Chapter 30

“I don’t understandwhy you didn’t tell me all of this sooner.” Izzy brings a cup of coffee to the small table beside the wingback chair I’m curled up in, staring out the window in Viktor’s bedroom.

I let go of the drapes, letting them fall back over the window. The sun’s out and the city has come to life. For a Sunday afternoon, it’s pretty busy.

“I was handling it.” I turn around in the chair and fold my legs beneath me, wincing slightly at the pain in my ribs.

Just bruised, not broken, according to the doctor Viktor dragged over in the middle of the night. There’s not much to do, other than to be cautious. The doctor made sure Viktor understood that making me lie in bed could cause other issues or infections. I think he knows the Petrov men well enough to know Viktor would tie me to the bed to ensure I rested.

Izzy sits on the bed and swings her legs.

“I know how independent you are, but I should have been pushier about finding out what was going on with you. I think I wanted you to find some happiness with Viktor, so I didn’t dig too far into it.” She frowns. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Pfft. You have nothing to be sorry about. I do. I brought all this drama with me and now your husband is going to have issues with these Italian families. All because of me.” I pick up the coffee she brought and take a sip.

She waves a hand through the air. “Don’t worry about that. They’ll handle it,” she says confidently. “But, uh, what are you going to do about Viktor?” She eases into the subject I’ve been forcing my mind to stay away from.

“I don’t know.” I slowly lower my feet to the floor and roll my shoulders back. So many muscles ache. “I want to trust him. I thought I could, but he went to Michael behind my back, Izzy.”

“You don’t know what happened exactly. I think you should wait until you talk to him.” Just as she says this, the door creaks open and Viktor enters in his black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair combed back. His dark eyes meet mine from across the room, and it’s too much. I look away.

“Izzy, Andrei is ready. He’s waiting for you downstairs.” He lets go of the door handle and moves further into the room, never taking his eyes off me. The heat of his stare warms my face.

“All right.” She slides off the bed and comes over to me. “I thought he would have dragged me home last night after the doctor said you were all right. I’ll be back tomorrow.” She squeezes my hand.

“I’ll text you. I have a shift tomorrow, but I’m going to look at my schedule and see what I have. I’m not sure I can lift my arms up to do hair for eight hours.” If I even have a job still. Nicole hasn’t called or texted me, but Jimmy said he’d sent the photo to her. She might be waiting for me to show up tomorrow so she can have me perp walked out of the salon.

“Uh. Okay.” Izzy looks over her shoulder at Viktor, then back at me with a smile. “Just call me later. We can talk then.”

She pats Viktor on his arm as she passes him and closes the bedroom door softly behind herself when she leaves.

“You can’t think I’m going to let you go to work.” His voice is hard, but gentle at the same time.

I bring my eyes up to his. “No. I think you’ll try to fight me on it.” I take another sip of my coffee, which he frowns at.

“You should be drinking water, moy sladkiy voin,” he says, glaring at the coffee mug in my hand.

“I will. After coffee.” I put the mug down with a clank. “The doctor didn’t say I couldn’t have coffee, that’s your rule.” I gently push up from the chair to my feet, and he’s at my side in a flash, holding his arms out like I’m a baby taking her first steps.

I laugh and then wince at the pain it causes.

“You’re hurting.”

“Of course I am. I have bruised ribs, a concussion, and the cut on my head is throbbing.” I reach up to touch the three stitches the doctor put in. He’d wanted to shave some of the hair out of the way, but Viktor threatened his life when I objected.

There are some perks of having an overbearing, overprotective man hovering close by.

“I have to move around though, or I could get fluid in my lungs,” I remind him of what the doctor said and start my slow lap around the bedroom. Not just to get some movement, but to put a little distance between us.

I have to ask him.

And I’m more afraid of the answer than I should be.

Because if he confirms what I already suspect, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do what I should. I don’t want to walk away from him.

My eyes burn with tears just thinking about it.

When I get to the dresser, I grab onto the edge and take several deep breaths like the doctor showed me before I face him.

“Did you go to Michael’s yesterday?” I blurt out.

His concern turns to confusion.

“Yesterday afternoon? Yes.” He gives a sharp nod that might as well be a fist to my ribs. It knocks the breath from me.

At least he has the decency not to lie about it right to my face.

I suppose that should count for something.

But it’s not enough.

“Andrei had a meeting with him. Sergei and I went, as we always do when there’s Petrov business to be discussed,” he continues.

My chest unclenches slightly.

But I’m not grasping at hope just yet.

“So, you weren’t there because of me? You didn’t go to give him the recording of Jimmy?” I steady myself with the edge of the dresser.

“No. I told you, we’d handle that together.” His eyes are firm, but I continue to search them for the tell of a lie. And then it hits me, I have no idea what his tell is, because he’s never lied to me before.

Air comes easily now.

