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He exhales and shakes his head. “It isn’t that, Renata. I trust my brothers. But I don’t like waiting for your brother to find us. I thought I’d feel differently about him once we were alone and safe, but the truth is… I feel like we’re only postponing the inevitable.”
The inevitable being my brother trying to murder me and my new husband putting a bullet between his eyes. Just like he did to that man on the video.
“I agree,” I say. The fried dough sits like a rock in the pit of my stomach. “Let’s go home.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Renata
"It's alright,”I tell Isabella. “You’re going to be okay, breathe.”
She's experiencing contractions, and it’s way, way too fucking early. A few minutes ago, she screamed from the bathroom, telling us she was bleeding heavily. Polina freaked out, her face paling, and she screamed for Lev. I'm standing next to Isabella now, trying to keep my own fear in check.
"Lie down," I tell her softly, guiding her to the couch. "There are plenty of reasons for bleeding, Isabella. Not all of them are dangerous." A woman’s body is complex.
My words are steady, but inside, panic claws at my chest, my heartbeat thrumming in time with every second lost. I’m trying to keep calm, but the fear is clawing at me from the inside.
I hear the sound of a door opening, followed by the stomping of heavy feet, and suddenly, the entire male side of the Romanov family is standing in the doorway—or, more accurately,elbowing each other out of the way. Lev bulldozes through the wall of men, eyes wide, wild with fear, and heads straight toward us. His face is pale, his eyes wide with fear as he looks at me. "What happened?" he asks, his voice tight.
I fill him in quickly. "She needs to get to a hospital immediately," I tell him, keeping my voice as calm as possible. "It could be nothing, but we need to make sure."
Someone is on the phone, calling for an ambulance. I hold Isabella's hand tightly. She is such a strong, ruthless woman, but I've never seen her look more afraid than she does right now.
I speak to her in soothing tones, the way I wish someone would if I were in her situation, stroking my thumb across the top of her hand. "Someone get her something to drink,” I say aloud.
A moment later, Ekaterina arrives with a glass of juice. She kneels on the floor in front of Isabella and gently presses the juice to her lips. "Here, drink this," she says softly.
She brushes her hand across Isabella's brow, and my heart aches. Ekaterina is everyone's mother. She has seen and endured so much, and yet she still has so much more to give.
The sirens grow louder, their wailing cutting through the tense silence. "Lev, come here and sit beside her," I say, glancing up. "One of you needs to go outside and bring the paramedics in so they know where to find her."
Though my heart hurts for Isabella, I tell myself it’s going to be okay. I turn to find Ollie in the wall of men and realize that every one of the men in the room is holding a handgun.
"Put those away," I hiss, staring at them. "You can't have those out now!"
Ollie’s gaze meets mine, and a sheepish smile tugs at his lips, as if his instinct to protect was never in doubt. The others follow suit just before the paramedics arrive. "How do you think those are supposed to save her?" I mutter, shaking my head.
"We didn't know why she was screaming," Ollie explains, his voice low. It makes sense—Polina's scream set everyone on edge, and with the looming threat of Carlos, they all came in here ready to kill.
Reality sinks in like ice down my spine—this really is my life now. We have enemies not just in hiding but possibly standing before us with friendly faces.
Take no prisoners. Show no mercy.
Three paramedics, two women and one man, enter the room and quickly assess the situation.
"I studied midwifery in Colombia," I say calmly. "I believe she may have a complication that could explain the bleeding, but we need to be sure. We want to bring her in right away so she doesn’t lose any more blood."
One glance from the paramedic, and something feels off. My instincts flare—this isn’t right.
Oh God.
Something’s wrong. I shake my head, trying to clear it. It’s probably just Ollie’s suspicious energy rubbing off on me.
"What will you do to treat her?" I ask one of the paramedics.
"We won’t treat her, ma’am," he says quietly. "We’ll bring her to the hospital where she can be evaluated."
"Have you been working with each other for a long time?" I ask, my eyes narrowing. Ekaterina and Polina look at me sharply. It’s not a typical question to ask EMTs, but my instincts are on high alert. Something is wrong here. Something is off.
