Chapter 13

Dalia

“ N ot a chance in hell! I’m going with her!”

Lev’s booming voice pulls me back into the moment.

The world feels like it's spinning out of control, everything fuzzy and surreal.

I catch glimpses of flashing red and blue lights, the urgent wails of ambulance sirens slicing through the night air. Scenes flicker in and out, disjointed and hard to grasp.

I see Lev, his face a mask of concern, arguing heatedly with the EMTs, insisting on riding in the ambulance with me.

The interior of the vehicle is stark and clinical. Lev is there, his hand gripping mine tightly, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirl of chaos.

EMTs hover over me, their voices a distant buzz as they work. I try to speak, to ask what's happening, but a gentle "shush" from one of the EMTs stops me.

"Save your strength," they advise in grim tones.

Panic claws at my insides. Am I going to die? The thought terrifies me, making my heart race even faster. Lev's face swims into view again, his eyes intense and full of concern.

"You're going to be fine," he says, but the worry I see in his gaze makes me doubt his words.

I struggle to stay conscious, fearing that if I close my eyes, it might be for the last time.

Once we arrive at the hospital, I’m wheeled through the ER on a stretcher, everything blurring around me as we zip past bright hospital lights. Lev's right there, squeezing my hand, trying to calm me down with words I can barely hear over all the noise.

The shock is too much for my system and I succumb to the darkness.

When I come to, I'm in a hospital bed, groggy and confused. I try to piece together what went down. That crazy moment with the motorcycle speeding toward me snaps back into focus. I brace myself and check my body, half-expecting to see a broken mess, but it's just a few cuts and bruises.

I scan the room and my heart jumps when I see Lev, slouched in a chair, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. The moment he notices I’m awake he’s on his feet, his eyes scanning me like he’s checking for any missed injuries.

“Don’t move, just stay still,” he says as he rushes over.

He grabs my hand and gently squeezes, and I grip his right back, tightly. I'm hit by a wave of relief and weirdly thrilled that he's here.

"What happened?" I ask, my head pounding like it's hosting its own little rock concert.

Lev looks at me, a serious expression crossing his face. He looks so worn out. "Well, there was an incident at the gala," he cautiously begins to explain.

The memory of bikers and gunshots starts to click into place. "The bikers, the shooting…"

He nods, his expression grave. "Exactly. One of the riders lost control of his bike and nearly ran you over. You fell and smacked your head on the pavement trying to get away.”

Rubbing the back of my head, feeling the tender lump there, I quip, "Well, that would explain why my head feels like it's been used as a drum."

My thoughts dart as more details come back to me. “Luk and Maura. Are they okay?”

Lev nods reassuringly. "Luk's tough. Took a bullet in the arm, but it was a clean through-and-through. He'll be fine." His voice steadies me. "Maura and everyone else are safe, too. It's a damn miracle nobody was seriously hurt—it could've easily turned into a bloodbath."

Relief washes over me, but it's mixed with the realization of just how close we all came to something far worse.

I struggle to sit up, my voice edging with frustration. "Lev, I need to know what's going on. What was that? Why do you carry a gun? Who is trying to hurt your family?" My questions tumble out, each one sharper than the last, demanding answers.

He opens his mouth but just then the door swings open and a doctor comes in.

"Sir, I'll need you to step outside," he says to Lev.

He reluctantly agrees and leaves the room.

As the doctor examines me, my mind races through the possible explanations of what Lev hasn't told me yet, of how deep I'm getting into whatever world the Ivanovs belong to.

Maura’s words echo in my head, hinting at some intense and secretive lifestyle. It's a lot, and here I am, smack in the middle of it, still trying to piece together the full picture while lying in a hospital bed.

"You're very fortunate," the doctor says. "Just a few minor scrapes and a mild concussion. Nothing that won't heal with a bit of rest."

He continues, adjusting his glasses, "We'd like to keep you here overnight for observation, but your husband was quite adamant about taking you home. He's arranged for private medical care to monitor you through the night."

I open my mouth to correct him about Lev not being my husband, but then I think better of it. The thought of spending a night in the hospital sounds less than appealing. "Thank you," I say instead.

