Pakhan's Rose (Pakhan #1)(6)

It was a lie I regretted, judging by the stormy expression on my dad's face. "Yes, that's me. Well, thank you for your information," I said too cheerily, hoping she'd drop the subject. Her gaze lingered on my dad, who seemed oblivious to attention. Although, I damn well knew he hadn't stayed a saint since Mom's death.

The minute she left our side, he opened his mouth, probably to scold me or something, but I raised my hand and he stopped to listen. "First, I'll go check on Sapphire and the rest. Next, you can give me a lecture about never, ever being with Dom, okay?"

He lifted his eyebrow. "Don't think I like this cocky attitude."

Rolling my eyes, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and winked. "Get used to it." Without waiting for his reply, because he would have plenty to say, I darted to Damian's room, which thankfully was on the same floor at the far end of the hospital.

The picture I saw there made my heart melt. Leaning on the doorjamb, I allowed myself a few moments to enjoy it.

Damian lay on the bed, various wires attached to his body and a mask over his mouth. His leg had a cast. The machine beeped with each thump of his heart. The growly man seemed so out of place in the hospital gown, but somehow, he managed to make even it look manly. Sapphire rested against his shoulder, hiding her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck while his hand subconsciously hugged her. Kristina occupied the blue chair in the corner with a blanket spread over her body as she slept soundly, her chest rising and falling in even breathing. 

Watching them in that moment, jealousy stirred inside me despite how bad it sounded. Who wouldn't want to have a man who loved you as much as Damian loved her?

Damian Scott, aka Sociopath, was one of the most notorious and ruthless killers in the States. He'd sent an email to his victims with one word, Sociopath, and they'd know the end was coming. No one knew where he kidnapped them or what he did to them, but it wasn't hard to guess by the remains they'd found. No one could catch him or figure out who he was, and more importantly, no one understood his sick desires. He killed respectable men of society, family men who adored their children, and who were perfect husbands.

On the surface, that was the truth, but deep down …  He punished all those who were involved in child prostitution, avenging his dead twin, Dominic, in the process. His main goal was to destroy the organization Sapphire's father ran, and he succeeded until he met her. According to what she told me, their connection was instant, and he became obsessed with her. However, her dad supposedly killed him on the edge of the cliff, and to the world, that was the end of it. Sapphire moved into the WPP, gave birth to their daughter, and learned to live again.

What she hadn't known was that I saved Damian, and he was alive.

"Your man is in the other room, honey." A gentle voice interrupted my thoughts. I shifted my eyes to the nurse, who patted me on the back. "You're probably worried about him. Come on." Without giving me a chance to explain, and really, what could I say? I didn't want this nice woman to think I was a liar. She took me a few steps away, and we ended up in another room almost identical to Damian's, except the bed was occupied by only one man with his hands bandaged.

My breath hitched as I studied his rugged features, his silky, black hair under the hospital cap, and the five o'clock shadow my hands itched to touch.

"You both have handsome men." She winked at me and then pointed at the clock on the wall. "Take your time, sweetie. I'll be back in an hour." With one last pat on the back, she left me standing alone in the middle of the room, feeling like a fool.

He seemed so freaking alone in this world, and I knew some of the things he had endured with Damian, but not all of them. I suspected Damian shared all of it with Sapphire, but she was his woman. He hated going back in time, down memory lane, and I couldn't blame him.

Did Dominic have nightmares too?

Did he sometimes zone out?

Did he have a raging inferno inside his heart that demanded justice for himself and his twin?

And more importantly, how did he manage to escape when everyone thought he was dead and become the pakhan of the Russian Bratva.

Taking a few tentative steps to him, my hand almost touched his chest when his eyes snapped open, and for a second, our gazes clashed, his fiercely possessive and mine surprised. He mumbled something, but then he was out again.

It was enough, however, to wake me up and to understand I was stepping on a dangerous line.

Dominic Konstantinov was not the man for me.

Never. Never.



