Chapter 13

Dmitry

M y phone buzzes again, and I pull it out to see it's Marshall. I'm certain it will be another tale of Victoria's escapades, so I cancel the call and tune back in to the conversation. For once, I'd like an evening with no drama.

Vivian sidles up beside me, placing her hand in the crook of my arm, and I narrow my eyes. She's gotten far too comfortable this evening and it's beginning to grate on me. "Your father is a hoot," she whispers.

I glance across the room to where he's speaking with a politician. "Yes, he knows how to work the room for sure," I reply, turning away from the group of men so they don't overhear our conversation.

"And I have to say, it's been lovely to be seen and heard," she adds. I arch a brow, waiting for her to continue. "I'm so used to blending into the background with my father manipulating the conversation that I forgot what it was like to speak up and be heard."

"Unfortunately, it seems to be a man's world when it comes to business."

"Well, I'm going to change that," she says with confidence, and I offer a smile. She's determined, and I know she'll achieve it . . . with mine and my father's help, of course. "You know, I like this new truce we have."

"Yes, business doesn't mix well with pleasure. Things are much easier now."

She bristles at my words. "Dmitry, why are you so quick to shut me down whenever I broach the subject of us?"

"Because, Vivian, there is no us. Not anymore."

She stares at me for a moment, a range of emotions passing over her face, and I wish we'd kept the masks in place so I don't have to witness it. "Aren't you tired?" she almost whispers.

"If this is going to be another lecture about Victoria, then save it."

"It's not," she rushes to tell me. "Just, wasn't it easier before her?"

I take a drink of my whiskey. "Good things are worth fighting for."

"Even if it destroys you? You've worked so hard to get here, and she could ruin it all."

"My personal and business lives are completely separate. I can have both."

"Really? So, where is she this evening?" she asks. "Men like you need a strong woman. She's fallen at the first hurdle. Fuck, Dmitry, she's having a breakdown and you've only been seeing each other for a few months. She can't handle this life."

I take a calming breath, unhooking her hand from my arm and leaning in close to her ear. "Vivian, do you know what I love the most about Victoria?" I don't wait for her reply before adding, "That she isn't from this world."

"Love?" she repeats, sounding hurt. "You love her?"

I pull back, draining the last of my drink and placing the empty glass on a nearby table. "Very much so. In fact, what the fuck am I doing here when I could be with her?" I turn on my heel and leave.

Outside, I pull out my mobile and call Marshall back. "Boss," he says, and I stiffen at the sound of panic lacing that one word. "I've been trying to get a hold of you. Nik should be with you any second. He's picking you up and taking you to the hospital. It's Victoria . . . she's hurt."

Nik pulls up and jumps out the car to open my door. "Hurt?" I repeat.

"Boss, we need to get to the hospital," says Nik, guiding me into the car.

"Hurt how?" I ask Marshall.

"I found her with blood and . . ." His voice breaks with emotion. "Fuck, Dmitry, it's bad. Really bad."

I disconnect. My heart is slamming in my chest and sickness settles in the pit of my stomach. "What happened?"

"She cut herself," says Nik, his voice void of any emotion as usual.

"Where were you?"

He turns slightly to look at me, his brow furrowed. "Downstairs."

"Weren't you checking in on her?"

"Of course, but she was asleep, so I left her alone for a couple hours."

I ball my fists in anger. "I told you to check in."

"Every ten minutes?" he spits, and I bristle at the tone he's using. He sighs. "Sorry, Boss. It's been a crazy half-hour." I let it slide, putting it down to emotions, even though the cold bastard doesn't usually have any.

The second he stops outside the hospital, I get out the car and rush inside. Marshall is pacing the emergency waiting room, and the second he sees me, he looks relieved. "Where is she?" I demand.

"Surgery."

I frown. "What do you mean, surgery?"

"Boss, she hit an artery. There was blood everywhere," he hisses. I stare at his blood-soaked shirt. "It's lucky I went in when I did or she'd be . . ." His voice breaks again, and he leaves the sentence hanging.

It's another hour before a doctor approaches us. "I'm Doctor Jenson. Are you related to Victoria?" he asks.

I nod. "Husband," I lie.

"Follow me," he instructs, and we go into a private room.

"Your wife sustained a very nasty cut to her lower left arm. It was so deep, it nicked the artery. Thankfully, we've repaired it, and she should make a full recovery." I sigh in relief, lowering into a seat. "However, it's clear this was self-inflicted. Were you aware of your wife's self-harming behaviours?"

I scrub my hands over my tired face. "Yes. She's receiving help."

He gives a slight nod. "How?"

"She's in therapy a few times a week, and she's just begun medication. Can I see her?"

"Of course. We'll need the name of that medication. Follow me."

Victoria is sleeping. She's half-propped up in the bed with an oxygen mask over her face and a heart monitor hooked up to her. Her arms are laying on top of the covers, both heavily bandaged.

I take her hand, and she stirs, her eyes fluttering open. Relief floods me, and I swoop down to kiss her on the forehead. "My krasota , you scared me." I pull back so we're eye-to-eye and gently brush her hair from her face. "What happened?"

