He dipped his head in a nod. “That will have to be good enough.”
She picked it up, flipped it open and began reading. The more she read, the more alarmed she became. The patient was a three-year-old male with a degenerative heart condition. “This will be fatal if he doesn’t get surgery immediately.”
“Yes, that’s what his doctor told me,” Ivan sat up in his chair and leaned forward. There was a flash of terrible fire in his dark eyes. “Unfortunately, he botched the procedure, and my great-grandson is now on life-support with little chance at survival.”
“I’m so sorry,” Shaun murmured, meaning it. Though this man had undoubtedly done terrible things throughout his life, she couldn’t help but feel for an old man who might outlive his great-grandchild.
She continued to peruse the images and notes, both pre-surgery and post. She studied the blown-up image of the child’s heart, holding it up to the light so she could see every nuance.
“What are you thinking?” Ivan demanded.
Shaun lowered the image, tucking it into the file. She stared at the old man. “This is why I’m here, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he said, not bothering to cover his true intentions. “This child is my legacy. Even if his parents have more children, none of them will be my Petr. I’ve spent many years hiding the existence of my family but have recently connected with them. Little Petr has given me more joy than I thought possible in the past three years. I can’t watch him die in a hospital bed.”
She thought about what she would say next. She had to step carefully with this man, or she might end up in the same position she’d been in two years ago, a woman with a gun to her head and nowhere to run. She suspected the doctor who had botched the boy’s surgery was no longer among the living.
“I can’t help you.” She saw the thunderclouds gathering on his face and suspected she was about to meet the real Ivan Siberia. She was quick to add, “As you must know, I’m specialized in neurology and a repair surgery this delicate will require a top cardiologist. I may not be able to help you, but I know someone who can.”
Ivan released a breath and relaxed back into his chair. “Thank you.”
“I can give you his name under two conditions.” She ignored his sharpening gaze. “You will not threaten or harm this doctor, no matter the outcome of the surgery. Your great-grandson has a major surgery ahead of him and he’s very fragile.”
Ivan nodded. “Of course. I am not a monster. I wouldn’t bring harm to a person who is trying to help heal my grandson. What is your second condition?”
Shaun chewed her lip, trying to think fast. “You pay him two million dollars for the consultation and another five if he agrees to the surgery.” Was seven million dollars too much? Would he laugh at her and then torture her for the name of the doctor?
“Done.” Ivan’s answer was so quick she rather thought she should have asked for more. As if reading her thoughts, he added, “I will pay any amount if someone gives me the gift of my great-grandson’s life before I leave this earth.”
Shaun smiled. “His name is Dr. Sebastian Ngammi, he lives in South Africa. I met him at a refugee camp in Mozambique. If you give him my name, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help if he can. If your people could give me my phone, I can write his information down for you.”
Ivan made a call and five minutes later, Shaun’s phone was returned to her. She was relieved the battery had enough of a charge that she could access her contacts. She wrote the information inside the file, closed it and placed it on the coffee table.
“Is that all, or was there something else you wished to discuss? I should get back to Jozef.”
“Of course.” Ivan pushed himself slowly and painfully to his feet. It was hard for Shaun not to help, but she suspected he wouldn’t appreciate her acknowledgment of his weakness.
He used his cane to walk her to the door, taking her hand in a light grip and squeezing it in his shaky hand. He didn’t immediately let go.
“There was one more thing I wanted to ask you.” His calculating look sent a shiver down her back. “I know you have been researching methods of repairing a damaged larynx. You’ve gone so far as to research top surgeons in the field of voice recovery, yet you haven’t taken this information to Mr. Koba. Why is that?”
Shaun swallowed hard and gently extracted her hand from Ivan’s. She thought about how to answer him. She didn’t think he gave a shit about Jozef’s lack of voice. No, he was telling her exactly how invasive the Bratva were. They were keeping tabs on her laptop at work. That wasn’t the scariest part, though. The only way the Bratva could know that she hadn’t talked to Jozef about fixing his voice, was to have eyes and ears on everything, every aspect of their lives, including the bedroom.
Still, she had to know. “How do you know I haven’t talked to him?”
Ivan gave her a tight-lipped smile that told her to tread carefully. “I know.”
She nodded and answered the question in the spirit of complete honesty. “Jozef uses his lack of voice to his advantage. It was never a disability to him, and I’m convinced if he could speak, he would lose an important part of who he is.”
“And you feel you should make this choice for him?”
Shaun could feel her face heating. Another secret. But this one was different. After finishing her research, Shaun had concluded that Jozef could have done the same digging if he’d wanted. It was telling that he’d never made moves to have his voice box repaired. Shaun didn’t want him to ever think she saw him as less than he was because he communicated differently.
Yes, a secret, but not one that would damage Jozef’s trust in her. One that would protect his feelings.
Ivan studied her face and finally, when it was clear she wouldn’t respond, he said, “Perhaps you will fit in better among the Bratva than I originally thought. You enjoy playing god, don’t you? Good day, Mrs. Koba. My regards to your husband.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Fatima giggled at Shaun’s description of a drunk Jozef.
