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His jaw tics, and I can tell he’s trying to conceal the truth from me again. But he thinks better of it as he confesses. “Because it can affect my motor skills as well, even paralysis at times. I’ve mostly had the numbness, but its effective enough even sometimes when I walk.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. “You can’t fight tomorrow! Are you out of your fucking mind?”
An arrogant smile stretches across his face, and I’m so lost for words as to how he can even use that against me right now.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting my entire life for this fight. Not you or this tumor is going to stop me.”
I hate his masculine pride and stupidity, and I already know I can’t change his mind about the fight tomorrow. Trying to convince Dmitri Volkov of anything was like banging my head against a wall. His hand goes to the necklace around my throat, the one he gave me in Texas. His gaze dips to my breasts, most likely thinking of the piercings he’d branded me with.
If he still chooses to fight, then be fucked if he was doing it alone.
“Let me come with you tomorrow,” I gently say.
“Absolutely not. I’m not letting him ever look at you again.”
I cup his jaw, his stubble prickling beneath my fingers. “We’re in this together, right? This isn’t just your fight, Dmitri; it’s both of ours. I want to be there when the life dims from his eyes. And I’ll be there to make sure that you step out alive.”
A tic runs through his jaw. I think he’s about to argue with me, but instead, he asks, “And what comes after that?”
My breath loosens, grateful that he’s not putting up a fight against me this time. But it also pains me to see him so… tired as well. I strengthen my resolve one more time, if only for him.
Only he could find me in the abyss and pull me back out by my hair to keep me fighting one more time.
I have many wounds, scars and reoccurring torment.
But I wasn’t the only one.
At least we have each other.
“Then after… we heal. Together.”
53
DMITRI
“Idon’t think it’s wise that you bring your woman or her sidekick with you,” Luca deplored, referring to Elanee and Layla as we stepped into separate cars. There’s three cars in total. Lorenzo and he share a car with one of the hounds. One hound drives me, Elanee and Layla and the others trail in the car behind us.
Last night had been the first time in a long time that I’d been able to sleep for a few hours. I wanted to bury myself deep inside of Elanee and claim every inch of the woman so perfectly built for me. But she was too sickly and weak. Far worse than she’d ever been.
When I walked in and saw her like that, I broke into a million pieces. I never wanted to see her look like that again. The fight had fled her body and left nothing but a shell, and I would make sure that no matter what, she would come out of this in one piece. Part of me already knows that to do that, I also have to come out alive.
There’s no separating her pain and my pain any longer. I now realize that she would be the same without me as I am without her.
She threads her fingers through mine as we sit in the back seat, peering out into the dark hours of the morning. She’s wearing an all-black pant-suit, which is a stark contrast to her usual creamier tones.
Last night, I had two missed calls from my grandfather. He left one voice message as well after he’d found out I wouldn’t be at my mother’s tonight for our usual dinner. It’s as if he knows something’s wrong because his voice message ends with, ‘Don’t do anything stupid, boy.’
But it reminds me that he, too, cares about me. And no matter what, this was a long time coming.
“You stay behind the hounds the entire time,” I say to them both: the hound who is driving peers into the rearview mirror at me. I never thought I’d be in a position where I’d be relying on the Italian mafia, but I supposed stranger things in life could happen.
“I’ll do that as long as you’re kicking his ass. If I think you’re in danger ,then I’ll step in between, so make sure I don’t.” Elanee presses.
I glare at her. “Elanee, I’m serious.”
“And so am I,” she says defiantly. “The sooner this is over, the sooner you can go in for that operation.”
Layla’s eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to hide a smirk.
