Page 51 of Conceal

Relief rushes through me.

“I do want to keep you overnight for observation and concussion protocol.”

Tatiana nods and thanks the doctor. As the doctor goes to leave, Roman snags his white jacket.

“Pregnancy?” Roman croaks out.

It takes the doctor a beat before he realizes what he’s asking and checks the chart again. “Oh, yes. The pregnancy test was negative.”

Roman sags in relief, but before Tati can ask him about it, the door presses open again, and Dmitri walks in. Roman and I both stand at attention.

Dmitri’s fuming.

“Chto sluchilos’? Kak ty eto dopustil?” What happened? How did you let this happen?

Nikolai enters next, looking much more calm and controlled, and it causes a spike of anger to slice through me. His sister was just seriously hurt, and he doesn’t seem worried in the least.

“Otets,” Father. Tatiana says, interrupting his rant and pulling the attention off Roman. “I’m fine. Juliet slipped, and we went down. But the doctor just said everything’s fine.”

“Juliet?” he asks, confused.

“My... horse?” She replies, her voice small, like she realizes her father knows nothing about her or her life.

The way Dmitri looks at his daughter makes my skin crawl. How have I never noticed before? There’s not an ounce of compassion in his hard gaze. He has lifeless eyes.

He waves a hand in the air, dismissing the obvious fact that he couldn’t care less about his daughter.

Nikolai nods his head toward the door for my benefit, and I follow him out into the hallway, knowing Roman, at the very least, will protect her.

“Is it true?” he asks without an ounce of compassion. Nikolai and I were friends. We grew up together, wrestled in high school together, lost our virginities to the same chick. But I don’t recognize the man standing in front of me. And that usual simmer of anger that was my constant companion before the cabin returns.

I nod, but I have my own questions. “Did you ever figure out who called the hit on her?”

His brow quirks for a beat, like he forgot that a month ago his sister was almost murdered.

Then he waves his hand dismissively, the same way his father just did, and I realize the boy I considered my best friend is gone - replaced by a younger version of his father.

“I’d forgotten all about that. It was Giovanni Vitale. But it was just a warning, nothing serious.”

I have to breathe through my nose to tamp down my fury. Tatiana almost getting shot is not nothing serious. Roman is still recovering from his bullet wound is not nothing serious.

“How did he know where she was?” I grit out through my teeth. She’d been at that college for years, and no one knew. So what changed now? The Italians have never gone after the Bratva before. Something isn’t adding up. I knew I should have been the one to interrogate that asshole.

Another wave of his hand and I’m tempted to break every single one of his fucking fingers. I need to walk away before I do something I won’t be able to come back from. Like murder my former best friend.

“Remember her ex? Tio or something? Apparently he was running his mouth at a bar, and one of Vitale’s men happened to hear and put two and two together.”

Heat crawls up my neck, and I’m starting to sweat with how hard I’m trying to wrangle my anger. I should’ve killed him instead of just roughing him up.

But... wait... “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“Who called the hit.”

He waves his hand again, and I swear a growl crawls up my throat.

“The day after it happened. I just forgot.”