Page 87

"Who the fuck are you?" If this is another in a long line of twisted Mafia lords, then that window is growing very appealing.

The man smiles lightly and rubs at the dark facial hair clinging to his jaw. The hair is so fine that it seems to melt into his golden skin and his blue eyes crinkle slightly. He shakes his head, and his light brown hair lifts as a few strands escape his hairline and sweep down across his handsome face. As his face relaxes, what I thought was a deep wrinkle under his eye turns out to be a small scar in the shape of an arrow.

"They told me you might react like that. I'm surprised you haven't tried to throw something at me," he says.

"Don't tempt me." Exhaustion pulls at my shoulders but before it can fully settle, the man leans forward and rests his elbows on his denim-clad knees.

"My name is Ruslan. I'm the Ace of the Suit. Cassian mentioned me, didn't he?"

It takes a second to make the connection, but I remember him being mentioned once or twice. It's not enough to lower my defenses, but I ease back into the pillows behind me.

"Why are you here?"

"Why else?" He smirks and then shakes his head. "Raven is with Cassian. Valentina and Bradley are dealing with the fallout of everything. Your daughter⁠—"

"Illyana?" I bolt upright again. "She's alive? She's okay?"

"She's perfectly fine," Ruslan assures me. "I can take you to see her once you have your bearings."

"I have my bearings," I snap, and I pull back the covers, only to pause as the rest of what Ruslan said sinks in. "Cassian… how is he?"

"He's in a coma." Ruslan's face tightens and his lips press into a thin line. "He broke a lot of… well, everything, when he fell. Lost a lot of blood. But Raven tells me he's looking good and we shouldn't be worried." He smiles again. "So he will be okay."

A coma.

Because of me.

He wouldn't be in that state, wouldn't even have been at the gala if not for me. A complicated rush of emotions clashes in my chest, relief colliding with swelling guilt and upset. He'd looked so injured on the floor, and knowing he is alive, but not quite with us, doesn't ease that upset.

"I saw him," I murmur, my gaze falling back to the bed. "On the floor and I thought… I thought I could help you."

"That was impressive." Ruslan leans back in his chair. "Getting from your bed all the way down to the gala with mere stitches holding you together. That's some insane determination."

I meet his blue eyes and smile weakly. "I didn't want him to get hurt because of me again."

"He got hurt because of arrogant cunts, not because of you. And, by the way, you're doing well. Our doctors looked you over when you arrived here, and it looks like the surgery to remove your kidney was smooth. There's some light infection so you're on some medication, but everything looks good. Same for Illyana. She's taken well to your kidney, or so they tell me."

"Oh, my God…" Tears suddenly spring into my eyes and I cover my mouth with a trembling hand. "I-I was so scared she was gone!"

"I know." Ruslan's face softens with warmth. "You've done amazing. Saving your daughter. Bringing to light this utterly twisted deal between those two families. You give me a run for my money, that's for sure."

I can't hold back my sob and my entire frame shakes as tears roll down my cheeks, but as quickly as they start, I will them away with a few deep breaths and sniffles. "I-I need to see her."

"Illyana?"

I nod.

"Alright. But you have to stay in the chair." Ruslan points toward the door where a wheelchair rests beside the wall. "Raven's orders."

Ruslan gently lifts me into the wheelchair and brings me out of the room into a familiar hallway, and the tension knotted inside me starts to unwind. The walls are familiar, the scents of coffee and spice in the air are familiar, and the glimpses of windows I catch as he wheels me down the hall are all familiar enough that warmth blooms in my chest.

This is home for Cassian.

I am safe here.

Ruslan wheels me into a brightly colored room with various jungle animals painted on the walls. Given the slight sharpness in the air and the gloss over the paint, they must be a recent addition. Illyana's sitting up in bed with coloring supplies surrounding her and cartoons playing on the TV across from her bed, but she looks up as I wheel in and a wide smile crosses her pale face.

"You're okay!"