Darkness …
It surrounded him, engulfed him to the point that he didn’t know where one thing began, and where it ended. There was just … nothing, until his consciousness came rushing back and Kaz Markovic woke, choking as he tried to breathe.
Barely able to open his eyes, he reached blindly for the contraption covering his mouth, ready to rip the thing free so he could finally breathe, but he was weak, weaker than he had ever been in his life. He could hardly lift his own arms, let alone try to remove the hose in his throat.
And fuck if his throat didn’t hurt.
Actually, all of him hurt. Every last inch of his body felt like he had been stuffed through a meat grinder and spit back out. Kaz almost wished he could fall back under, anything to escape the agony he was suffering from, but the pain was too great to do anything else but focus on himself.
Beeping machines slowly filtered in, then voices—calm, soothing voices that were telling him he would be just fine—that the doctor was coming in and the tube would be removed.
He tried to listen, tried to reason with himself, but he was lost in the pain, in the darkness that he couldn’t escape.
It felt like he was fucking drowning.
But as quickly as it all threatened to overwhelm him, he heard quick steps, a faint gasp, then a soft hand curling around his own, the dainty thing squeezing tight. “It’s okay. I’m right here, Kaz. I’m right here.”
Violet …
Her voice was enough to calm some of the panic threatening to consume him. He clung to that—squeezed her hand as tight as he could just to remind himself that she was real.
That he was alive.
Everything was still foggy, though he now knew he had to be in a hospital, considering the commotion going on around him. But where he had been … It still felt like he was there.
Like a tangible thing that wasn’t yet ready to let him go.
He could still feel the snow. How that cold bled into his clothes, sinking into his flesh, until it was the only thing he could focus on even as his life’s essence slowly left his body from the savage wound in his neck. As he’d laid there dying, he had almost been glad for it—thankful that, if even for a short period of time, the blood spilling from him had chased the cold away.
But even that small comfort hadn’t lasted for long—not when he was too weak to do anything more than lay there, staring up at the night sky.
Time hadn’t seemed so fluid then. It didn’t speed by in quick flashes. No, he felt every last beat of his heart, the organ working against him even as it tried to save his life. It was slow, and painful, at least until the numbness took him over.
That blessed numbness.
For once in his life, he hadn’t wanted to feel anything.
For once in his life, he had hoped death would take him quickly.
But as quickly as that thought had formed, he thought of Violet. His wife. The person in the world he loved the most.
He could only imagine her devastation at learning of his fate—what would happen to her once he was gone?
He had to live, if only for her.
But what could he do in the wee hours of the morning when there was no one around to hear him? He couldn’t call out for help—Vasily had made sure of that with a flick of his wrist. And with the blood loss, he had been too weak to do anything more than lay on the cold sidewalk as the snow fell all around him.
It would have been a beautiful death …
Until Rus found him.
The sound of squealing tires had jarred him awake, dragging him back to consciousness as treacherous hope flared, but even then, he had been too weak to even raise his hand. But his brother, the big stubborn bastard, hadn’t come alone.
And when he’d found him …
Kaz didn’t think he had ever seen his brother look so devastated. There was no anger, just a profound sadness and fear that told him he was closer to death than he realized.
You don’t get to fucking die! He remembered Rus saying those words low and sharp as his hands covered Kaz’s, as though that could help staunch the flow of blow that had gradually eased.
He clung to those words as his consciousness ebbed, even as Rus continued to shout at him, barking orders at the men who were near.
He’d still been shouting when Kaz had passed out.
How long ago had that been?
Trying to focus his chaotic thoughts on the present, Kaz let Violet’s hold anchor him as he felt another set of his hands on him. The scent of antiseptic assaulted his senses as the man, a doctor he assumed, carefully removed the tube from his mouth and throat.
He gagged, renewed pain assaulting him as it was pulled free. It felt like someone was pulling knives out of him. Once it was gone, Kaz finally dragged in a breath, even with the agony it caused.
Pain only meant he had survived.
Commotion was all around him as the doctors checked his vitals and listed off details to Violet, he thought, since he could barely comprehend what they were saying.
“He’s making good progress,” someone to his left said. “With the extent of his … injury, and the minor case of pneumonia, his recovery time is unknown at this point. Had it only been one or the other, we might have been able to give a more definitive answer, but as of now, only time will tell.”
