by Brook Wilder
“Danya, I’m sorry,” she mumbles repeatedly. “I tried to protect it, but I couldn’t. The stairs, they threw me down the fucking stairs.” She gasps in pain as I struggle not to lose it at her words. “They were going to … they almost …”
“It’s all right,” I tell her as I smooth her hair from her sweat-drenched face. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see. I’m right here, Stella. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter 22
Stella
The bed beneath me is soft, not hard cement. I’m covered in a blanket, too. There’s beeping close by and when my eyes flutter open, a clean, white room comes into view. It’s dimly lit with two lamps. There’s a window, but it’s dark outside. The clinic? My head aches when I work at remembering what occurred.
Then, bit by bit, it starts to come back, bringing with it a wave of pain that leaves me squirming as if I can escape it. I try to sit up, but there’s a hand holding mine. I blink to clear away the fogginess of my mind and spy Danya’s head of dark hair resting on the edge of the bed. I tug on my hand again and he bolts upright.
“Stella?” He runs a hand down his face then stands. “Didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Just lie back. You shouldn’t be moving around too much.”
I do as he says, sinking into the pillows, and never let go of his hand. I try to speak but am overwhelmed by a tidal wave of raw emotions. I cry, and then he’s there, gently wiping away the tears from my sore cheeks. He kisses my forehead and my bruised cheeks, holding me close to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers fiercely. “I’m so damn sorry.”
“You didn’t do this to me,” I reply when I’m able to talk, though my voice is rough from being choked. The fight we had seems so long ago now after what I’ve been through. “Francesco did.”
Danya’s body tenses and his arms close protectively around me. “He can’t hurt you again.”
I start to ask why, when the final moments in that horrid basement come back to me. Danya breaking in and shooting those men right as they were about to hang me from the ceiling with fucking chains. Hearing Francesco’s laugh being cut off by Danya’s arrival. I remember him taking me in his arms and then, as we passed Francesco, he said something to me. I can’t recall the words, but my hand squeezes Danya’s as I recall what I did.
“I killed him.”
Danya nods. “He’s dead, Stella. He can’t hurt you anymore, him or his fucking men. My men took care of the place and the bodies. There’s nothing left.”
I swallow hard and sit back enough so I can see Danya’s face. His hazel eyes are filled with anger, but there’s pain there, and regret. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He starts to pull away then gives his head a little shake and stops. “I should’ve gotten there sooner. I never should’ve left you alone. Fuck, I never should’ve said what I did to you and this wouldn’t have happened. It’s all my fault.”
“What are you talking about?”
He licks his lips, then his gaze slips to my belly. “I’m so sorry, so goddamn sorry.”
Numbness takes over my body as I follow his gaze down then place my hand against my stomach. “No,” I whisper, then bite back a sob. “The baby?”
Danya shakes his head and my chest heaves as I fight to catch my breath. He’s speaking to me, but I can’t hear anything. Then someone’s screaming and I realize belatedly it’s me. I shove against Danya’s chest to get him away, but he wraps his arms around me tighter and holds me against his firm chest. I stop fighting and go completely limp as I cry for the loss of our unborn child. They stole it from us before it even had a chance at life.
Danya carefully climbs all the way onto the bed with me and I curl into his body as he hugs me. I bury my face in his shirt as the harsh reality of my wounds crashes into me. What’s worse is when the guilt comes in waves that leave me sick to my stomach. I push against Danya and just make it to the bathroom attached to the small room. I dry-heave as Danya rushes in after me, holding my hair back and soothing me the best he can. But he shouldn’t be. I shove weakly at him to get him away and stumble around the room. My right leg burns from the gunshot wound and when I collapse to the cold linoleum floor, Danya is right there with me.
“No,” I shout and scramble to get away from him. “Don’t. I did this. It’s my fault. The baby, me losing it, it’s all my fault.” I swipe at the tears blurring my vision and streaming down my cheeks. “It’s all my fault.”
“You didn’t beat yourself up, Stella,” he says harshly. “You didn’t throw yourself down a set of fucking stairs. This is not your fault.” He reaches for me again, but I throw out my hand to ward him off.
“I got myself captured because I didn’t listen to you.” I struggle to catch my breath as sobs wrack my body. “Why don’t you hate me?” I gasp. “We just lost everything because of me.” I wrap my hands around my stomach and double over.
Danya draws me onto his lap and lifts my head. “Look at me.”
“No, just leave me alone.”
“Stella, look at me,” he repeats sternly. I sniff loudly then find my eyes drifting upward until they land on his hazel ones. I’m shocked to see tears in his eyes that he doesn’t bother to brush away. “I do not hate you. I will never hate you. You are my heart, no matter what happens.” He kisses my forehead then hugs me. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought you were dying when I carried you in here, and my heart shattered. I can’t live without you in my life, you hear me? I can’t.”
