Chapter 45

Yaroslav

I managed to stay away from Kim all last night. Even though it was killing me inside. David didn’t make matters any easier, incessantly begging to see her. I didn’t trust him to obey my instructions, so I stayed with him in his room the whole evening, even sleeping on the couch in the room. Not that I slept much anyway, my mind was too tumultuous thinking about Kim. When I realized who David was waving at and I first laid eyes on her again, it took every ounce of my willpower not to run to her.

She looked like a baby bird with a broken wing, fragile and in need of someone to help her fly again. She was dressed in shabby, too big sweatpants and a tee that I knew couldn’t belong to her—hospital issue no doubt. It hid her body, but I could tell from the gauntness of her face that she’d lost weight, even from a distance. If she is in on this with Sharkozi, they’ve managed to do a good job of making her appearance convincing.

When David finally fell asleep, I was able to sneak away to speak to Vova and Artem. They relayed Kim’s story, and their opinions align with mine. There’s no doubt that Sharkozi took her, or that he sold her on, but his motivations are unclear, and it seems that Kim is holding something back.

I decided then that I wanted to speak to Kim and find out the truth for myself but when I entered her room she was in a deep sleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, she looked so peaceful, so restful, as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. I suppose that could be the case. I didn’t allow myself to dwell or watch her sleep, I knew if I did, I’d be lost. I need to stay strong, to maintain my resolve around her until I know if I can trust her completely. Creeping out and closing the door behind me, I returned to David’s room. I spent the rest of the night wide awake, watching my brother’s fitful sleep and agonizing over what I should do next.

I must have drifted off for a brief moment as when I came to, dawn was breaking, the sun casting a pink and orange hue over the ocean’s surface. My muscles are stiff, and my back is screaming in pain at me from spending the night on the couch. Wincing, I stand and leave the room, careful not to wake a still-sleeping David as I head toward Kim’s room.

As instructed, one of my men, Ivan, is stationed outside of Kim’s room, just in case. He jerks to attention, jumping to his feet from the chair he’s sitting on when he sees me approaching.

“Pakhan,” he says with a respectful bow of his head.

“I take it no one’s been in or out as instructed?” I ask.

Ivan shakes his head, “No one, sir, the last person was you.”

“Good. Anything to report, any unusual sounds or disturbances?”

“I think she had a nightmare. It was late and I heard her sounding distressed, crying out. I knocked on the door and was about to go inside when she finally responded that everything was alright, she’d just had a bad dream,” he explains, looking worried that he did the wrong thing.

On the one hand, I want to be annoyed that he didn’t rush inside to check everything was okay when he heard her in distress, but logically, I know that there’s no way anyone could get in or out of the room, and if she then responded saying it was a nightmare, his reaction was reasonable. In all fairness to him, I’d have probably ripped his balls off if he had gone into Kim’s bedroom and comforted her. The thought of any man being close to her in bed, sharing that kind of intimacy, makes me feel irrationally jealous. I imagine he knows that and that’s why he thought twice about rushing inside.

“Anything other than that?” I ask, suppressing the jealous thoughts.

“No, that was it. There was nothing out of the ordinary. About half an hour ago I heard movement and the shower going, so I think she’s awake, but that’s it,” Ivan replies, seeming relieved that I haven’t given him a hard time.

I nod, relieved that Kim is awake so I can speak to her. “Good. You’re dismissed, go and get some rest.”

“Yes, Pakhan,” he says with a nod before heading off.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door to make Kim aware someone is entering, turn the key, and push open the door. It’s make-or-break time.

She’s sat in the window, looking out at the sunrise, her face bathed in the soft glow of the morning light. With a start, I realize she’s cut off all of her hair, shaving it into a buzz cut. The style is severe and yet on her, it looks soft and feminine, highlighting her large eyes and high cheekbones. She looks sad and ethereal, and more beautiful than ever before. She looks up, her eyes meeting mine and quite literally takes my breath away.

She stands, wordlessly turning to face me, her eyes sparkle as unshed tears form in them. We stand, simply looking at each other for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say. Where to start, how to bridge the chasm between us. I find my eyes glancing at her stomach, knowing it’s too soon for her to be showing but recalling my uncle’s words, nonetheless. I find myself looking for the subtlest of clues that might reveal if it’s true, could Kim really be pregnant with my child?

“Yaroslav,” Kim breathes, taking a step toward me. “I was so worried about you, about David. Did Marta…?” she says, her words trailing off.

“Die,” I snap, finishing her question, unable to keep the venom from my voice at the mention of my sister. “Yes. She did, and I was in a fucking coma, and I am now scarred for life, yet miraculously, you survived unscathed. How did that happen?”

Kim recoils as though slapped. “I- I’m so sorry about Marta, I thought that was the case, but I couldn’t help hoping I was wrong.”

“Don’t say her name,” I say, my voice pained.

She nods, dropping her head but not arguing, as though she blames herself for Marta’s death as much as I blame myself.

“I was so worried that you were dead too,” she whispers. As her tears slowly start falling, she adds in a small voice, “And I wouldn’t say I escaped unscathed.”

“Then explain to me what happened. Where the fuck were you and why did Sharkozi just let you go?” I reply, trying to remain unmoved by her emotions, tensing my body to stop myself from reaching out to her.