Not much longer, the room was emptying, and silence returned once more.
Kaz hated it.
But as he tried to open his mouth to speak, the pain flared again, making him groan.
“The doctors said it was going to take a while,” Violet said softly, her voice closer than it had been before. “Don’t try to talk just yet.”
Kaz wished at that moment that he was able to open his eyes, just so he could see her face, but already, he could feel what little strength he had waning—the abyss threatening to swallow him again.
“Sleep,” she said a moment before she touched his face. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
He couldn’t fight it if he tried.
Three days.
Or at least that was the length of time Kaz suspected he was in and out of consciousness since that first day he had woken up. Weaker than he had ever been, it had taken much longer than he would have liked to actually stay awake instead of just drifting off.
When nurses weren’t walking in and out of his private room to stick him with needles, drawing blood, and changing his fluids, there was the doctor that came in and out periodically to update him on his condition.
He was fucking tired of it.
With the wound to his throat, he still wasn’t supposed to try speaking just yet, though they had promised once it healed more, all would be fine. He was just ready to go home. The smell of the hospital was making him nauseous, and the idea of having to stay there for even a day longer made him feel like he was about to lose his mind.
But there was no point in saying he was ready to go home—not with Violet in the room with him, hanging on the doctor’s every word.
Kaz might not have been able to talk, but once he was staying awake longer than just a few minutes at a time, a pad and a pen had been given to him to write down anything he needed.
He only wanted one thing at the moment …
“We can’t take you home yet,” Violet said, glaring at him even as she moved to the head of his bed to fluff his pillow. “The doctor said—don’t give me that,” she said as he rolled his eyes, tossing the pen down. “In case you don’t remember, you were in a coma, Kaz. You’re staying here until you’re discharged.”
For fuck’s sake.
It didn’t matter how many times he told her he was fine—that he could recover at home just as well as he could in the hospital—she wasn’t hearing it. Kaz had to resign himself to the fact that he was going to be stuck there until someone signed off on the paperwork.
Worse, he wasn’t able to bribe anyone into letting him go sooner because Violet made it a point to remain at his side, at least whenever he was awake. At the moment, he couldn’t decide whether he loved her for it or hated it.
“You look like shit,” Rus announced as he strolled into the room with a cup of coffee in hand. “But at least you’re not dead.”
Gone was his usual suit, replaced with jeans and a shirt with a faded logo. He was casual—almost too casual.
He might not have been able to talk, but Kaz’s hands were functioning just fine, and he made good use of them as he flipped Rus off.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. You look a lot better than how I found you.”
That last statement was a bit somber, his gaze dropping to the floor a moment before he took a seat on the other side of the room. Rus very rarely, if ever, showed emotion. Well, besides anger. He had picked up that trait up from their father, though he would never admit it.
Leveling a look on Rus, it didn’t take long for him to understand the silent message.
“Have you eaten today, Violet?” Rus asked, looking over at her even as he pulled out his wallet.
She frowned, glancing at Kaz. “But he needs—”
“Don’t worry. He’s in good hands. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”
Violet was still hesitant, but after looking back and forth between the pair of them—and probably guessing they needed to talk—she finally nodded. Once she had disappeared out the door after accepting the money Rus practically shoved into her hand, Kaz grabbed the little pad of paper and started scribbling.
Finished, he tossed it toward the end of the bed for Rus to read.
Vasily.
Kaz didn’t have to write more for him to understand what he was asking.
“Gone,” Rus said regrettably. “Al—”
Voices sounded just outside the hospital room before Vera suddenly burst through the doors, eyes wide and frantic as she hurried over to Kaz’s side, but more curious was the man casually strolling in behind her.
Alfie Shelby.
He took the seat closest to Kaz, the one Violet had abandoned mere minutes before. But it wasn’t because of Kaz that Alfie chose that one specifically, he knew. This one allowed him not to have his back to the door and was just off from the window.
After everything Kaz had faced over the last nine months, he understood the man’s precaution.
Which was another reason he was ready to get the hell out of this hospital.
“I got back as soon as I could,” Vera rushed to say as she dropped a comforting hand on his shoulder, her eyes dropping to the bandage on his throat.
When she looked at him expectantly, he realized she didn’t know that he was unable to speak—still—so he pointed first to the bandage, then down toward the end of the bed where the pad sat.