The doctor pauses, his expression softening as he glances at his notes again. "Were you aware that you’re pregnant?”

His words hit me like a tidal wave. My eyes widen, and the room starts spinning. For a moment, I feel like I might faint again.

I gaze out the window from the back of Lev's sleek, private car, the night speeding by as we glide through the city. My mind drifts back to the whole Ivanov family huddled in the lobby of the hospital, their faces etched with concern.

The doctor was right about Lev being adamant about keeping me safe. He insisted that I stay over at his place—in my own room, of course. I'd agreed without much thought.

Wrapped in my thoughts and the quiet of the car’s backseat, Lev breaks the silence. "Do we talk about the big news now or wait until we get back?" he asks, his voice low and careful.

I sigh, feeling the weight of the revelation still settling in my chest. "I need some time to process it," I admit, turning to look out the window, watching the city lights blur past.

He nods in understanding, letting the silence envelop us again, giving me space to think.

We pull up to a towering skyscraper smack in the middle of downtown. Lev's casual declaration of, "This is my place," nearly knocks me off my feet. Like his place is just some average Joe's pad and not this glittering column scraping the sky.

As we exit the car, he mentions he's got some top-notch medical specialists on site if we need them.

The lobby is as grand as you'd expect, spacious and swanky, and the tight security gives me a bit of reassurance. I wonder briefly if Lev is expecting more trouble or if this is just an everyday precaution for the high-flying Ivanov lifestyle.

As we step into the penthouse, two doctors approach, their professional demeanor evident. Lev introduces them with a nod. "Dalia, this is Dr. Simon Hale," he gestures toward a tall, silver-haired man with a reassuring presence, "and Dr. Laura Chen," pointing to a petite woman with an attentive yet warm gaze.

Dr. Hale speaks up, his voice calm, "We've prepared one of the spare rooms with everything you might need, including a call button should you require us during the night."

Dr. Chen adds with a smile, "We’ll be staying in the guest rooms downstairs just in case." She scans the expansive layout of the penthouse.

Lev’s tone carries a deeper note of seriousness as he adds, "I trust them with my life. And I mean that quite literally at times."

As they turn to leave, Dr. Chen stops and turns back toward me, offering a gentle smile. "Oh, and congratulations on your pregnancy," she says.

They retreat down the sleek, modern staircase to the lower floor, leaving Lev and me alone in the quiet luxury of his massive penthouse.

When they’re gone, I look at Lev, confusion etched on my face. “How do they know about the pregnancy?”

He reaches for a glass and fills it with water from the tap. “I wanted them to have your full medical picture. They needed to know. But I promise you that I haven’t spoken a word to anyone else about it.”

He hands me the water, and I gulp it down, the cool liquid a small comfort.

Lev pours himself a glass of whiskey, and I can’t help but think how much I’d love one myself right now.

He sits down beside me. "How are you feeling?" he asks, his eyes searching mine.

"Totally overwhelmed," I admit. "I want to know everything about you and your family and what I’m walking into here."

Lev gives a small smile. "There’s time for that. But right now, we need to discuss what happens next."

He takes a sip of his whiskey, then looks me straight in the eye. "We’re getting married."

I blink, taken aback. “Married? Listen, I’m not one of those old-fashioned—” I start to say before he cuts me off.

Lev’s expression hardens. “You don’t have a choice. If I’m the father of your child, I’m going to be there for you, and them. And I’m going to do it the right way.”

His words hang in the air.

I respond, my voice sharp. "You've got some nerve to put my life in danger, then make demands like that."

My head starts to throb as my anger flares. He places his hand on mine, and somehow, his touch calms me right away.

"You're more than entitled to tear into me," he says, his voice steady. "But now's not the time. You need to rest and recover."

I realize he's right, though it frustrates me. "Fine," I mutter. "But don't think this conversation is over."

His lips twitch in a small, almost amused smile. "I wouldn't dare."

I sigh, leaning back in the chair. "And don’t think for a second that I’m going to make this easy for you."

He chuckles. "I wouldn't expect anything less."