Chapter 26
Naomi
I ran my fingers over the ivory keys, keeping my touch light so I wouldn’t press them down. Had it really been just yesterday that Gavril had sat here, playing his songs for me?
It seemed like a lifetime ago, and now I wasn’t even sure I would ever hear him play again.
A shudder sliced through me and I rose from the stool, unable to sit still for a long period of time. The basement was the safest place for me, Oleg had stated. After all, bodies littered the mansion and its grounds, now being cleared away by the Bratva that was left.
It was a pitiful crew, no more than ten or twelve men, but they had come running the moment Oleg had let them know that their Pakhan was on death’s door. Even from my vantage point, I could hear them moving things upstairs and didn’t want to think about what would be left.
Vera was gone. I wouldn’t see her pinched face anymore or have her give me strength when it was least expected. I thought about our last conversation and how she had begged me not to give up hope that Gavril was going to come back alive.
I was in the same position now, but now the threat was real. Gavril was hanging on by a threat, having lost most of his body weight in blood, and for hours I had sat in the basement, waiting for word. Someone had been thoughtful enough to bring me a tray with water and a simple sandwich, but I was too nervous to eat or drink.
That and I still saw Gavril’s blood on my hands, even though I had cleaned up in the bathroom in the gym. The clothing I was wearing was also Gavril’s, the only thing that Oleg could find in a hurry.
Not that I minded. Gavril’s scent clung to the shirt and joggers, wrapping itself around me when I needed it most.
What if he didn’t make it? It was a real option, and though I wanted to cling to hope like Vera had demanded I do, I had to prepare for the worst as well. Even I knew what I had seen, and it was bad, like really bad.
If he didn’t survive, he had given me the plan. I was to go to Russia to join his family, and his mother would handle the Bratva.
Then what? Would I spend the rest of my days in that empty mansion, pining for the love that I had lost? Not that I would want to live, honestly. I would do so for our child, but to love again? That had been a one-time deal, unfortunately, for me.
Clenching my hands into fists, I turned away from the piano and walked out into the gym, noting that the sun was starting to fade into the distance. No one had come to update me in an hour or so, and the last update had been much of the same.
The doctor was doing all that he could. Oleg had explained to me that heads of Mafias didn’t go to the hospital, and I really should have known that myself.
Instead the hospital came to them. Oleg had called the doctor on Gavril’s payroll, a trauma surgeon who could handle just about anything, and apparently he’d brought the surgical suite with him. My bedroom had been transformed into an operating room, and I had barely caught my last glimpse of Gavril before I was shooed out and escorted down here to wait.
I hated this. I hated not knowing what was going on above my head or what shape Gavril was in. I should be by his side, urging him to fight for the future that we both needed.
“I don’t fucking care what you think!” I heard a familiar voice coming from the stairs. “You can go shove yourself through a wood chipper if you think that you are going to stop me!”
“Ilsa,” I heard Roman growl. “Remember, we are guests.”
“Well, they aren’t going to stop me,” Ilsa replied evenly before she popped around the corner, her words dying on her tongue as she saw me. “Oh, Naomi.”
Tears crowded my eyes as I rushed toward her, awkwardly hugging her even with her protruding belly. “How?”
“Do you really think they could stop me?” she asked, rubbing my back. “Roman was given a report just a little while ago. I’m sorry we weren’t here sooner.”
I couldn’t believe it. Roman had stepped onto his enemy’s territory so that he could bring Ilsa here to be with me. Pulling back, I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Thank you.”
Roman enveloped me in a big hug, his body warm. “You’re welcome. After all, you were there when Ilsa needed you the most. It’s only fitting that we are here for you.”
I pulled back, the tears coming in earnest now. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Ilsa replied, leading me over to a chair near the window. “When is the last time you ate?”
I shook my head, my stomach turning at the thought. “I can’t.”
“You will,” she interrupted, pushing the tray to me. “For the baby, Naomi, if nothing else.”
I grumbled as I picked up the simple sandwich, forcing myself to take small bites. It tasted like sawdust in my mouth, but I managed to get it down with the glass of water, which Ilsa filled once I had drained it. “Now,” she said, settling in the chair next to me with Roman leaning against the wall behind her, his eyes ever watchful for danger that would affect his pregnant wife. “Tell me everything.”
So I did. I told Ilsa about our plan and how it had backfired when Jon hadn’t taken the bait. I told her about him coming to the mansion and what Jon had tried to do before Gavril showed up and had been injured. “Jon is dead,” I finished, twisting my hands together in my lap. “I killed him.” Though I knew I should feel remorse for taking a life, I didn’t. Jon had done some horrible things to me and nearly killed my husband. He deserved what he had gotten.