Tears streaming down my face, I sit in a private room in the London Hospital. I’m covered in blood. Not my blood, but hers. Victoria, my wife’s. Every nerve in my body has been screaming no! since she crumpled into my arms. I feel cold… so very cold, and there’s a sickening sensation in my stomach.

Why the fuck did she have to come home unexpectedly? It should be me in surgery, should be me who took a bullet in the abdomen. Too fast for her to duck, too fast for my bodyguard, Tom, to react, too fast for me to step in front of her. Tom killed the assassin within seconds, but it was too late for her.

All through the ambulance ride here, I held her hand and begged her not to leave me. She was conscious… but sweating, breathing hard and groaning in pain. I saw the look in the paramedics’ eyes; it would be touch and go. It was all I could do not to break down in front of them.

I place my head in my hands, guilt ripping through me. I’ve been fucking complacent, fucking arrogant to think I could get away with what I did. Those bastards had it coming to them, and I thought I’d set up enough protection around myself, my wife and my son. Turns out I was mistaken. What a shit awful way to find that out…

My son! Thank God his nanny took him to Victoria’s mother for the afternoon. The police went there straight away to set up a round-the-clock guard. But I won’t rest easy until I have him with me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. First things first, though. Victoria needs to pull through. Then we’ll go somewhere safe, somewhere they’ll never think of looking.

What about Victoria? How will she cope if she can’t shop at Harrods or lunch with her girlfriends?

She’s not that shallow; I’ll help her adapt. She’ll do it for me and she’ll do it for our son.

The door to the hospital room swings open, and I jump to my feet. There’s a policeman guarding the corridor outside with Tom. Who the fuck have they let through?

“Oh, Alexei…”

Alexei, my given name.

I open my arms to Diana, Victoria’s mother. “I’m so sorry.” What else can I say? She doesn’t know the half of it…

We sit on uncomfortable plastic chairs, surrounded by sterile white walls. Diana shoots me an accusing look. “I should never have let her marry you.”

I don’t grace her remark with a reply. No point in reminding her about how she gushed with enthusiasm when Victoria and I announced our engagement. Diana was a widow; her husband had died of a heart attack and had left her with a pile of debts. Victoria’s marrying into a Russian oligarch family meant Diana would never have to worry about money again. My father was more than generous settling her bills and setting up a trust fund.

“Is Leo alright?” I ask, referring to my son.

“He’s fine,” she sighs. “He’s too young to understand, fortunately.”

My heart thudding, I stare at the clock, watching the minutes ticking by. Diana starts to sob, and I put my arm around her. Guilt and worry are tearing my heart into pieces, the lump in my throat blocking my tears.

After what seems like hours, the door swings open again, and a white-coated doctor comes into the room. “Mr Sokolov, your wife is out of surgery. She’s in intensive care.”

Diana jumps to her feet. “Can we see her?”

“Only her next-of-kin.” The doctor indicates toward me.

Diana puffs herself up. “I’m her mother.”

“You may see her after Mr Sokolov. One person at a time.”

I follow the doctor to the trauma ward. Victoria is hooked up to more machines than I would have thought possible. There’s a tube down her throat. IVs run through her arms, and there’s another tube coming out of her stomach. Her face is pale, and she’s lying incredibly still.

“Jesus,” I mutter. “Will she pull through?” I hear the pain in my words, but I choke the emotion back down… I’ve got to be strong.

“The next twenty-four hours will be critical. She’s lost a lot of blood, and the internal damage is extensive. We removed the bullet. Fortunately, it just missed her liver. Did you know your wife was pregnant?”

Was pregnant. God, has she lost the baby? Agony like I’ve never felt before rips through me.

“I didn’t know.”

“She’s lost the baby,” the doctor confirms.

“Christ…” I stare at the doctor. “Is it okay if I touch her?”

He nods.

I stand by her bed and take her hand in mine. “Hey, Victoria. I’m so sorry.” I suck in a sharp breath. “Please, darling, I want you to fight for me. And for Leo. We both need you so much.” I bend and kiss her forehead, tears spilling from my eyes and running onto her cold cheeks.

“Mr Sokolov,” the doctor places his hand on my arm. “Might I suggest you go home, have a shower and change. You are welcome to return here whenever you want.”

I glance down at my blood-splattered clothes. “Will Victoria be alright? I mean while I’m gone…”

“Mrs Sokolov is stable, for now. Of course, there is a risk she could relapse at any minute. She’s still under the effects of the anaesthetic and we’ve given her morphine for the pain. Her mother can sit with her until you return. We’ll call you if there’s any change.”

