gold while the darkness embraces and swallows Dmitri.
It takes a while before I move, following his footsteps into the main room that feels so vast and empty now. The city is a million tiny shards of light thatspreadout below me. I press my forehead against the freezing glass, the pressure a physical counterpoint to the raging chaos inside.
It’s not long before the tears come, hot and unstoppable, streaming down my face.Idon’t try to stop them; there is no audience, no need for a lawyer’s composure. The city lights blur into streaks, swirling together until they’reindistinguishablefrom each other.Iam alone and pregnant, abandoned to the consequences of falling for a man I was never meant to find and now don’t want to live without.
I know that everything Dmitri does, the thoughtful, passionate, complex, dangerous, brutal man that he is, is rooted in his fierce, absolute need to keep our child and me safe. He is going out tohunt down the man who tried to kill us, who most likely killed his wife and child, risking his life for ours.
He’s in ruthlesspakhanmode, the side of him that can pull the trigger of his gun without flinching and without remorse. The side that leaves me alone to go out and kill someone, not only to keep us safe, but because that’s who he is. It is the world he not only comes from, but exists within, to continue his rule, even if it soaks his hands in blood.