“But you’re right. All I do is mess up.”
“No,” he argues. “You fight. You’ve always been a fighter. I was a dumbass to think you’d let the fight go once we were wed instead of trying to keep going.” His fingers carefully trail along my cheeks and my split lips. “I wish I could bring Francesco back to life and tear him to pieces for you. Make him scream in agony as I make him bleed. Those pictures he sent me, God, I’ve never been so consumed by bloodlust. I was ready to take on the whole fucking city to get to you.”
The broken heart I had at the end of our fight begins to put itself back together at his words. “I’m sorry I left.”
“I pushed you away. I didn’t mean what I said to you. None of it. I do not want you to change, not ever.” He sadly glances at the little space between us. “This is on me. All of it. I should have brought you into my plans from the beginning.”
“You didn’t know Mikhail was going to get shot.”
“No, not dealing with the twins. What I wanted to do with the family business.”
“What do you mean?”
He picks me up in his arms and carries me back to bed. He settles against the pillows, holding me to his side. “You left your mark on me all those years,” he says quietly. “Mikhail trained me as his right-hand man, his heartless killer, but all these years there’s always been a voice in my head telling me I could do some good in this world. Not enough to balance the bad I’ve done and will still do, but maybe enough to turn this wretched life into something other than what it is. It’d be nice to make a profit off something good instead of addicts and dealers.”
“We can still do that, can’t we?”
His arms curl around me protectively and he shakes his head. “After our fight, I went to confront Andrei,” he whispers, glancing toward the hospital door. I spy a familiar head through the glass window. Lukas keeping watch as always. “It turned into a fight. He’s dead. I killed him.”
“What, why? You had no proof yet.”
“He threatened you,” he says with a growl. “I couldn’t let him live. All anyone knows right now is someone burned his house to the ground. They haven’t discovered his body yet, but it won’t be long.”
“And Aleksandr?”
“Can’t find him, though you should thank Elena for me getting to you as soon as I did.”
My brow furrows. “Her?”
“She came to me, told me her father had you kidnapped. She knew how far he’d go to get what he wanted, and it d
idn’t sit well with her.” Danya’s face darkens, and he struggles for words then simply gives up. I’ve never seen him so distraught. He rests his cheek on my head, making it impossible for me to keep staring into his eyes.
I want to disappear into his arms forever. His touch helps chase away the physical pain, but the mental agony we’ve both been through the last few hours will take much longer to fade. I tuck my head lower, breathing him in, and then I’m crying all over again. Danya presses his lips to the top of my head and folds me into his embrace even more. Despite the uncertainty I had about our future with a baby, I imagined it growing inside me. Seeing Danya’s smile as he’d one day hold me and our baby safe in his arms. Picturing him loving our newborn baby no matter what it turned out to be.
All of that is gone now. All of it.
“Stella,” Danya says a long while later, leaning back so he can tilt my face up to his. His eyes search mine, but I’m not sure what he’s looking for. “You might not want to talk about it yet, what you went through at the house, but you’re going to need to one day.”
“Worried I’ll turn into you?” I murmur. “Might not be so bad.”
He breathes out heavily through his nose and kisses my forehead, keeping his lips there for a long while. “I don’t want that to happen. There’s good in you, and I’d like it to stay that way.”
“But maybe I don’t.”
He sits up straighter and looks me in the eye. “You don’t mean that.”
“I think I do.” I lick my lips, feeling how split and swollen they are from the beating I took. I haven’t even bothered to look in the mirror to see how bad the damage is. Not that I care about my face. That will heal. I can’t get my baby back. “It wasn’t just Francesco and his men who hit me,” I whisper, and Danya’s jaw clenches. “They did the most damage, and they would’ve done worse if you hadn’t … if you, uh … shit.”
I’m shaking, remembering how those men looked at me. How Francesco stood by cackling, ready to watch his men have their way with me. There are no tears this time. Just raw anger that builds inside me until I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.
“Francesco is dead.”
“I know. If you’re worried about his death affecting me, it has.” I run my fingers through Danya’s beard and gently kiss his lips. “Now I know I’m capable of killing.”
“No. You will not be in that situation again. Ever.”
I squeeze his arm as I say, “I want to be.” He gives me a confused look as I swing my feet around and scoot to the edge of the bed. “Francesco might be dead, but the asshole who did this to me is alive. He brought me to that bastard. He’s the first one who raised a hand against me. He wanted me to lose my baby.” I glance at Danya over my shoulder. The intense need to spill the man’s blood fuels my next words. “I’m going to find Jack Bennet and put a bullet through his skull.”
“If you want Jack dead, I’ll hunt him down and kill him.”
“I have to do it. I want to do it.”
My lip twitches as I remember how Jack enjoyed slapping my face. How he would’ve done more if Francesco would’ve let him, all because of some lover. Some man who had to be working for the families. I don’t much care about his motives. Seeing his blood spilled and hearing him yelp in pain, that will help soothe the gaping hole inside me. My hands fist in the sheets as I picture him bleeding out slowly, begging for his life.