She tries to speak, but the mask makes it impossible for me to hear, so I lift it slightly and tip my ear to her mouth. "I saw you," she whispers, "at the ball." I stiffen at her words, holding my breath as she continues. "You lied again, Dmitry."

I briefly close my eyes. What the fuck have I done? "My krasota ," I begin, "I'm so sorry."

"You should leave now," she murmurs, closing her eyes.

"Victoria, I didn't want to upset you, and I had to show my face. You were sleeping . . ."

Her eyes open, and this time, I see the pain in them. The pain I have caused. "You looked good together," she whispers. "I can't compare to that."

I frown. "Compare?" I repeat. "Compare to who?" And then it dawns on me—she's talking about Vivian again. I groan. "We've talked about this."

Victoria snatches the mask away. "Don't you dare stand here and lie again. I saw you. I saw her kiss your cheek like it was so fucking normal. It doesn't matter if you're screwing her or not, Dmitry. You lied . . . again. And I found you with her . . . again, even though you know how she makes me feel. So, I'm done. I choose to walk away and save myself. Please leave."

As I stumble away, a nurse stops me. "Your wife's belongings," she says, handing me a clear plastic bag. "I didn't want to place them in her locker in that state. It's such a pretty dress, and if you get it cleaned right away, it might come back like new."

I go back into the quiet room and sit down, staring at the bag. Taking a breath, I unzip it and lift out the material. It's beautiful, but it's covered in wet patches, which I can only assume is Victoria's blood. The door opens and Marshall sticks his head in. "Is she okay?" he asks.

I shrug, and he steps farther in. Nik follows, and I drop the dress and charge at him, slamming him up against the wall. "You're a liar," I yell, gripping his shirt in my fists. "You didn't fucking check on her once."

Nik scoffs. "What?"

"You're forgetting who the fuck I am," I growl, punching him hard in the face. His nose cracks, and we're both sprayed in blood.

Marshall pushes himself between us. "Calm down," he hisses, "or they'll kick us out."

I shove Nik one last time before releasing him and swooping down to collect the dress. "She left the manor, and you didn't even fucking realise," I snap, waving the material at him.

"Boss, she was asleep," Nik argues.

"Clearly not," I yell, holding up the dress. "She was at the goddamn ball. She's in that state because of me!"

Marshall takes the dress from me and begins to shove it back in the bag. He's troubled, I can see it on his face. "This will need dry cleaning" is all he says before taking a seat.

I turn back to Nik, who's holding his jacket to his nose. "Go home. Cancel my appointments for the next couple days."

Victoria refuses to speak to me. I've spent the last twenty-four hours in this damn hospital, and each time I go near her, she closes her eyes and acts like I'm not here. And for once, I feel powerless. I can't take her off to the dungeon and fuck her into submission, and it highlights how shit I am at this.

I'm grabbing another coffee from the machine when I spot my father heading towards me. I inwardly groan. So far, I've dodged all his calls. "Nik had no choice," he tells me. "I was tired of getting your voicemail and I forced it out of him."

"And so you thought you'd come here to see Victoria?"

He laughs. "No, Dmitry, of course not. I came to talk some sense into you."

I roll my eyes and head back into the room I've spent the last day living in. "Don't waste your breath."

"She needs help."

"She's getting help."

"I mean from a proper hospital. I can give you the details of a few establishments that could take her."

I sigh heavily. "What are you talking about?"

"She needs sectioning."

I laugh. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Dmitry, she isn't well, and therapy isn't helping or she wouldn't have tried to end her life."

"That's not what she did," I spit angrily.

"I hear she's a pro at this," he remarks. "And you want me to believe she didn't know what she was doing when she severed her artery?"

"She caught it by mistake," I snap. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

The door opens and Victoria's doctor comes in. "I'm sure you'll agree," my father says, and the doctor waits for him to continue, "that she needs sectioning."

He hesitates, looking back and forth between us. "Erm, it's not a bad idea." I roll my eyes, and my father gives me a smug smile. "Sometimes patients just need a good rest from daily life. With Victoria refusing to speak to anyone, it's clear she's not ready to accept the right help."

"So, you think locking her up is the answer?" I demand.

The doctor shakes his head. "That's not what I'm saying. I only came in here to tell you I've spoken to Victoria's therapist, and she's agreed with me that she needs her medication adjusted. But if you're asking for my advice, I'm just saying not to rule it out. She's very vulnerable right now." He leaves, and my father takes a seat.

"Dmitry, you're unfocussed, and being here isn't helping. Get her in a hospital and let them treat her. She can't run away, and you'll know she's in good hands."

"And what if she tells them shit she shouldn't?" I ask, because the last thing we need is her telling a therapist she killed her brother.

He arches a brow. "It's the exact reason you shouldn't fuck someone who isn't already in this life," he reminds me. "But luckily for you, I know a good place. I'll handle it."

"Why?" I ask warily. "You hate her."

He pats me on the shoulder. "I don't hate her. She's just not for you, but it doesn't seem to matter what I do or say because you're determined to stick with her. So, I'll handle this, and you can get back to work."