I’m torn between my wife and my son. Victoria doesn’t even know that I’m here, though, but Leo might be scared. I need to see him and reassure him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I make a quick stop at our townhouse in Chelsea, Tom guarding my every movement. After the fastest shower of my life, I change into a clean pair of slacks and a white cotton shirt. I stare at my face in the mirror and decide there isn’t time for a shave. Dark stubble covers my upper lip, my cheeks and my chin, and my eyes are filled with angst. Fuck, I look like shit. I’m an ugly bastard at the best of times, and this isn’t the best of times.

* * *

“Daddy,” Leo glances up from his wooden train set, the tracks spread across the wall-to-wall carpeting in Diana’s Knightsbridge living room. His smile melts me, and I scoop him into my arms. God, he smells good. Talcum powder and baby wipes; he hasn’t been potty-trained yet on account being only two-years-old. I swing him over my head, loving his innocent laughter.

Jesus, let him keep that innocence.

Let his mother live.

Let us be a family.

“Where’s Mama?” he asks as I put him down.

“Mama isn’t feeling well. She’s resting in the hospital, but she sends you her love,” I lie blatantly. “We want you to stay here at Granny’s for a few days.” I give him a hug. “I have to go now, but I’ll come and see you tomorrow. Okay?”

I’ll protect you, Leo, I say to myself. I’ll always protect you. I’ve let you down, but I’ll never do it again.

Leo’s attention is already distracted by his wooden train. I bend to kiss him on the cheek.

Claire, his nanny, accompanies me to the front door. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” she asks.

Claire trained at Norland’s, the exclusive nanny training school, and is the epitome of discretion. She’s in her mid-twenties, a mousey-looking girl who’s great at her job. I owe her an explanation, but now is not the right time. “I’ll fill you in later, alright? Victoria is in intensive care. I need to be with her.”

Claire’s eyes ask the question she doesn’t voice. I rub the back of my neck. How the fuck do I know if my wife will pull through or not? Fear is making my hands feel clammy and my shoulders are tight. There’s a searing pain in my chest.

What if Victoria has died without me being there to hold her hand?

Fuck, I’ve got to get back to the hospital.

Tom is waiting outside with the armed policeman guarding Diana’s door. I’d parked my Audi out front. “Please hurry,” I say, climbing into the driver’s seat.

* * *

I sit in the uncomfortable hospital chair, watching my wife’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall. She’s holding her own, the intensive care nurse said after I’d got back here and relieved Diana. But the nurse also reminded me that the next twenty-four hours would be critical.

I lean forward and place my head in my hands; it’s become my default mode. So much has changed in such a short time. I should be used to that, I suppose. I mean, only six months ago I lost my parents when their car skidded off a bridge into a ravine. Shortly afterwards, my brother Gleb returned to Russia… the homeland we’d left when he was eleven and I was nine years-old. Those changes led me to take the actions which have placed my wife and son in danger. If only I could turn back the clock, I wouldn’t have been so reckless…

Last night, Victoria gave me ‘the look’, her signal that she wanted sex. Sex is the glue that holds us together. I’d like to say it’s our son, but Victoria has never been a natural mother. She’d rather go shopping than play with Leo, I think. Thankfully, Claire has filled the gap. Victoria loves Leo, I know she does; she just doesn’t handle motherhood well. It’s my firm belief she’ll come into her own when he’s older… when he’s into clothes, music, the latest technological gadgets, and so on.

It was Victoria who suggested we should try for another baby; I’d never have forced it on her. She knows how much I love fatherhood. Tears roll from my eyes as I think about what’s happened. Did she come home unexpectedly today to tell me she was pregnant? I reach across and hold her hand.

Sex between us has always been rough. Victoria likes me to dominate her, and I love that. Toys make a regular appearance in our lovemaking sessions. My cock throbs as I think about them, despite my fear for her life. Last night I blindfolded her, gagged her, and then I tied her spread-eagled to the four bedposts. I collared her, fastened the clamps to her nipples and drove her mad with a vibrator against her clit before plunging it into her. Watching her face as she came gave me such pleasure. I held her close after removing the toys, soothing her as she came down from her endorphin high. Our subsequent lovemaking was slow and sensual as we took each other to the brink, our mutual release an explosion of breath-taking ecstasy.

Without warning, Victoria’s hand jerks out of mine. Fuck! Her whole body has started to convulse. Shit, she’s fitting. The machine monitoring her emits a loud beeping sound. Within seconds the crash team has arrived, and I’m being hustled out of the room.

I wait in the corridor, and I know, I just know without being told, that this nightmare is about to get a million times worse.