Uri’s jaw clenches hard. “Can the less-developed baby survive a premature delivery?”
Dr. Grigory really needs to work on his poker face, because the little cringe he gives Uri by way of an answer feels completely unprofessional and way too close to hopeless for my liking. “We’re going to do everything in our power to make sure they both survive.”
I fight back tears. “That wasn’t a yes.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t make any promises. All I can do is give you the best possible medical advice I can to ensure that both your babies are born healthy. And that includes admitting yourself today.”
I have whiplash from the abrupt turn this appointment has taken. Gulping, I whisper, “Uri, if this is what’s best for them…”
He closes his eyes and breathes. After a moment, the angry downward V of intensity etched into his forehead eases and disappears. “Of course. We’ll admit you. If that’s what the doctor thinks is best.”
I give him a shaky smile. “Thank you.”
He turns back to Grigory. “She is going to have twenty-four hour security.”
“The hospital is equipped with security staff, Uri.”
“I want my men on duty. They’re the only ones I can trust right now. Now. if you can give us a few minutes…”
The doctor bows out immediately and Uri turns his focus on me. “I know you’re worried, but it’s going to be okay.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re a great mother already. And you’re going to keep those babies safe inside you for as long as you can.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then Grigory will save them for us. Whatever happens, we’re leaving this hospital with two children.”
He’s so confident that it’s hard not to believe him. He just has the kind of presence, the kind of power that makes me believe he can move mountains. I grip his arms tightly, hoping that some of that confidence will rub off on me. “Uri… I’m scared.”
“I know,” he says gently. “But you can do this.”
I can do this. I can do this. I can—
My silent meditation is interrupted by Uri’s phone blowing up. He looks down at his lock screen and winces. Disappointment unfurls in my belly but I pretend that I’m alright.
“It’s okay,” I tell him before he says anything. “You can leave if you have to.”
His hand lingers on mine. “Nikolai’s just outside. He’ll stay with you while I’m gone, okay?”
I nod. “I’ll be safe.”
He presses a kiss to my forehead and strides out of the room. A few seconds later, Nikolai walks in. “Hey there. Heard you’ve checked into Chez Hospital for the next couple of weeks.”
I sigh. “Looks like it.”
“They’re getting a private room prepped for you in this ward. It should be ready in a couple of minutes.”
I get off the examination table and join him on the chairs in the corner of the room. “Thanks for staying with me.” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares at my face like there’s some puzzle hidden there. “What?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Didn’t you hear? I’m gonna be lucky to carry these babies to thirty weeks. And even if I do, they’ll still be premature and they’ll still need to be moved to the NICU until they can function on their own.”
Nikolai puts his hand on mine. “These babies are half you and half Bugrov,” he points out. “They can handle anything life throws at them. Even in utero.”
“You’re confident?”
“What’s the alternative—giving up?” he scoffs. “That’s not an option.”
I smile and sink back on the exam table. “I just… I can’t go through this again, Nikolai. When I lost my sister, I thought I’d used up my quota of pain. I can’t bear the thought of losing either one of these babies.”
“There’s no stopping the inevitable, Alyssa. All this stress doesn’t change the universe.”
“I can’t turn my brain off, and…” I glance at Nikolai out of the corner of my eye. “The truth is, I can’t really talk to Uri about any of this.”
“Why not?”
“Because every time I try, it’s like he’s not really listening. He throws tools at me. He wants me to do this and do that. If I say I’m scared, he wants to bulk up security. If I tell him I feel bad, he tries to get me medicine. If I tell him I’m depressed, he buys me presents. But I don’t need any of that stuff. I just need him to hear me.”
Nikolai sighs. “You have to understand, Alyssa: Uri is the fix-it guy. He can’t meet a problem without trying to solve it. The idea of just listening without taking any action is not in his DNA. He’s used to having control and this situation is not in his control. So he tries to compensate by doing stuff for you whenever he can. It makes it easier to ignore his own doubts, his own worries.”
Nikolai has a point. Of course this is just as hard for Uri as it is for me. But at least I have the luxury of falling apart when I need to.
He doesn’t.
Perhaps I should take my own advice and try to listen to Uri a little better. I’ve gotten so used to having him take care of my needs, that somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten he has his own.
“Thanks for talking to me, Nikolai. It’s like having a therapist and a friend all rolled into one. Except cheaper.”
Nikolai just gives me a reassuring smile. “Anytime,” he says softly. “Anytime.”
43
URI
I don’t trust anyone.
But sometimes, the appearance of trust goes a long way. Which is why I walk into the lobby of the Barrington Hotel unarmed and unaccompanied. Dimiv is sitting out in the foyer, sipping a vodka sour. But apart from him, I’m flying solo.
So, it appears, is Dominik Evanoff. The man is sallow-skinned and bone-thin, which makes him look like a weathered skeleton in an Armani suit. His blonde hair is slicked back with enough product to drown a horse in and he doesn’t even attempt to smile when I approach his table.
He does stand up and offer me his hand. “Mr. Bugrov.”
“Evanoff,” I nod, taking the seat opposite him. “It’s a pleasure to—”
“Dispense with the pleasantries, if you would, please. I’ve been in this game long enough to know that you don’t make friends in our line of work. You make allies or enemies. That’s it.”
I rub my chin. No small talk is fine by me. “Well, then let me cut to the chase. I would like us to be allies, Dominik.”
“I’m under no illusions as to who and what I am, Mr. Bugrov,” he says in that flat, emotionless drawl of his. “My Bratva is far from matching yours in scope and strength. Why would you want to be my ally?”
“Simple. Because you and I share a common enemy. And I’ve always believed that the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
He nods grimly. “My father believed the same thing.”
“This is the same father that Boris Sobakin murdered in cold blood?”
His lips curl into a grimace and his eyes turn cold. “So this is about Boris Sobakin?” Steepling his fingers, he leans forward. “Then I’m interested in hearing what you have to say.”