Tori

Dmitry sits beside the bed like he has done on several occasions since I've been admitted. He doesn't seem to care that I refuse to speak to him.

I feel his hand slip into mine, and before I can pull it away, he grips it tighter. "I understand why you're upset with me," he begins. "I've fucked up more than once when it comes to Vivian, and I haven't handled any of it well. I don't want to make excuses, but I don't know how to deal with any of this." I keep my eyes fixed ahead, refusing to look at him in case I see some kind of vulnerability. I can't let him lure me back. "I haven't really considered your feelings. I've been so focussed on the businesses and trying to keep Vivian from bringing me down . . ." He trails off, and I risk a quick glance. He's exhausted, and my heart twists at the dark circles under his eyes.

"Look at what we're doing to each other," I mutter, and he realises I'm watching him. Relief floods his face. He thinks he's going to break down my defences.

"My krasota , I swear, from this day forward, you will always come first. I can't lose you." I begin to shake my head in protest, but he brings my hand to his heart, holding it there. "I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make you see that."

"I don't trust you," I admit.

He looks hurt at my confession. "After everything?" he queries. "Even Marcus?"

I pull my hand free. "Don't throw that at me."

"I'm not," he rushes to add, "but surely that's the biggest secret we share and you can trust me with it completely."

"When I realised you'd lied to me again," I begin, and he bows his head, "I thought about what Harriet had taught me. I knew I had to stay calm and trust you, but a small part of me had to see for myself, had to prove myself wrong. I stood looking at you both from across the bar, and for the first time, I realised something." He meets my eyes. "We're not meant to be together."

"Victoria," he says, shaking his head sadly.

"Let me finish," I snap. "I can never be her. I can't stand and smile while you make boring small talk with rich wankers. I can't pretend I understand what the hell you're talking about when it comes to business. All we have, Dmitry, is sex."

He moves closer, cupping my face in his hands and gently rubbing his nose against mine. "You're wrong," he says firmly. "I don't want a woman who looks pretty on my arm and knows everything about my fucked-up world. I want you. I want your fire and your crazy. I want you to push the boundaries and keep me on my toes. Victoria, when I thought I'd lost you, I realised I am so madly in love with you that I'd give it all up so we can be together." My heart swells, and my anger slips away as he places gentle kisses over my face. "We can make this work," he whispers, wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "I promise."

"I have the paperwork," barks a voice from behind him, and I feel Dmitry tense.

He keeps my face cupped in his hands as he looks me in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispers. He releases me and straightens his jacket. Dmitry's father steps into view, and I frown. "Give us a moment," says Dmitry. "I haven't spoken to her yet."

"About what?" I snap, pushing to sit straighter. Having that man near me makes my skin crawl, and there's a hint of glee in his eyes as he gives a nod before handing over some paperwork to Dmitry and leaving.

Dmitry takes a deep breath. "We think it might be best if you go away for a few days."

My heart rate speeds up. "What?"

"Just until you feel better."

"I feel fine," I snap.

"Victoria, you're not fine," he says with a sigh. "You're in the hospital. You tried to . . ." He trails off, and I glance down at my bandages.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," I hiss. "I went in too deep, that's all."

"It's just for a short time. My father knows the hospital?—"

I give a cold, empty laugh. "I'm sure he does. I bet he swooped right in here to make the offer, right?"

"It's to help you."

"It's to help you," I scream. "He wants me out the way and you know it. This is him getting what he wants."

Marshall appears in the doorway holding two coffees. He frowns. "What's going on?"

"Get him out," I yell.

"Victoria, calm down," Dmitry orders.

"I'm not going into a fucking mental hospital," I snap. "You don't have my permission."

"A what?" asks Marshall, looking alarmed as he places the coffees down.

"It's for the best," Dmitry tells Marshall.

"Boss, listen to me," he begins, moving between us. "I don't think Tori is unwell."

Dmitry scoffs. "You suddenly got a degree in mental health?"

"No, but I've been thinking about it all, and what if someone is setting her up?"

Dmitry scowls. "What are you implying?"

"What if Vladimir is using one of your men to frame Tori, making her look crazy to get her out the way?"

"Exactly," I cut in.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snaps. "Firstly, I trust all my men. They work for me, not my father. And secondly, you're only feeding her hope by making bullshit excuses. She's unwell, and we have doctors who agree she needs real help."

"What if I'm right?" asks Marshall.

"And what if you're not?" Dmitry returns, getting in his face. "What if she walks out of here and gets a second chance to fucking kill herself?"

"I didn't try to kill myself," I repeat.

"I'm not taking the risk. She's going to the hospital and that's the end of it." He stomps out, and I stare at Marshall.

"I'm not crazy," I mutter.

He nods. "I know. I believe you, but until I can get some evidence, you need to go."

I shake my head. "We're not married. He can't force me."

"Tori, you know as well as I do, he's got all the power here. Do as he says. I'll get you out, I swear."

"And what if you don't?" I ask. "His father and Vivian will let me rot in there."

He grabs my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I'll get through to Dmitry, I know I will. But if you cause a fuss over this, you're only gonna look crazier, proving him right."