“Papa did this?” she asked, her voice going low, but gone was the usual heat that accompanied any statement she made about their father. “But he loves you …”
Kaz understood what she really meant.
He was their father’s prodigy, the person he intended to carry on his legacy. No matter what wrong Kaz committed over the years, Vasily shrugged it off—if only because he wanted to ensure Kaz did as he was asked.
To his siblings, Kaz was Vasily’s favorite. His boy. His pride and joy.
But not knowing what to say, even if he could, Kaz shrugged.
There was no rational explanation. Not one he could think of, anyway.
Tapping out a cadence on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, Alfie glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “Men do dangerous things when backed into a corner. Nature of the beast.”
His remark drew the attention of the room, and after a beat, Rus asked the question Kaz was thinking. “What are you doing here, Alfie?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kaz thought he saw Vera tense.
“Came to offer my services, mate,” Alfie responded, gesturing to Kaz with ringed fingers. “Three weeks in this place can do things to you. Besides, I owe Kazimir a debt.”
Rus’ expression didn’t shift from the look of discontent. “Right. You’re here for Kaz …” He couldn’t sound more disbelieving if he tried.
“At the moment, but in the interest of time, how about we ignore me, yeah? And get back to Kazimir. As you were saying, I’ve not found your father, but I was told he’s left the country. Probably gone off back to your motherland.”
It made sense.
Especially with Vasily’s ties to some of the men there. They ensured him a level of protection that he wouldn’t otherwise have, especially here. By now, he had to know he didn’t kill Kaz—word would have eventually found him—so not only was Rus after him, but Kaz wouldn’t be far behind.
As soon as he got back on his feet.
Or even if he wasn’t.
Gesturing to the pad, Kaz wrote something else once Vera handed it over. This one was for Alfie.
What are you offering?
“Medical care. I—”
“We have doctors,” Rus said, taking another sip of his coffee.
Rus hadn’t been in a particularly good mood when he came in the room, but now, with Alfie, he was just being antagonistic.
“Sure. How many have you threatened into working for you, hmm? You Russians are more brawn than brain. I have a team of surgeons on call, not because I promised to cut off their fucking fingers, but because I do good business.”
“If my brother hadn’t vouched for you,” Rus returned darkly, “you would be dead.”
“And by whose hand, mate? You wouldn’t make it past the door.”
“Stop it,” Vera said, daring to wade into the middle of the two.
“This is where you’ve been?” Rus asked, switching to Russian as he glared at their sister. “Of all the bastards in this city, you pick Alfie fucking Shelby.”
“It’s not like that.”
And if Kaz hadn’t heard the way her voice wavered as she said that, he would have never believed it. Vera didn’t just dislike their father, she hated everything he stood for. Including the lifestyles they led. She’d made it a point to avoid as much of it as she could since the day she left home.
The idea of her with someone like Alfie—especially someone like Alfie—was unreal.
“Then what is it like?” Rus demanded.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Her tone was firm.
“No, no,” Alfie said as he relaxed back further in his chair with a lazy smile on his face. “I’d prefer you talk about me in my face and not behind my back, thanks.”
Now, all eyes turned to him.
“You speak Russian?” Rus asked, as though that fact was just another thing to add to the list of shit he disliked about the man.
“I’m a man of many talents, mate. Many talents. Now, go on. Finish your little discussion—pretend I’m not even here.”
Before Rus, or Vera for that matter, could get another word in, Kaz decided it was time to break this up. The last thing he needed was the three of them going around in circles—not right now, at least.
He needed to take care of Vasily first. Whether he liked it or not was immaterial. His sister was an adult and wouldn’t listen to a word of caution if her mind was made up on something. Later, once Vasily was in the ground and no longer a threat, Kaz would get an answer from Alfie as to when he had gotten involved with his sister.
“Now isn’t the time,” Kaz forced himself to say, his voice coming off high and scratchy. He sounded nothing like himself. “One problem at a time.”
“Two problems,” Alfie spoke up. “Two problems on your hands, mate. Don’t forget you didn’t just piss off Vasily, but you’ve made enemies of the Italians, too. Or did you forget Alberto’s visit a few days ago?”
What the fuck?
Alfie looked surprised. “You didn’t know? Maybe he wasn’t here for you.”
Violet chose that moment to come back into the room saying, “The food down there was—oh.” She came up short when she saw Vera at Kaz’s side and Alfie seated. “Why does everyone look like that?”