“He must’ve been a bear the next morning,” Fatima mused. “It seems so out of character for him to overindulge.”
Shaun laughed and sipped the rich burgundy liquid from her wine glass. “He was certainly growling like a bear. It took a lot of convincing before he would let me take care of him, but I finally got some painkillers and toast into him and he turned back into a human. Later, he told me he rarely drank that much and didn’t plan on ever doing it again.”
“Famous last words.”
“Yes,” Shaun agreed. “Though Jozef is usually pretty responsible. I think it was the excitement of meeting with the other Vor for the first time. I wonder if the other wives discovered drunk husbands in their rooms that night?”
Shaun was filling her mother in on the details of her trip to Russia with Jozef. The five days spent at the palace were indeed the vacation Jozef had suggested they would be. Except for evening meals and one more meeting for Jozef, they were left alone to occupy themselves. Shaun rode a horse for the first time in her life and discovered she much preferred looking at them than riding on them.
She and Jozef made a trip into the town to shop for souvenirs, meeting with Cooper and Ayaan and taking in the local sites. Truly, Shaun had enjoyed her time in Russia far more than she thought she would.
She hadn’t seen Ivan again after their meeting, but the shadow of their conversation never quite left her until she and Jozef were in the air on their private jet and on their way back home. She understood why Ivan Siberia was once known as the fiercest mobster in Russia. Even at his current age, he still held sway over the rest of the Bratva.
Shaun was sitting at the stool in her mother’s kitchen enjoying the sights and smells of one of her favourite dishes. Shaun’s father had also loved bademjan, an eggplant and tomato stew.
Fatima loved to cook. She’d often told Shaun that it was how Persian mothers showed their love, by stuffing their children full and sending them to doctor school. S
haun had risen to the occasion on both counts. She loved her mother’s cooking and she’d become a surgeon.
“Tell me,” Fatima said in the tone of voice that suggested Shaun was about to hear something she wouldn’t like. “When will I see my grandchildren? I’ve been waiting for months and still I don’t detect a bump or a glow.”
Shaun winced and took a long drink of her wine before replying. “The glow is a myth. Most women sweat more because they produce heat from carrying the extra weight. The sweat can bead on the forehead, causing a glow.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Fatima said sharply.
“I’m sorry, mom. It’s just not something I really want to talk about.”
Fatima must have caught the wistful note in Shaun’s voice because she turned from the stove and looked at her daughter carefully.
“Is everything okay?”
Tears formed in Shaun’s eyes and she almost started sobbing. It was a simple question, but she couldn’t answer it because she knew if she opened her mouth, a wail would come out.
Fatima saw her distress and rushed around the island, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Shaun twisted on the stool, hugging her mother back. The tears began falling despite her effort to hold them back.
“Come on, let’s sit on the couch where we can be comfortable.”
Fatima held Shaun’s hand as they sat, stroking her arm gently.
“I just…” a sob escaped, and Shaun swiped impatiently at her tears. “I’m a world-renowned surgeon! I can fix tumours that are supposed to be inoperable. I save lives. I travel to impossible places and do impossible things, but I can’t have a baby!”
It was a jumble of words that probably didn’t make much sense, but Fatima seemed to get the gist. “How do you know you can’t have a baby?” she asked softly.
“Because we’ve never used birth control and we have plenty of… “ Shaun drifted off, pressing her fingers under her eyelids. “We should’ve gotten pregnant by now.” Again, she paused, then added, “I didn’t even know I wanted kids. My career has always been so important, I didn’t want to think about taking time off for babies.”
“And now that you’re married and have the income to support a child while working, it feels like a real possibility.”
“Yes,” Shaun said, misery lacing her words. “I’m almost 36. What if I’ve waited too long?”
Fatima sighed and took Shaun’s hand, squeezing it. “You’re the doctor, you tell me.”
Shaun stared at her mother, then wiped away the tears and tried to get her brain to work. “I suppose there are plenty of women having babies later in life now, in their late thirties and forties. With health care and medicine where it’s at, women can have babies later and still carry to term.” Shaun shook her head. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t get pregnant.”
“How do you know you can’t get pregnant?” Fatima asked, her voice taking on a scolding edge. “You haven’t been trying for very long and you’ve had some traumatic years. Your body might not want you to get pregnant as long as you’re in fight-or-flight mode. Have you seen a gynecologist or a fertility specialist?”
Shaun nodded. “We’re waiting for results.”
“Then you’re worrying about nothing, because there’s nothing you can do until you know.”
Shaun opened her mouth, then closed it. Her mother was right, but the lack of pregnancy wasn’t all there was to it.
“It feels wrong to deliberately bring a child into the Bratva, mom.” Shaun glanced over her shoulder at the door. Jozef was downstairs with his men. He’d promised to come up for dinner. “My husband is a Vor. His life will always be in danger. If he has a child, that child’s life will also be in danger. I can’t help but wonder… maybe this is fate’s way of preventing us from making a huge mistake and bringing a child into our messy lives.”
