Mafia King’s Bride

27. Ana

TWENTY-SEVEN

ANA

Why does it feel like someone dropped a piano on my head?

I slowly open my eyes, only to be stabbed by the brightest, most sterile light. It’s like my retinas have signed up for an all-out assault, and the pounding in my skull doubles. I blink, groaning as I try to gather my bearings.

Where the hell am I?

There’s an obnoxious beeping sound, and somewhere nearby, I hear a voice—familiar, distant. It’s muffled, like when you’re dreaming and someone tries to talk to you in real life. But I’m too busy figuring out why I feel like I got steamrolled.

As my vision clears, I realize I’m in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines like some sci-fi experiment.

“Ana?”

Dmitri. The voice snaps into focus, and I turn my head toward him. Well, try to. My entire body revolts, screaming in protest as pain shoots through every muscle.

“ Kotyonok ,” he says softly, taking my hand in his. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

“What…?” My voice is barely a croak, and even that hurts. “What happened?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Dmitri explains, his voice as gentle as I’ve ever heard it. “You fainted. Covered in bruises, too.” His Adam’s apple bobs thickly as he swallows. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen to you.”

The memories hit me like a sledgehammer. Flashes of a car pulling up, something rough being shoved over my face, struggling to break free, darkness, voices I didn’t recognize.

Bianchi.

I sit up—big mistake—and gasp as the pain punches me right in the skull. “Bianchi,” I wheeze, clutching my head. “He...he kidnapped me. He said he was going to kill you.”

Dmitri’s face tightens, dark rage swirling behind his eyes. I can tell he’s keeping it together, but just barely. “I found you,” he says, his voice low. “That’s all that matters now.”

“You . . . found me.” My brain catches up. “Bianchi?”

“He’s dead.” The words are cold, final. No emotion.

I blink, staring at him. “Did . . . did you kill him?”

“Yes.” His answer is simple, but the weight behind it isn’t. “And I’m going to find whoever helped him. They’ll pay the same price.”

The way he says it—no hesitation, no doubt—should terrify me. But right now, I’m too tired, too sore to care. And honestly, after what I went through, I’m willing to let him rain down some vengeance on whoever put me in this bed.

Dmitri leans forward, guilt written all over his face. His shoulders slump, and for the first time, I see regret clouding his usually unshakable demeanor. “I should’ve protected you better, Ana. If I hadn’t called off my men who were tailing you?—”

I cut him off, squeezing his hand. “It’s not your fault,” I rasp, feeling a flicker of sympathy for him. The fact that he feels this guilty over something that clearly wasn’t in his control hits me in ways I’m not prepared for.

A tiny smile tugs at my lips, despite the pain. “I told Bianchi you were coming for him. Told him he’d regret touching Dmitri Orlov’s wife.” I give a little snort, wincing as the movement hurts my head. “And look, I was right.”

Dmitri chuckles, shaking his head. “Only you, kotyonok , would laugh in the face of this.”

“Learned from the best,” I tease. “You’re the infamous Orlov, after all. I’m just channeling some of that energy.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing my forehead softly. The warmth of his breath, the tenderness of his touch—God, it feels like a balm to the ache in my chest, and not just the physical one.

“Anastasia,” he says quietly, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering on my skin. “You’re my love, Ana. I never thought I could feel this much, or that I could change. But you...you’re like a storm, breaking through every barrier I’ve built.”

Wait. What?

Come again?

I blink. Twice. I think I must have just hallucinated. “What did you just say?”

He smirks. “You heard me.”

“No, no.” I shake my head, feeling my heart do this ridiculous somersault thing. “Say it again. Because there’s no way you said?—”

“I love you, Anastasia.” His voice is low, sure, unwavering. “I love you, kotyonok .”

Oh, wow. This is happening. Dmitri Orlov just said he loves me. Me.

The hospital monitor beeps wildly, probably catching on to the fact that my heart is about to explode.

“Relax, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Dmitri grins, clearly enjoying my stunned silence. “Maybe I should wait until you’re feeling better to drop life-changing confessions.”

“Don’t you dare.” I narrow my eyes, half-laughing, half-panicking. “You said it. No taking it back.”

His lips curl into a smirk. “You’re impossible.”

“You love me,” I counter, my voice wobbling as I point a finger at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” His smirk softens into something warmer. He leans down, pressing his lips to mine, just a soft, quick kiss, but it short-circuits my entire brain.

Oh, I am so screwed.

“That’s for staying strong until I found you,” he murmurs against my lips before kissing my forehead again.

“If this is what it takes for you to?—”

His finger presses gently against my lips. “Don’t. I’m not letting this happen again. I’ll make sure you’re protected, always. Two men stationed at your door, security reinstated. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

I roll my eyes. “There are worse things out there than kidnappers, Dmitri.”

He nods, deadly serious. “Exactly. And I’ll make sure none of them touch you.”

I can’t help but laugh, though it comes out weak. “You do realize I grew up in the Bratva, right? My father taught me how to handle a gun when I was ten. I’m not exactly a damsel in distress.”

