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She ran to where Owen sat and cupped his head with one hand. Patting his cheeks with the other one to wake him up, she whispered, “Owen, can you hear me?”
His eyes opened slightly, and a weak smile formed on his lips. “Zia,” he whispers back. “You’re here.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling her heart squeeze in her chest. “I’m so sorry for this.”
Owen laughed sardonically, his voice filled with hatred and no remove. “I am not,” he said through gritted teeth. “All of this would have been worth it if I’d gotten the chance to rip you apart that day. I’ll make you pay, bitch.”
Surprisingly, his words weren’t a knife to Zia’s chest. She didn’t feel sorry for him because she thought he was remorseful. Men like him wore their egos on their sleeves, and with what Lev had done to him, he felt he had no reason to apologize. “I’ll get a doctor to look at you,” she said, ignoring his insult. “I hope we never see you again after that.”
He didn’t refuse when she freed him from the rope bounding him to the chair and called one of the guards outside to help carry him out of the basement. She also knew Lev was glaring at her and that he hated that she was helping Owen.
She took him to one of the guest rooms. Dr. Volkov arrived moments later—a Russian man in his sixties with gray hair, a thick accent, and a handsome face.
Zia stood at the door, watching as he took care of Owen’s wound. The other man was in immense pain, groaning and sweating despite how cold it was.
“Will he be okay?” Zia asked when he finished.
The old doctor nodded. “The wound isn’t infected, and I’ve applied some antibiotics. He’ll be in pain for a few days, so I added some painkiller to his prescription.”
“Thank you,” Zia said, heaving a sigh of relief. Owen would be scared, but he deserved that much for what he did to her. All she cared about was that he wasn’t going to die.
Dr. Volkov sighed. “Lev doesn’t look too happy about him being here.”
Was it so bad that he noticed despite having arrived only thirty minutes ago? She stroked her robe. “Well, he’s within his right to be upset.”
“I don’t know what is going on between you two, but don’t make it a habit to go against him, especially in front of his men. It’ll only make him look weak to them.” Without another word, the doctor picked up his briefcase and walked out of the room.
Zia remained in the same spot he’d left her for a couple of minutes. She tried to process what Dr. Volkov had just said. She’d taken Lev’s prisoner against his will and defied him in front of his men; was that the reason he’d been glaring at her so quietly?
Her shoulders sagged, heavy with a weight she hadn’t noticed she carried until now. Lev wasn’t to be blamed—she knew that much. A normal man would have reported Owen to the police and had him pay for his crimes, but Lev wasn’t a normal man. He was part of the Bratva, and that made him different. That made his idea of just punishment different.
She was wrong, but she couldn’t accept it. She couldn’t apologize when she was struggling herself. She didn’t fit into this world with the cruelty and brutality that surrounded it.
Glancing at Owen one last time, she opened the door and left the room.
Her eyes met dark ones as Lev stood at the other end of the hall, nodding to something Dr. Volkov was telling him.
Dr. Volkov turned around, nodded at her, and walked away.
Lev’s eyes bore into hers. She almost stepped forward to talk to him, not knowing what to say but knowing she had to say something to curb the tension rising between them. But Lev walked away before she could.
He was mad at her because she’d defended a man who tried to hurt her. God, she was fucking weak and stupid. She had to do better if she wanted this thing between them to work.
Owen’s cough caught her attention. He was sitting on the edge of the bed when she went inside the room.
“You’re awake,” she said, leaving the door open just in case she needed to run. She recognized the look in his eyes as murderous and hateful. She’d saved him from her husband, but the reason that happened to him was because of her. Because of what he’d tried to do to her.
She hadn’t forgotten the fear that had coursed through that afternoon. If Konstantin had come in any later, he would have forced himself on her. He would have hurt her.
“You must feel good about yourself,” he said with a smirk. “How did you get a man like him to marry you? Surely, he doesn’t love you or think of you as anything special.”
Her chest rose, every breath strained with anger. “Insult me and my husband one more time, and I will make you regret it.”
He horse-laughed. His wounds hadn’t even healed yet, but he was already taunting her. He didn’t even feel sorry for what he did.
Zia wondered if she should have let him die. In the end, she’d disrespected Lev for an imbecile like him.
“You’ll pay. You and your fucking husband,” Owen swore. “I’ll have you, and he’ll watch.”