“Rus, find the doctor and get me out of here,” Kaz demanded. “Alfie, set up whatever you were… setting up. Vera—” He looked at his sister, making sure she understood just how serious he was. It didn’t matter that she was older, he was still her brother. “We’ll talk later.”
She nodded, obviously not expecting otherwise.
“Now, give me the room.”
It wasn’t long before the three of them shuffled out and Violet watched them go a moment before walking to his bedside. “You have that look on your face.”
Raising his brow, he asked, “What look?”
“Where you’re about to do something reckless.”
“I won’t, not yet at least. But tell me,” he said as he sat up a little straighter. “What was your father doing here, and why didn’t you tell me?”
Violet refused to shrink under the hard stare Kaz was currently leveling her with, despite knowing she should have told him about her father’s appearance a week before.
“Well?” Kaz asked, his voice scratchy and higher than normal. “Are you going to stand there and say nothing?”
“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Violet settled on saying.
Kaz’s jaw clenched. “That is not what I asked, Violet.”
“I know what you asked. The fact remains that you’re not supposed to be talking. That’s why you have a goddamn pen and pad.”
If Kaz’s scowl could have gotten deeper, Violet was sure it would have at that moment. Silent, he leaned over and grabbed the pen and pad, marking on the lined paper with hard, fast strokes. Then he turned it around for her to see the one word he’d written in the large space.
TALK, it read.
Kaz tossed the pad aside, the pen following right after. “There I used the fucking things.”
Violet tampered the flare of annoyance at his show, knowing damn well it wouldn’t do either of them any good to get into an argument while he was like he was, and she was like she was. It certainly wouldn’t help them.
“Alberto did show up,” Violet said. “Cornered me in an elevator, actually.”
Kaz did not look pleased. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“You were in a coma, Kaz.”
“Rus—”
“Had people all over this hospital—inside and out—yet my father still managed to get in. He still found me. It happened, it’s over, and I handled it.”
Kaz let out a sound that resembled a scoff, but Violet couldn’t be sure what with his voice the way it was. “I’m sure.”
Violet let that comment roll off her shoulders, not willing to take the bait.
“Why not tell Rus after, then?” Kaz asked.
“What good would it have done?”
He threw his hands high, frustration writing heavy lines across his brow. “You do realize we’re not playing games, yes? The entire point is to keep your father away.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
“No, I’m being—”
“An asshole,” Violet interrupted softly.
Not saying another thing, Violet snatched one of the many unopened bottles of water sitting on a side table, cracked the top off, and took a long drink as she made herself comfortable in one of the chairs against the wall. For a long while, the two said nothing to one another, letting the thick tension hang in the air.
Kaz broke the silence first, speaking quieter than before. “I want to keep you safe.”
“All these people—all the men Rus had watching the place—and he still found me,” Violet repeated with a shrug. “Maybe you don’t want to admit it, Kaz, but your threats aren’t working where Alberto is concerned. If they were, he would have stopped by now.”
“Violet—”
“Let’s see if mine did, okay?”
Kaz’s eyebrow lifted at that statement. “What threat is that exactly?”
“When he had me in the elevator, he told me the same thing he told me before we married,” Violet said, picking her purse up from the floor to find the plastic bottle she needed inside. “That nothing was unfixable—he’d forgive anything I did if I just went with him.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“Cut the attitude, Kaz. Between the way I feel and the headache I have, there’s no need to add to it with your mood.”
Surprisingly, he rested back on the bed, arms behind his head. “You don’t look sick, Violet. Tired would be a better word, no?”
“Funny thing, that is. It’s all the fucking same. Or so I’m learning.”
She chose not to elaborate when he stared at her, waiting for her to explain. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about telling him that she was pregnant. And with his current mood and the conversation they were having, it probably wasn’t the best time to blurt out the news of the pregnancy.
“I handled him,” Violet said, “just like Rus showed me how to.”
Kaz relaxed—barely, though—at her admission. It wasn’t like she needed to further explain the statement about Ruslan, as her brother-in-law had only really taught her one thing—how to use a damn gun.
“I assume that went over well,” Kaz muttered heavily.
Violet actually thought it had gone well. “He hasn’t come back.”
“He will.”
“I don’t think so—not anytime soon,” she replied.