“I told Vova and Artem what happened, I thought you sent them to question me. Sharkozi didn’t let me go,” she says.

“I did ask them to question you, but now I want to hear it from you,” I reply, unmoved.

All I want to do is go to her, to comfort her and tell her I’m sorry, that she’s safe now. But I can’t allow my emotions to cloud my judgment. I need to remain objective. To her credit, Kim nods, seeming to understand my coldness.

Taking a deep breath she nods and gestures for us to sit. “This will take a while and I’m too weak to stand for a long time.”

She sits down and I hesitate, knowing that if I move to the chair beside her the proximity might make me crumble, but eventually, I give in and sit down. She takes a moment to compose herself before launching into her story. It lines up with what she told Artem and Vova, and for the most part, I can sense she’s telling the truth. But there are times when it feels as though she’s reciting lines from a script, or missing information out.

“Why aren’t you telling me everything?” I ask when she’s finally done.

Her eyes widen and she shifts uncomfortably, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. Why didn’t you mention your brother’s blackmailing you? That my sister sent him one million dollars the day she died?” I ask coldly.

Kim looks shocked, she obviously didn’t realize that I knew this. “I didn’t think it had anything to do with the kidnapping… I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to…” she says struggling to find the right words.

“You didn’t think there was a chance that your brother might be involved? That if he’s willing to blackmail his own sister then he might be willing to do more?” I say incredulously.

Kim looks as though this thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to her before.

“Did you know he signed your grandmother out of the nursing home? I assume you must have known since you haven’t once asked about her since you got here, the woman who raised you.”

Again, Kim looks confused. “Noah signed Gran out?”

I don’t even bother to reply to her, not now I’m on a roll. “And I suppose you also want me to believe that you didn’t know that your best friend Amelia, the woman you introduced me to, is married to Bogdan Sharkozi?” I say, dropping the bombshell that Artem came to me yesterday with. Other than Artem and I, no one else knows we’ve discovered this.

Kim tries to act surprised, but I can tell she already knew this, she’s always been terrible at masking her emotions, it’s one of the things I liked best about her. “I don’t—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I shout, unable to control my frustration.

She flinches as though she’s scared I might hit her. Based on her appearance and her reactions, it’s evident that Kim was being held captive and has experienced some sort of trauma while she was gone, either that or she’s an Oscar-worthy actress. But then why would she lie to me? If she was really held captive and is innocent in all this, why wouldn’t she tell me the truth?

“Was it all a lie? Us? Were you working with Sharkozi this whole time?” I ask.

“No, I swear. Everything between us was real, I didn’t have anything to do with this. You have to believe me!” she exclaims, her eyes pleading.

“Then why are you hiding things, lying to me?” I demand.

“I can’t… I- I’m scared.”

“Of me?” I ask, feeling hurt.

“Of everything, of everyone. I don’t know who I can trust…” she replies, shrinking in on herself.

“You should be able to trust me!”

“You don’t trust me!” she declares, and I see a small spark of the woman I knew coming through.

“Why should I when you’ve been lying to me?”

“I’m not lying…” she says unconvincingly.

“But you’re hiding things,” I state, she doesn’t disagree. “When were you going to tell me about the baby?” I ask, finally unable to stop myself from asking the one thing that’s been bothering me most.

Kim looks surprised and her hand instinctively flies to her stomach. It’s all the evidence I need that Innokentiy was right, she is pregnant.

“How did you know? Did Marta tell you?” she says, her expression guilty and remorseful.

“Marta knew?” I can’t hide my surprise and disappointment that Kim told Marta before me.

Kim nods, “She figured it out… that day. I swear I wanted to tell you but then we were taken.”

“If you’d told me I could have protected you! I would never have let you go out alone. Marta would still be alive!” I shout, the frustration and anger I feel toward myself combining with the hurt that Kim didn’t trust me enough to tell me something so important.

“You don’t think I know that? That I don’t blame myself? That I don’t feel terrible for what happened? You have no idea what I went through, how many days I spent frightened and alone, afraid I would die, that I would lose our baby, that I would never see you again. I went through hell and the only thing that got me through it was the hope of seeing you again and that I had to survive, to do whatever it took to protect our child!” she shouts, distressed.

“Don’t try to manipulate me with your pregnancy,” I snap back, feeling distrustful and confused. “Hell, for all I know right now you’ve made it up to gain my trust or sympathy,” I snarl, jumping out of my seat and prowling over toward her, my jaw and fists clenched.

Immediately it’s like a switch goes off in Kim and she cowers clearly terrified of me. She curls into a ball, clutching her stomach protectively. The move is so instinctive, it’s clear she’s been doing it a lot lately and my heart breaks for her, all of the fight goes out of me. Whatever her reasons for lying, she still has been through hell, that much she can’t fake.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you, ever,” I say softly, meaning every word. Even if she has betrayed me, I couldn’t harm her.

But she’s too deeply in the midst of a panic attack to hear me. Then, suddenly, she moans out in pain, the panic still clear in her eyes but now very much real. A dark red stain begins to appear between her legs and we both look at it terrified of what it means.

This can’t be happening.

“Yaroslav, I think something’s wrong with the baby!” she gasps before passing out.