“Jimmy saw you,” I say. “He thought you were getting involved. After he got me to his sister’s house, he found the recording on my phone.” I pause, guilt building up in me. “I assumed you’d broken your promise.”

He’s silent for a long beat. His hands flex at his sides.

“Is this why you’ve been so quiet? You thought I betrayed you?” There’s pain in the question, and it makes my own heart ache.

“I’m sorry.” A tear falls down my cheek. “You don’t deserve my doubt.” I remember the look on his face when I thanked him for coming for me last night. My own fucked-up head hurt him.

“You’ve never had a man in your life that gave you reason to do anything but doubt.” He stares at me like he wants to rush me and sweep me up in his arms, but he keeps still.

“But you haven’t,” I point out. “I have another question.”

He nods. “Go ahead.”

“You didn’t seem at all shocked when Theresa said I was Michael’s daughter. You didn’t react at all actually.” Another subject I haven’t allowed myself to dwell on just yet.

His nostrils flare with his exhale.

“Michael told me yesterday afternoon.” He slips his hands into his pockets and shifts his weight to one foot. “After we were finished with what Andrei wanted to see him for, he brought you up… and Jimmy.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he knew about the blackmail. He’d only found out on Friday, and he assured me he would put a stop to it.”

“So, you didn’t have to show him the recording. He already knew.” There’s that tightness again.

He shakes his head. “He made no mention of Jimmy working with Donato, and I said nothing. I don’t know if he knows about that or not.” He pauses. “I did not go behind your back, Marlena. He brought up what he knew and assured me he would take care of it.”

He’s holding something back.

“What else did he say?”

“I was clear on the fact that he was to stay away from you as well.” He puts a hand up before I can think to argue. “I know, I jumped in the middle, but enough trouble has been caused because of him and your history with him. I told him the past was the past and he needed to stay there.”

I can’t fault him for that much. It’s not something I would have the guts to say to Michael on my own.

“That’s when he told me.” He arches a brow. “I won’t go through the whole conversation. He wants to meet with you, to explain everything. I told him it was up to you, and you would reach out to him if you wanted that. He’s not to contact you.”

I let everything sink in.

“Okay,” I finally say and make my way back to the chair, letting him help me back into it. He drags the ottoman from by the bed to sit in front of me, holding my hands in his.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I believe you,” I say. “I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble.”

He brushes the back of his knuckles across my cheek, wiping away the tear drying on my skin.

“You’re no trouble,” he says softly.

“When I left the wedding yesterday, I was so happy.” I squeeze his hand. “I was coming home to tell you something very important, and then Jimmy ruined everything.”

His expression stiffens. “Tell me what?”

“It’s so stupid now, but I was coming home to tell you that I wanted to be with you.”

His brows knit together.

“How is that news? I already told you we were together.”

I laugh. How can I not? This man, this arrogant, arrogant man still won’t consider that I didn’t want him.

“I’m not going to marry you though.” I pull my hand free of his grasp so I can point it at him.

“Oh? No?” Both eyebrows dart up.

“Not yet. We have to get to know each other better. It’s too soon.”

He wraps his hand around my finger, pulls it to his mouth and kisses the tip.

“A compromise then. We won’t be engaged yet. But we’ll live together.”

“I live at my own apartment some of the time,” I offer.

He squishes his lips together. “A better apartment,” he counters.

“If I don’t lose my job, I can agree to that.” I nod. “But when I’m there, you can’t spend the night. It’s my alone time.”

“Alone time?” His left eyebrow peaks. “Two nights a week you can have this alone time, but you’ll call me, and I’ll call you. No ignoring my texts either.” He’s driving a hard bargain.

“Okay, two nights a week I’m at my own apartment, alone—unless I invite you over,” I throw in, because a girl needs room to change her mind. “But no radio silence on those days. I can agree to that.” I put my hand out to shake, and he looks like I’ve just tried to shove a knife into his ribs.

He cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him. The second his mouth touches mine, I’m lost to him. Even the ache in my ribs doesn’t stop me from matching his passion and his hunger.

“Fuck, Marlena.” His heavy breath washes over my face as he presses his forehead against mine. “If we don’t stop now, I’m not going to be able to stop, and if I do to you what I want to do to you, you’ll be hurt.”

I nod. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am, but it’s good that you agree so quickly. It saves us time.”

I laugh, which makes me cough, and then I wince.

And he ends up looking guilty.

“Okay, I don’t care what the doctor says. You need rest.”

“He said I can’t just lie in bed all day,” I argue as he gets up from the ottoman and scoops me up into his arms.

“That’s right. You’ll lie on the couch and watch romantic comedies with me this afternoon.” He manages to get the door open without jostling me.

“That’s your idea of a compromise?” I laugh.

“It’s the best you’re getting. I suggest you take it.”

I lean my head against his neck as he carries me down to the living room.

“I do. I take it.” I smile.

How can I not?

Viktor Petrov is my boyfriend.