Kaz shook his head. “Violet, you know as well as I do that your father isn’t the kind of man to just give up something he wants.”
“But I don’t want him. And he knows that now.”
Grabbing a straw, Violet stuck it in the top of the water bottle and pushed out of the chair, strolling over to offer the drink to Kaz. He took it, looking unhappy the whole goddamn time he sucked from the straw.
“Sullen is a cute look on you,” Violet told him, grinning.
Kaz sighed. “I’m not sullen. I’m sick of being in this bed.”
“You should use your pen and pad.”
“I can talk.”
“But it hurts,” she said.
Kaz scowled again. “Compromise, yes? That’s what marriage is supposed to be about.”
Violet didn’t see how that had anything to do with making Kaz follow the doctor’s orders, but she still shrugged and let him go on.
“I’ll drop the attitude if you drop the nagging,” Kaz said.
She almost felt offended.
Almost.
Except she had hovered, and fretted, and worried.
For every moment he wasn’t awake, and then again when he was. It never ended. Kaz wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely kind of person, either, yet he had nurses and doctors coming in and out of his room all the fucking time checking him or doing some test or another.
He was probably going stir-crazy.
“You know,” Violet said, offering the bottle of water for him to take another drink, “I’m surprised you haven’t had a fit on someone yet.”
“Give it time, krasivaya. It could still happen.”
“I’ll lay off the nagging.”
Kaz smirked. “Thank you.”
“And?”
“I’ll be less difficult.”
Violet tried not to laugh and failed miserably as she took her chair again on the other side of the room. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“I chose to amend it. Boss’s right, no?”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“You married me,” he said with a grin.
“Use your pad and pen for a bit. Your voice is worse.”
Kaz didn’t bother to hide his displeasure as he reached for the items. As he began to scribble something on the pad, Violet used his distraction to grab the bottle she’d been looking for earlier inside her purse. Popping open the top, she tipped one of the large pink pills into her palm, tossed it in her mouth, and took a swig of water to help wash it back.
The goddamn things were horse pills.
But necessary.
“What was that?” Kaz asked.
Violet looked up from her purse to see her husband watching her. “Pad and pen.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“You have them for a reason, Kaz.”
He swiftly scribbled the exact question he asked, turning the pad for her to see, and giving her one of his looks that said he wasn’t in the mood for nonsense.
“Vitamins,” Violet said.
Kaz shook his head and scribbled down something else before showing her what he’d written. For what?
Well …
No one was around.
He was awake.
His mood was better.
Violet still couldn’t bring herself to say the words that had been right on the tip of her tongue from the very moment she knew for sure that she was pregnant.
So Violet tossed the pink and white bottle across the room, letting it land on Kaz’s hospital bed. He wasn’t a stupid man. He would know what they were, or if not, he would figure it out what with words like prenatal on the front of the bottle in big, block letters.
She heard the bottle rattle as he snatched it up, but she kept her gaze on the sliding glass doors of the room, wanting a distraction.
The silence stretched on for longer than she thought it would.
A lot longer.
Then, she heard it … the scratch of the pen against paper, and the tap of his fingers against the pad to draw her attention back to him.
Violet focused on the paper instead of Kaz’s expression, nerves working a fast beat in her stomach. She wasn’t sure how he’d feel about the pregnancy, but it was what it was.
The pad only had one word written across it: Pregnant?
Maybe she shouldn’t have worried as much as she had—he was smiling, even if it was slight and small like he was still mulling over what that meant and how things would change.
Because things would change.
Babies did that to people.
Violet shrugged. “Six weeks, seven tomorrow.”
Kaz’s attention dropped back to the pad as he turned it over on his lap, tore out the paper, and wrote something new.
Sorry, it read.
Violet frowned. “For what?”
Kaz’s smile grew a little more sinful. “Attitude.”
“No talking.”
“No nagging. Compromise, Violet.”
Well, how exactly could she argue with him?
It would defeat the whole purpose of keeping him quiet.
“When?” Kaz asked.
Violet didn’t ask him to elaborate, already knowing what he meant. “I thought maybe it was a possibility after I talked with the doctor at the new house, but I knew for sure a couple of days after the … accident.”
Kaz’s smile bled away. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t think he was apologizing for his attitude that time. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Kaz.”
He waved at the hospital room and then himself.
“Don’t I?”