Chapter 10

WILLA

“Oh, my God. It’s really good to hear your voice. I went to see you at the hospital, but you were—”

“In an induced coma? Yeah. Cleo, I forgot to thank you.”

“I thought—” She starts crying on the other line. “I’m so glad I didn’t go home. I stopped at your favorite sushi restaurant because I knew you’d be at the studio for a while. Willa, I wish I could be there sooner, but the traffic was heavy.”

“It’s fine, Cleo. Thank you so much. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I’m just happy you’re okay. Anyway, I’m surprised to see your brother at the gallery. He said I should keep it open and I should not talk about what happened to anybody. I don’t mean to pry about your family issue, but what’s going on?”

“You know I want nothing to do with his company, especially after what happened with me and—”

“And the Russian hot guy.”

I chuckle. “Yeah. Gabe doesn’t share much, but we both know his company is going through rough times, and he doesn’t want you to tell anybody for your own safety.”

“I don’t see yellow tape, and I haven’t been questioned by the police. So, let me guess, your brother is handling this internally. Because when I found you unconscious, he was the first one I called.”

“The attack might have something to do with him. I’m not sure.”

“Is that why you’re not staying at your apartment? When you were released from the hospital, I went there, but the doorman said you haven’t come home. So I thought, maybe your brother took you somewhere for your protection.”

“I can’t tell you where I am right now, but I’m safe.”

“I understand. Please, get better.”

“Thank you, and be careful.”

“Oh, I’m safe.” She chuckles. “Your brother assigned a hot fella.”

“Ooh.” It’s really painful to smile. “Tell me about the hot fella.”

She laughs. Before she can say something, I hear a knock.

“Miss Linden, it’s me, Andrey.” I already know the pattern of his knock.

“Come in. And call me Willa.” I roll my eyes and cover the phone because nobody has ever visited me but him and the doctor who checked me at ten in the morning. I have to end the call. “Hold that thought, Cleo. I’ll call you soon. I think my doctor is here.”

“Sure. Take care. Bye.”

I hang up the call, but I’m surprised to see who walks in. It’s not Andrey.

My heart races as our gazes lock, magnetizing me with those piercing eyes looking at me intensely.

“What do you want, Ilya? Coming to taunt me? I already gave the ring to your fiancée.” I look away. I can’t win the staring contest with him. It’s tested. We’ve done it before, and he always won.

He stands at the window and shows it to me on his finger already. “You told something to Andrey.”

“About the attacker?” I arch my eyebrow at the way he talks, as if he’s cautious, as if it triggers something.

I’m still traumatized, mentally scarred, but I’m alive. I’m still lucky, if I can call it lucky, that I haven’t been visited by nightmares in my sleep. Maybe because I fall asleep right away once the drugs kick in. 

From time to time, I feel scared. I haven’t put on my AirPods and listened to music. I’m even terrified to close my eyes or sleep with the lights off.

“Yeah.”

“What about it?”

“You mentioned he smelled laundry soap.”

“Yeah, but you don’t believe me.” I scowl.

He finally looks at me again. “I believe you.”

“So? Is it relevant?”

“Yes. Some laundry shops in New York have specific types of detergents.”

“You’re grasping at straws, Ilya. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Of course, I want to find that son of a bitch, and I want to stab him with another brush and watch him bleed. I’m not violent, but after what he did to me, I don’t care if he bleeds out in front of me.”

“Let me take care of it.”

I glare at him. “I thought my brother was taking care of finding this man.”

Stiffening, I swallow hard as I watch him take strides towards me.

“Your brother is under surveillance right now. He can’t be reckless and get caught by the feds while catching bad guys. I can. He chose to bring you here because he and I are nemeses, and no one would think you’re in my care.”

“No. If you put yourself out there while you’re trying to legitimize your business, you’re risking everything to catch that asshole, Ilya. I can’t let you do that.”

“Too late.” He sits on the edge of the bed.

“What do you mean?” Surprised, I ask.

He turns to me. “I already ordered my men the moment your brother came to convince me to take care of you.”

“Don’t do this.” I shake my head. “You’ve got a lot to lose now, Ilya. Let me just heal here for a few weeks, then I’ll be out of your hair. I know you can’t ever forgive me for what I did, and I already accepted that. The least I can do is not to give you trouble with the feds or authorities.”

“I’ve got a lot to lose?” He frowns.

“You’re getting married. If you got caught and went to jail.” Even the thought of him standing at the altar, waiting for his bride, makes me sick with jealousy. But I have to accept the fact that there can be no us. 

He was very clear about it earlier. The sooner I accept it, the better for both of us. And the least I can do is be happy for him, even if it feels like ripping my heart in two.

“I already made my decision.”

“Ilya, please?” I try to get off the bed, but I took off the sling earlier, and I just put weight on my affected shoulder. I gasp in pain, grimacing.

“Jesus. Just stay in bed.”

“Don’t.” He’s maybe quick, but I’m already warning him.

“Stop being stubborn.” He glares at me.

“I’m not being stubborn.” I glare back.

Groaning, he says, “You’re in my care, Willa. Stay in bed until your bruises heal.”

“So, you’re planning on playing hero to catch the bad guy while I’m in bed getting bedsores? No thanks. I’m coming with you.”

He chuckles as he stands up, stepping away.

Determined to push my idea, I challenge him. “What? You should be getting ready for your wedding and spending time with your fiancée. Instead, you wanna play a cop.”

“Are you jealous, Erin Rose?” He smirks. The audacity.

I don’t have the strength, but I grab the first thing I see and throw it at him. “Don’t ever call me that name again.”

He catches my phone effortlessly, like Captain America to Thor’s Mjolnir. He then narrows his eyes, with such darkness and intensity flaring at me, making me hold my breath. 

“Don’t do that again.” Instead of giving me back my phone, he takes it with him.

“Give me my phone, Ilya.” I stand up as well.

“What are you gonna do then, Willa?” He walks towards the door.

“Please?”

“No.” He stops and turns to me, anger and lethal volatility still brewing in his eyes.

My face heats with embarrassment and fear. I stop dead in my tracks.

“Admit that you’re jealous, then you can have your phone back.”

“No. I’m not gonna lie to feed your huge ego, Ilya Vasilyev or whatever your real name is. I’m not jealous.” I just lie, and he knows it. He can probably see it written all over my face, but screw him.

He breathes deeply. “Then when you’re ready to admit your feelings, you know where to find me to get your phone. In the meantime, this—” He waves it at my face while I’m scowling in fury. “Will stay with me. And don’t throw things at me again, Willa. Know your place. Only my woman is allowed to hit me. And you’re not her.”