His smile is soft, but there’s something in his eyes that says he’ll never stop protecting me. “I know. But you’re my wife, and I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

Well, there’s no arguing with that. He always gets the last word, anyway. “Fine,” I sigh. “I guess I could use a bodyguard or two.”

Before either of us can say anything else, the phone rings.

And just like that, life barges back in. “I’ve got to take this,” Dmitri says as he stands up. “I might need to leave the hospital for a while, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

As he walks away, I sigh and close my eyes. I just hope he’s safe.

I open my eyes again, blinking against the hospital’s harsh, white lights. The steady beeping of the machines, the smell of antiseptic—yep, I’m still here. My body protests as I shift slightly, everything feeling heavier than it should. But before I can fully process anything, there’s a loud pop that nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

I whip my head around, almost giving myself whiplash, only to see Viktor standing there with a ridiculous bouquet and an army of balloons.

“Welcome to the land of the living.” He grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sorry about that. One of the balloons popped.”

I sigh, trying not to laugh, and watch as he awkwardly ties the balloons to the bedpost, the roses unceremoniously dropped on the bedside table.

“Hey, sis,” he says, pulling me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. “How do you feel?”

“Oh, you know,” I groan dramatically. “Like death warmed over. How did you know I was here?”

Viktor’s expression darkens instantly, his usual lighthearted demeanor clouded with irritation. “It’s not hard to find out which hospital your sister was admitted to when you hear that her husband let her get kidnapped by some Italian lunatic.” His gaze darts around the room. “Where’s Dmitri?”

Oh no. I can already sense the storm brewing.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I blurt, grabbing his wrist before he can fully channel his rage. The last thing I need right now is my overprotective brother going head-to-head with my husband.

Viktor sneers. “Not his fault? Like hell, it wasn’t. He created the mess, and you’re the one who got caught in it. You could have been killed!”

I sigh, my patience wearing thin. “Dmitri saved me.”

But Viktor’s not having it. “Saved you? He could’ve prevented it in the first place. Anastasia,” he says, softening slightly as he cups my face, “Orlov is bad news. I told Father when you married him that his enemies would become yours. And now look where you are. In a hospital bed.”

I mentally send a quick prayer to Dmitri: Please, wherever you are, do not walk in right now.

Because if Viktor sees him, there will be a brawl. No doubt about it.

Viktor takes a deep breath, gripping my hand. “That’s why I came back,” he says, his voice softer now, more earnest. “I came for you, Ana. I’m willing to pay whatever price Nikolai Petrov put on your head to free you from that brute.”

I blink. “Price? Viktor, you’re talking about going to war.” My stomach drops as the weight of his words settles in.

He shrugs, like we’re talking about a minor inconvenience. “It might not come to that. I’m working with Father again, and I’m pretty sure I can convince him to let a few things slide in exchange for your divorce.”

Oh. Hell. No.

I shake my head vehemently. “You left this world for a reason, Viktor. Don’t you dare come crawling back into it because of me. I don’t need you getting tangled up in this mess.”

But his expression is as stubborn as ever, his jaw set in that infuriating way that tells me I’m not getting through to him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m my father’s son, just like you’re his daughter. But promise me something. Promise you’ll leave Dmitri. Get away from all this.”

And here it is. The moment I never thought I’d say aloud. I close my eyes for a second, steadying myself before the words tumble out. “I’m in love with him, Viktor. I love Dmitri.”

The look on his face is priceless. Shock, disbelief, a touch of horror. He stares at me like I’ve just grown a second head. “Did...did he threaten you?”

I groan, throwing my hands up. “Even if he did, why would I use ‘I love him’ as the excuse? I’m telling you, Viktor, Dmitri killed the man who kidnapped me. He promised to make everyone who had a hand in it pay.”

Viktor’s face hardens again, arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, to save face. You don’t think that’s convenient?”

I rub my temples, wincing at the pain but more at his thick-headedness. “Viktor Petrov, if you don’t stop acting like I don’t have a brain, I swear I’ll get out of this bed and smack you. I know what I’m saying. Dmitri loves me, and I love him. Period.”

He stares at me for a long beat, then finally sighs, standing up from the bed. “Fine. If you’re sure, I’ll let it be. But,” he raises a finger in warning, “if the day comes when he doesn’t save you, I’ll be the one to end him.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. My head is pounding, my body aching, and my brother is making grand threats.

Welcome to my life.

“Can I get some rest now, please?” I mutter, closing my eyes and sinking back into the pillow. “I just went through a life-or-death experience. I think I deserve a nap.”

Viktor chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Fine, fine. I’ll be outside making some calls. And don’t worry, nothing’s getting past the two hulks your husband stationed outside the door.”

Despite myself, a small smile tugs at my lips as I watch him leave. When the door finally closes, I fluff my pillow, sinking into the blessed quiet.

The men in my life are ridiculous—stubborn, hot-headed, and prone to making rash decisions—but I wouldn’t trade them for the world.