Danya stands and then he’s in front of me, his hands covering mine. The seconds tick by and the resolve in his gaze grows firmer. Then he nods, and the bond that brought us together so long ago solidifies until I sense, without a doubt, no one will break us apart.
“I’ll help you get revenge. Everything we do from now on, we do together. No more hiding, no more sneaking around each other’s backs.” He hesitates then pushes on. “If Jack dead is what you want, then we’ll track him down and you can kill him.” His eyes narrow and he cups my cheek the best he can with how bruised it is. “It’ll change you, Stella.”
“I’ve already changed,” I tell him. “There’s no going back to who I was. They destroyed the old Stella. I just hope you can love the new one, too.”
“You are my heart. I will never stop loving you.”
There’s so much more I can tell he wants to say, and so do I, but this isn’t the time. I pull him close and hug him as he runs his fingers through my hair, carefully working free the knots. I keep my face pressed against his chest, soothed by the steady beating of his heart. It’s still beating, and so is mine. I fist my hands in his shirt, holding onto what’s real and right in front of me. We have plenty of time to mourn what we lost after we get our revenge. With one of the twins dead, it’ll only be a matter of time until Aleksandr and Nadia come calling. Eventually, someone will figure out it was Danya who killed Andrei, and then we’ll be in for a real fight.
I was an idiot to think there’d be a time we’d be safe from the violence. There’s no more fighting against who this world is trying to make me become. If taking a darker road will lead to my salvation and Danya’s, then that’s what I’ll do. At least now, if we fail, there’s no baby to worry about. Jack and Francesco saw to that. I’ve only ever held a gun twice in my life. Once I get out of here, I’ll have to practice my aim.
I don’t want to miss my chance the moment Jack is in my sights. He’s not getting away with what he did to me.
Chapter 23
Danya
Stella takes her time climbing the stairs once we return to the mansion. I don’t plan on us being here for more than an hour to gather what we need. The city is no longer safe for either of us. I’m going to take Stella to a safe house, far away, and then I’ll come back and clean up the mess. I wait until Stella’s at the top of the stairs and turns toward the hall, then hurry to the study. I don’t have to grab much, but there are a few things I won’t leave behind.
A photograph of Stella and me from when we were younger. One from more recently that she took and printed out. I’d hoped soon enough we’d have a photo of us and our child, but that will just have to wait.
I lean heavily on my desk as the weight of that loss falls over me again. I wanted Stella to become a part of who I really am, to one day understand the darker side of me, but not like this. I certainly didn’t want her to become me. I bash my fists atop my desk and, with a sweep of my arm, clear it of the laptop and stacks of files that cover it.
“The car’s ready,” Lukas says from the doorway.
I gather up the few things I came here to get and step around the mess I’m leaving behind. “And the decoy?”
“Also complete. There’s a private jet with seats reserved for you and Stella heading to your private island in the Bahamas,” he tells me. “The rest of your men are standing by to escort you two across the country. Sure you don’t want to fly?”
“Too much of a risk. Driving is safer.”
“Danya, there’s something else.” He looks hesitant to speak on it, but when I nail him with a glare, he gives in. “I just got a call from one of our guys. He’s been following up on the leads you gave him on your brothers.”
“And?”
“The twins aren’t the ones who made the original deal with De Luca.” He rubs his face as if trying to find a way to deliver news that’s going to piss me off more than I already am. “It’s Nadia.”
I wait for the shock to hit me at his words, but I find myself smiling bitterly instead. “I should’ve known. She hated what Mikhail was doing. Hated how he let the other families manipulate our business. She told him time and again how weak he was becoming. She put this together. All of it.”
“Why would she want to bring down her own family?”
“She’s not. She’s ensuring the sons she can control take charge. Or son, rather. Fuck. Mikhail was so blinded by his love for her, he never thought she’d be the one to stab him in the back.”
With Francesco and Andrei dead, Nadia will have to put all her efforts into protecting Aleksandr and El
ena. They’re her only chance to keep hold of her power. All Camilla and Elena have to do is join together behind my mother and Aleksandr and there will be a new force to be reckoned with in the city. Any man loyal to me, Mikhail, or Lev, too, I’d imagine, will be weeded out.
“There’s more,” Lukas says. He glances upstairs first then tells me, “Nadia put out a hit on you and Stella about five minutes ago.”
“Of course she did. Right, I’ll get Stella. We’ll be ready to leave in five.”
I take the stairs two at a time and check Stella’s room first. There’s a black duffel waiting by the door, but she’s not in there. I hurry down the hall and open the door to my room. She’s tucking my clothes in a second bag and doesn’t even glance up when I enter. I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her as she puts the rest of the items in then zips it up.