Dominic

I sprang awake with a loud gasp as paralyzing pain pinned me on the bed. My nose filled with antiseptic smells as I noticed my left arm was strapped to an IV drip. Motherfucker! Holy fucking shit, my hands hurt like hell.

What the ever-loving fuck was going on?

My eyes adjusted to the bright light, allowing me to see my surroundings. I was in a private room in the hospital, with one chair in the corner and a TV on the wall. It was a rather modest room, if you asked me, but then again, when I did end up in hospitals, they usually had VIP rooms ready for me in advance.



       
         
       
        

What the fuck happened to me? The last thing I remembered was getting us out of the fire and passing out on some grass that tickled my nose.

Ignoring the pain this time, I pushed up and noticed my hands were covered in bandages. I furrowed my brows in confusion. I wasn't injured, so why would I even be in the room?

"You have second-degree burns on both of them. Some of it was painful to look at, really. You'll have scars, man, not to mention the smoke you inhaled," Vitya said from the doorway, as he stood there with Michael, both of them holding coffee mugs in their hands and wearing grim expressions. "Maybe those will teach you to actually include your family in your business next time you have a death wish." His voice was harsh and full of anger. S was an unpredictable killer and a sociopath, so endangering more people than necessary was out of the question. We both knew he would get no comment from me, so I focused on the information he had given me first.

I shrugged. "Won't be my first scar." Michael came inside, patted my arm, and sat down on the chair. Vitya kept glaring and just rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, babe, let it go. We all know how these things usually go."

Babe? Clearly, being in the States changed how freely they felt about displaying their relationship. "At least tell me you had a good fucking reason to exclude me?" Vitya continued.

I held his eyes with mine, as I steadily replied, "Yes." After a beat, he nodded and joined Michael in the chair by lifting him up and settling him on his lap. "So …  how long am I stuck here?" I always hated hospitals, useless waste of time unless you had some serious injuries, and second-degree burns on my hands weren't something I considered serious.

Michael snorted. "They want to keep you for a week."

"I'm not staying here for a week," I growled, as they both lifted their eyebrows.

"Tell that to those doctors. We wanted to take you back to Russia immediately. Anton came here last night, but that Connor guy who thinks he is the king of the fucking world"-Michael's accent thickened when he was annoyed-"wouldn't let us. Said you had some unfinished business here. That true?"

I rested my head against the headboard. "Yeah." Closing my eyes for a second, the memories of seeing my brother for the first time came back and a familiar longing settled in my gut. I wanted nothing more than to go to him, see how he was, and have a conversation about our life.

However, I knew the risks I took when I agreed to endanger Kristina in this plan. One thing Damian never forgave was a betrayal, so a warm reunion   with my brother was out of the question, but we still had unfinished business. "Where are those motherfuckers?" 

"In FBI custody." My lips lifted in a half smile at the idea of the pain they would soon experience. The state could fucking have them to rot in prison, but not until we got our fill first.

"Good." To fully inflict what we always wanted on them, we both needed to heal, and even though Damian would hate my guts once he woke up, he'd never pass up the opportunity to get his final revenge.

Once it was done, I could go back to my useless existence in Russia with the knowledge that some broken things couldn't be mended.

Vitya cleared his throat, which made me frown, and I snapped my eyes open. "What?" Both of them had their attention on the door with their brows raised in disbelief. My head automatically turned as my body tensed.

Rosa stood there, wearing some kind of silky red dress, her dark hair in a ponytail, her eyes wide with shock. She held my cross in her hands, the one I had given her right before I left her at the park and rushed into the car to save Damian. Her eyes kept on blinking rapidly. "Well, hello," Michael said, amused.

Rosa ignored him. Then after a few seconds, she took a few steps toward the bed and stopped right in front of me. She lifted her hand and softly touched my cheek as her eyes roamed over my body and face in wonder. She frowned, noticing my bandages, and she asked softly, "Does it hurt?"

I gulped, too shocked at her presence and caress to answer, so I just shook my head in denial.