Page 93 of Bratva Bidder
His gaze drops, jaw clenching. “I think he was behind what happened in Barcelona. It was a message. A reminder that he owns me. That any happiness I find is temporary.”
I reach out instinctively, touching his hand. His fingers curl around mine immediately, gripping tightly—an anchor, a lifeline.
“Why stay?” I ask softly. “You’re strong enough to break away.”
He meets my eyes, and for the first time I see true fear there. “Because he destroys what I love. He destroyed my mother without a second thought. I can’t let him near you or the kids. I have to play by his rules, at least for now. Until I’m sure I can keep you safe.”
Emotion thickens my throat, hot tears prickling at my eyes. For the first time, I see past the power, past the ruthless facade, to the frightened boy he once was, and the man he’s desperately trying to become.
“I won’t let him near them, Konstantin,” I whisper fiercely. “We won’t.”
He squeezes my hand tighter, pulling me gently toward him. I let him, leaning into the solidity of his chest, inhaling the faint scent of rain and cologne and something uniquely him. It feels right, and terrifying.
We sit in quiet closeness, the silence easier now. Both of us broken by our pasts, cautiously reaching toward a shared future—one we’re both desperately hoping won’t shatter beneath our fingertips.
“We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, resting his chin softly atop my head.
And for the first time, wrapped in the quiet safety of his embrace, I believe we just might.
We return to the hospital in silence, Nikolai’s medication records clutched tightly in my hand, Konstantin’s careful presence at my side still feeling strangely comforting. I neverimagined bringing him into my world—their world—could ever feel safe. And yet something inside me softens, just a little, as I watch him navigate the careful steps of being a father.
We enter the hospital quietly, and I head straight to Nikolai’s room, while Konstantin pauses in the hallway when he spots Dr. Rhodes quietly discussing Nikolai’s charts with Dr. Halberd, Nikolai’s regular doctor. I slow my pace, lingering just behind the open door, curious despite myself.
“Dr. Rhodes, Dr. Halberd,” Konstantin begins, his tone carefully controlled. “Can I have a word?”
“Of course,” Dr. Rhodes replies evenly, though I can sense the cautious edge in his voice.
“I appreciate what you’re both doing for my son,” Konstantin continues, his voice quiet, measured, genuinely humble in a way I hadn’t expected. “And I realize bringing you in abruptly, Dr. Rhodes, without consulting Dr. Halberd first, was…impulsive. My intentions were good, but my method wasn’t. For that, I apologize.”
My lips part slightly. Konstantin apologizing—no threats, no intimidation? This isn’t the man I thought I knew.
Dr. Halberd adjusts his glasses, looking skeptical but attentive. “Mr. Konstantin, I’ve been Nikolai’s physician since his diagnosis. I understand your urgency, but his case is complex?—”
“I understand that now,” Konstantin cuts in gently. “Which is why I’m asking you to collaborate. Nikolai deserves the best care, and both of you are excellent doctors. I’m not here to throw around power. I’m asking you—as a father—to please help my son, together.”
A silence follows, thick and thoughtful. Then Dr. Halberd exchanges a brief glance with Dr. Rhodes, both men silently weighing the sincerity of Konstantin’s plea.
Finally, Dr. Rhodes nods slowly. “I agree. Combining our experience will provide Nikolai with the most effective treatment.”
“Agreed,” Dr. Halberd says softly. “I appreciate your honesty, Mr. Konstantin. We’ll work together.”
Konstantin’s quiet relief is palpable even from here. “Thank you,” he says simply.
I step back quickly, heart pounding. When Konstantin enters Nikolai’s room a few moments later, his expression remains neutral, but his gaze finds mine immediately.
“You heard?” he murmurs.
I glance away, embarrassed but grateful. “Yes. Thank you.”
He gives a slight nod, looking faintly uncomfortable with my gratitude but accepting it all the same.
Half an hour later, Dr. Rhodes and Dr. Halberd rejoin us. They’ve been speaking quietly, comparing notes and medication dosages. Eventually, Dr. Rhodes addresses us both, his demeanor reassuring.
“Nikolai’s stable now. We’ve adjusted his medications to better manage his symptoms and keep his heart steady. You can take him home tonight, under careful supervision.”
My heart swells, overwhelmed. “Really?”
Dr. Halberd smiles warmly. “You’ve always handled his care meticulously, Nadya. With Dr. Rhodes’s input, we’re confidentNikolai is in excellent hands. And with Mr. Konstantin involved now, he’ll have even greater support.”