“Nonsense,” Fatima snapped as soon as the words had left Shaun’s mouth. “Regardless of how you have a child, deliberate or not, you’re still taking responsibility for it. You chose this life, now you need to embrace it.”
Fatima pushed herself up off the couch and headed for the kitchen, patting Shaun’s head along the way. She returned, handing Shaun her wineglass, then went back to the stove to stir the stew and start the jasmine rice.
Shaun sat cross-legged on the couch, sipped her wine and thought about what her mother had said to her.
Fatima was right. It was time to stop resisting the life she had finally accepted as hers. She needed to take the next step and embrace it. She could never condone the violence, but she accepted that it was part of being with Jozef.
If there was one thing she’d learned over the past few years, it was that life was messy. There were no simple answers. She could hate aspects of Jozef’s profession, but she couldn’t hate the man. In fact, she loved him beyond reason, and she wanted to have a baby. His baby.
She looked at her mother.
“Come to a decision?” Fatima asked, filling a pot with water.
“I’m going to get in touch with the gynecologist tomorrow, see if she has anything yet.”
They continued to talk until supper time. Shaun described the rest of her trip to Russia and listened while Fatima filled Shaun in on Saskia’s studies. Saskia was spending more and more time with Fatima. Shaun suspected her mother was becoming a surrogate for Saskia’s parents. It was a sad thought, but hopefully Saskia might finally get what she needed from a parental figure.
Jozef knocked once before letting himself into the apartment. He beelined for Fatima, his nose twitching in anticipation.
Something smells amazing. My mother-in-law is the best cook I know.
He bent to kiss her cheek.
“Flatterer.” Fatima waved him away, but a smile stretched her lips. “Go sit with your wife. Supper will be ready soon.”
Jozef settled onto the couch next to Shaun, leaning over to press a lingering kiss to her lips, while pulling her wineglass away.
He took a long sip before returning the glass to her and settling back against the couch cushions.
Shaun couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her husband. The man she would spend the rest of her life with. He was breathtakingly beautiful in a hard, ruthless sort of way. She was becoming used to the deadly air about him. He would never hurt her. She was inside his bubble, safe at his side.
His eyes had drifted shut and his breathing slowed. His long dark eyelashes cast shadows over his cheeks, giving him an innocent look while his starkly painted tattoos peeked from beneath the collar of his shirt.
Though he had full command of the Czech Republic underworld, it was a full-time job. He didn’t get enough sleep and was often called away in the night to put out a fire.
“Supper,” Fatima called to them.
They helped her carry the dishes and food to the table, then sat together.
Jozef tapped the table and waved his hand across the spread of dishes. Thank you for inviting us here to share your supper. These meals are some of my favourite. I will treasure them as I treasure you.
Fatima blushed.
“You are a flatterer,” Shaun laughed.
You’re just jealous I’m not flattering you.
He dished himself up a heaping plate while Shaun and Fatima laughed.
Chapter Forty-Four
Nikolay had a bad feeling. He’d had it for months, but when no one accused him of betraying Jozef, he’d shoved the feeling aside. They didn’t know. He was safe.
Then why did he feel like the sword of Damocles was hanging over his head, awaiting the right moment to drop?
“Saskia.”
He’d been standing in the shadows outside her suite, waiting for her to appear. She was coming down the hall toward him, her blue headphones wrapped around her neck, her wild brown hair a messy halo around her head. She wore tight ripped jeans, a black hoodie and running shoes. It hit him that she was really quite beautiful in her own way.
Yet, in this moment, with the light of the sun behind her, she looked ethereal. He felt a moment of loss, but quickly shook it away. His survival might depend on what he said. If he married Saskia, which was his plan, then he could insinuate himself in the family once more.
He thought he’d gotten away with Halil’s murder, but gradually over the past few months he’d come to suspect that something wasn’t right. Jozef had been coming up with excuses not to send him on missions with the other men. At first, the excuses sounded legitimate, and Nikolay hadn’t worried.
Jozef had appealed to Nikolay’s vanity, and like an idiot, he’d fallen for it. Jozef had told him that as a Koba heir, he was to be protected. He’d been flattered and allowed a temporary replacement on the team without complaint. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Jozef’s reason for not sending him on missions was bullshit.
Jozef had always been Krystoff’s heir, yet he’d done the most dangerous work out of all of them. No one had ever used Nikolay’s distant familial connection as a reason to keep him safe.
Gradually, over the past months, Nikolay was forced to conclude that since the night of the club attack, he’d been given fewer and fewer responsibilities. He was no longer privy to important information, and he was kept out of team meetings.
What he didn’t understand was, if they knew about his involvement with Halil’s death, why hadn’t they already come after him? If they knew he was the betrayer, then he should be dead. Shouldn’t he?
Saskia did what she did every time she saw him on the estate. She ignored him. She turned her back on him and dug her keys from her purse, while pretending he wasn’t standing three feet away from her. It brought his predator to the surface.
Goodnight, Sinners (Sinner's Empire Book 3) Page 28