Chapter 155 Anya
The hospital waiting room was cold and white and smelled of bleach.
I sat in a plastic chair, staring at the double doors where they had taken Nikolai. My hands were still stained with his blood. My dress was torn and dirty. I probably looked like a ghost. Or a madwoman.
Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. I could not tell anymore.
Nadia sat across from me, drinking coffee from a vending machine cup. Viktor paced by the window, his phone pressed to his ear, arranging things I did not care about.
"He will be fine," Nadia said. "The bullet missed the bone. He just lost a lot of blood."
"You do not know that."
"I read the doctor's report. He is out of surgery. He is stable. He is going to live."
I wanted to believe her. But I had believed too many lies. Trusted too many people who had betrayed me.
"Why are you here?" I asked. "The last time I saw you, Alexei's men were attacking your apartment. I thought you were dead."
"I almost was." Nadia set down her coffee. "I survived by hiding in a basement for three days. When I came out, you were gone. Alexander had taken you. I spent weeks tracking him, building a case, waiting for the right moment to strike."
"Weeks? You knew where I was for weeks and you did nothing?"
"I could not risk it. If I moved too soon, he would have killed you and disappeared. I had to be sure. I had to gather enough evidence to put him away for life."
"And what about Nikolai? You let him walk into a trap."
"I did not let him do anything. He chose to go alone. He chose to strap a bomb to his chest. I cannot control either of you." She leaned forward. "But I am here now. And I am not leaving until Alexander Volkov is behind bars forever."
The double doors swung open. A doctor walked out, still in his scrubs. He looked tired but not defeated.
"Mrs. Markov?"
I stood up. My legs were shaking. "Yes. How is he?"
"The surgery went well. We removed the bullet and repaired the damage. He is awake and asking for you."
I almost collapsed with relief. "Can I see him?"
"He is in recovery. Follow me."
She led me through the double doors, down a white hallway, past rooms filled with sleeping patients. At the end of the hall, she stopped in front of a door.
"He is still weak. Do not stay too long."
I nodded and pushed open the door.
Nikolai lay in a hospital bed, his leg wrapped in bandages, his arm in a sling. His face was pale and his eyes were tired. But when he saw me, he smiled.
"Anya."
I walked to the bed and sat beside him. I took his hand and held it to my cheek.
"You scared me," I said. "Do not ever do that again."
"I will try not to."
I kissed his fingers. His knuckles were bruised and swollen. He had broken them punching someone. Probably a guard. Probably saving my life.
"Nadia says Alexander is in custody. They are charging him with everything they can think of."
"He will find a way out. Men like him always do."
"Not this time. She has evidence. Documents. Recordings. Witnesses. He is finished."
Nikolai closed his eyes. "I have heard that before."
"This is different."
He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Is it? Volkov was supposed to be finished. Kozlov was supposed to be dead. Alexander was supposed to be nothing. And yet here we are. In a hospital. Again."
"We are alive. That is what matters."
"We are alive because we got lucky. Luck runs out, Anya."
I squeezed his hand. "Then we stop relying on luck. We stop fighting. We walk away."
"Walk away? To where?"
"Anywhere. Everywhere. Somewhere no one knows our names. We start over. New identities. New lives. No more mafia. No more violence. Just us."
He was quiet for a long time. The machines beeped softly around us. The room smelled like medicine and antiseptic.
"You would do that?" he asked. "Leave everything behind?"
"I would leave the world behind if it meant being with you."
He pulled me closer. I laid my head on his chest. His heart beat beneath my ear, steady and strong.
"Then let us do it," he said. "Let us disappear."
"We need money. New papers. A place to go."
"I have money hidden. Accounts no one knows about. Enough to start over anywhere."
"Even after Alexander took everything?"
"Especially after Alexander took everything. I learned long ago never to keep all my eggs in one basket."
I smiled. "You are full of surprises, Nikolai Markov."
"And you are full of blood. When is the last time you washed your hands?"
I looked down at my stained fingers. "I forgot."
"Go wash. Then come back. We have planning to do."
I stood up and walked to the small bathroom attached to the room. The water was cold but I did not care. I scrubbed my hands until the pink water ran clear. I looked at myself in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes. Bruises on my neck. Hair tangled and matted.
But I was alive. We were both alive.
I walked back to the bed. Nikolai was sitting up, his phone in his hand.
"What are you doing?"
"Calling Viktor. Telling him to start making arrangements."
"Now? You were just in surgery."
"The sooner we leave, the sooner we are safe."
I sat beside him and watched him make the call. His voice was weak but determined. He was not going to let anyone hurt me again. And I was not going to let anyone hurt him.
When he hung up, he turned to me. "Viktor will have everything ready by morning. We leave at dawn."
"Dawn?"
"The earlier the better. Alexander may be in custody, but he has friends. People who will want revenge. We need to be gone before they decide to come looking."
I nodded. "Where are we going?"
"I do not know yet. Somewhere warm. Somewhere far. Somewhere no one will find us."
He reached for my hand. I gave it to him.
"Nikolai," I said. "Before we go, I need to know. Everything Alexander told me about my past. My mother. My father. The detective. Was any of it true?"
Nikolai's face grew serious. "I do not know. I can find out. But are you sure you want to know?"
"I have spent my whole life not knowing who I am. I think it is time I found out."
"Then we will find out together."
I leaned down and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared. There was no mafia. No violence. No Alexander. Just us.
"Anya," he whispered against my lips.
"Yes?"
"There is something I have to tell you."
"What?"
He pulled back and looked at me. His eyes were serious. "The bomb I wore. The one Alexander took the detonator for. It was not real."
I stared at him. "What?"
"It was fake. I strapped it to my chest to scare him. There were no explosives. No wires. Nothing. It was just a prop."
"You risked your life on a prop?"
"I risked my life on the hope that he would be too afraid to call my bluff." He smiled. "And it worked."
I hit his chest. "You idiot! I thought we were going to die!"
"We were. But we did not. Because I knew something Alexander did not."
"What?"
"Fear makes you stupid. And Alexander was very, very afraid."
I wanted to be angry. I wanted to shout and scream and hit him again. But instead, I laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face.
"You are insane," I said. "Completely and utterly insane."
"Maybe. But I am alive. And so are you. And that is all that matters."
He kissed me again. The machines beeped. The room smelled like medicine. Somewhere outside, the sun was beginning to rise.
We had survived. Against all odds. Against all logic. We had survived.
But as I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest, I could not shake the feeling that our troubles were not over.
Alexander was in custody. But custody was not forever. And men like Alexander always found a way out.
The sun rose higher. The room grew brighter.
And somewhere in the city, in a cold cell, Alexander Volkov was already planning his escape.
The front door of the hospital room burst open. Nadia stood there, her face pale, her eyes wide.
"We have a problem," she said. "Alexander is gone.”