Till Death Saves Me (Forced Mafia Marriages)

28. Ivan

28

IVAN

I grit my teeth as the medic prods at my shoulder. The local anesthetic hasn't fully kicked in yet, and every touch sends jolts of pain through my body. But I barely register it. My mind is consumed by one thought: Virginia.

"Dmitry," I bark, my voice rough with tension. The young soldier snaps to attention. "Go to the house. Bring my wife here. Now."

He hesitates for a split second, glancing at my half-stitched wound. I fix him with a glare that could melt steel. "Did I fucking stutter?"

Dmitry pales and shakes his head. "No, sir. Right away, sir." He bolts from the room, and I allow myself a small sigh of relief.

The minutes crawl by as the medic works. Each second feels like an eternity. I tap my foot impatiently, earning a reproachful look from the man stitching me up. I don't give a shit. Let him be annoyed.

My mind races with images of Virginia. Is she okay? Did the safe room hold? What if something went wrong? What if-

I cut off that line of thought. No. She's fine. She has to be.

As people filter into the warehouse, I jerk my head up, ignoring the medic's protests. But it's just another soldier, coming to get patched up. I slump back, frustration and worry gnawing at my gut.

Where the fuck is she?

I strain my ears, listening for the sound of her voice, her footsteps. Nothing. Just the ambient noise of the warehouse and the medic's steady breathing as he works.

My fingers dig into the edge of the exam table, knuckles white with tension. Every muscle in my body is coiled tight, ready to spring into action the moment I hear her.

"Almost done," the medic murmurs, but I barely hear him. My entire being is focused on the door, willing it to open, willing Virginia to walk through it.

The seconds tick by, each one an agony of anticipation. Where is she? What's taking so long?

Just as I'm about to lose it, to jump off this table and go find her myself, I hear it. Footsteps. Voices. And then, like a balm to my soul, her voice.

"Ivan? Ivan!"

The moment I hear her voice, my world rights itself. I struggle to sit up, ignoring the medic's protests and the sharp pain in my shoulder. My eyes lock onto the door, and then she's there.

Virginia bursts into the room, her eyes wild with worry. Her hair is disheveled, her clothes rumpled - clear signs of her frantic rush to get here. But to me, she's never looked more beautiful.

"Ivan!" she cries, her voice breaking on my name.

I reach for her with my good arm, and she's in my embrace before I can blink. The warmth of her body against mine, the softness of her skin, the familiar scent of vanilla - it all washes over me in a tidal wave of relief.

I bury my face in her hair, inhaling deeply. My fingers dig into her back, probably too hard, but I can't bring myself to loosen my grip. She's here. She's safe. She's in my arms.

"Virginia," I murmur, my voice rough with emotion. "Malyshka."

She pulls back slightly, her hands cupping my face. Her eyes search mine, filled with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. "You're hurt," she whispers, her gaze dropping to my bandaged shoulder.

I shake my head, dismissing her concern. "It's nothing. You're here. That's all that matters."

A tear slips down her cheek, and I brush it away with my thumb. The simple act of touching her, of feeling her warm skin beneath my fingers, sends a jolt through me. It's like I'm touching her for the first time all over again.

"I was so scared," she admits, her voice barely audible. "When you locked me in that room... I thought... I thought I might never see you again."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I pull her close again, pressing my lips to her forehead. "I'm sorry," I murmur against her skin. "I had to keep you safe. I couldn't... I can't lose you, Virginia."

She melts into me, her body molding to mine as if we were two pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place. I feel her tears dampening my shirt, but I don't care. All that matters is that she's here, she's safe, and she's in my arms.

We stay like that until the medic is done. They force me to drink some water, making sure I'm fine as I stand up. Lev spots me and gives me a nod, so I know I can leave. I pull Virginia with me through the chaos to where Dmitry is waiting with a car.

I settle into the backseat, wincing as the movement jostles my injured shoulder. Virginia slides in next to me, her eyes never leaving my face. The moment the door closes, she's on me, her hands fluttering over my body like anxious butterflies.

"Are you sure you're okay? Does it hurt? Maybe we should go to the hospital instead," she frets, her fingers ghosting over my bandaged shoulder.

I catch her hand, stilling her movements. "I'm fine, Virginia. Stop fussing."

But even as I say the words, I feel a warmth blooming in my chest. Her concern, so open and unguarded, stirs something deep within me. I've spent so long believing that no one truly cared about me beyond my usefulness to the Bratva. To see Virginia so worried, so invested in my well-being... It's both foreign and intoxicating.

She ignores my protest, leaning in to examine the bandage more closely. Her breath fans across my skin, making heat spread up through me that has nothing to do with pain. "I just want to make sure you're alright," she murmurs, her voice thick with emotion.

I can't help the words that slip out next, tinged with a vulnerability I rarely allow myself to show. "I didn't think you'd care if I got hurt."

It's soft, so quiet she could ignore it if she wanted to. If she isn't ready. I wouldn't blame her, not with the way I've acted toward her in the past.

I wouldn't blame her for stealing my heart and not giving me hers in return. I'd carve out my soul and let her take it, rip open my veins and bleed if she asked. I'd let her have anything and ask for nothing in return.

That's how fucking done I am when it comes this woman.

But then her head snaps up, and as I stare into her eyes, my heart pounds in my chest. "Of course I care," she says, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "How could you think I wouldn't care?" She shakes her head. "You stubborn ass. I love you, Ivan." Tears prick at her eyes. "I shouldn't, but I fucking love you."

For a moment, I can't breathe. The world narrows to just her face, those warm brown eyes looking at me with such tenderness it almost hurts. I've faced down death countless times, but nothing has ever terrified me as much as this moment.

I don't deserve her love. I know this. But God help me, I want it. I need it like I need air to breathe.

Without a word, I pull her to me, crushing my lips against hers. The kiss is desperate, hungry, filled with all the emotions I've been holding back for so long. My good hand tangles in her hair, holding her close as if she might disappear if I let go.

Virginia responds immediately, her lips parting under mine. She tastes like hope, like a future I never thought I'd have. Her hands clutch at my shirt, pulling me closer despite my injured shoulder.

I barely feel the pain. All I can focus on is her - the softness of her lips, the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the little whimper she makes in the back of her throat.

I pour everything into this kiss - my fears, my hopes, my love. Yes, love. I can admit it now, at least to myself. I love this woman with every fiber of my being. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

When we finally break apart, we're both panting. I rest my forehead against hers, my eyes closed as I try to catch my breath. "Virginia," I murmur, her name a prayer on my lips.

She reaches up, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "I love you," she says again, and this time I let myself believe it. "I love you, Ivan Kozlov, you stubborn, infuriating man."

A laugh bubbles up from my chest, surprising even me. I open my eyes to find her smiling at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love you too," I confess, the words feeling foreign on my tongue but so right. "More than I ever thought possible."