Chapter 129 Guilty Fuchsia
❦ Rosalind ❦
I paced the living room, twisting my fingers.
I didn’t want to distract Viktor or Adrian in the middle of their mission by panicking over nothing.
But what if it wasn’t nothing?
I tried to shake it off, but my chest felt tight. I already had a suspicion that Juliana had been with Adrian all this while.
It would explain the sudden distance and the way she always sounded guilty whenever she actually bothered to pick up the phone.
My gaze drifted to the news murmuring in the background on the TV.
A fleet of police vehicles filled the screen, blue and red lights flashing in front of what looked like an embassy building.
I was about to look away when the caption caught my eye.
Breaking news: Murder at the Tibetan embassy in New York.
I froze. Then gasped. My fingers fumbled for the remote and I turned up the volume.
The reporter’s voice filled the room, professional and completely detached from the panic surging through my chest.
“Authorities confirm that Giancarlo Conti, a wanted trafficker and suspected mob leader, was killed earlier today during an attempted arrest…”
My blood ran cold.
Giancarlo.
That was what Viktor had gone to handle.
The screen shifted to a shaky rooftop shot, a helicopter footage, and I swear my heart stopped.
There, in the grainy live video, two figures sprinted across the roofline. One of them was tall, broad-shouldered, and moved with a sharp, predatory energy I knew too well.
Viktor.
He was chasing a lithe figure in black, their face covered with a mask.
I stumbled closer to the TV, my hand pressed against the wall for balance. My stomach twisted and rolled. I didn’t need a clear view to know it was him. I’d seen the way he moved too many times. I knew him like the back of my hand.
I watched, slack-jawed, as Viktor vaulted from rooftop to rooftop, chasing the sniper like a character out of a damn action movie.
My heart thudded in my chest so hard I could almost hear it over the chaos on the screen.
The camera panned to the road below, and a black car that looked… familiar, moved in the same direction as the two men above. Probably Adrian. No, definitely.
Cops were everywhere, on the rooftops, on the streets, sirens screaming. It was insane and unreal.
The doorbell suddenly rang, and I jumped, nearly dropping the remote.
My hand fumbled to turn down the volume, all while sneaking another glance at the TV.
The soldato I’d sent for the pharmacy package was there.
I grabbed his arm, practically dragging him into the living room.
“Look! Viktor… he’s… he’s in trouble!” I jabbed at the screen with a trembling finger. “You need to get men to them, now!”
His face stayed stoic. He glanced at the TV, then back at me.
“Donna… our orders are to protect you. Don Viktor looks… well, he’s handling himself.”
My jaw dropped.
Handling himself? The man was literally chasing a sniper across rooftops while cops swarmed everywhere.
My pulse was hammering, my chest tight. I could barely breathe.
I glanced back at the screen in time to see Viktor jump, collide with the sniper, and they both plummeted over the edge of a building.
Down into the alley below.
I shrieked, my hands clamped over my mouth.
My stomach lurched, the world tilted.
The voice calling my name sounded warbled.
My body slumped and the darkness closed in.
❦ ❄︎ ❦ ❄︎ ❦ ❄︎ ❦ ❄︎ ❦
I woke up groggy, my head thick and heavy like I’d been asleep for days.
The sheets were soft and tucked in against my skin. I blinked to the pale light seeping through the curtains.
There was a drip stand beside the bed, but the needle was gone, replaced by a small bandage on my wrist.
I sat up too fast. The room tilted. My hand flew to my forehead as a dull ache rolled through me, then everything came crashing back.
The TV. The embassy. Vikor… falling.
A sharp breath tore through me. I threw the blanket aside and swung my legs to the floor just as the door creaked open.
Him.
Viktor filled the doorway like nothing had happened, with broad shoulders, dark eyes, and that gravity he carried into every room.
“Finally, you’re awake.” He said, relieved.
I immediately stood up, or tried to, but he was already crossing the room in long strides. The next thing I knew, I was pressed against him with my arms around his waist, my face buried in his chest.
His shirt smelled woodsy, clean, and metallic underneath. Tears burned the corners of my eyes before I could stop them.
“Why would you do that?” I mumbled against him, my voice breaking.
He exhaled a small laugh.
“You weren’t supposed to see that. Why were you watching the news in the first place, Tesoro?”
I pulled back, glared up at him, and swatted his arm.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been vaulting over buildings,” I muttered, “knowing you had someone waiting for you at home.”
That made him pause. His hand slid to the back of my neck, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin.
His eyes searched mine, soft and intense.
“So you were worried, huh? Worried enough to faint?”
“Yes, dummy,” I said, pushing weakly at his chest before giving up and leaning right back into him. His heart was steady under my ear.
I love how safe it felt. Craved it.
Then my heart dropped.
The pregnancy test.
The package I’d sent the soldato to pick up.
Did Viktor see it? Did the soldier tell him?
My eyes darted across the room as I scanned every surface, hoping to not spot it lying there in plain sight.
He noticed. Of course he noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “I just… need a shower.”
“Take it easy,” he murmured. “You’ve been through enough. The doctor said you need rest.”
“How long was I out?”
He hesitated. “Doesn’t matter. You’re fine now.”
I nodded, even though that wasn’t an answer.
My head still felt fuzzy, but the anxiety had sobered me right up.
He leaned down then, brushing his lips against mine softly. My breath caught, and I lost myself in the kiss.
I forgot everything. The test. The fear. My world encompassed just the heat of his mouth and the weight of his hand at my hips.
When he pulled back, he said quietly, “Come downstairs after your shower. I’ve got something for you.”
My face warmed. “Okay,” I whispered.
I shuffled toward the bathroom.
The light was too bright. It hit the mirror in a way that made my reflection look washed out, hollow-eyed.
I leaned closer, my fingers gripping the edge of the sink, and sighed. My skin looked pale, my lips were cracked. I looked… worn.
Then I noticed my self-care drawer. It wasn’t closed all the way.
My stomach twisted as I pulled the drawer open. Sitting right at the top was a small pale pink bag that hadn’t been there before.
My pulse spiked.
The test strip.
Did the soldato drop it off after I fainted? Or… God… did Viktor find it and put it there himself?
My fingers trembled around the bag.
He couldn’t have seen it. He wouldn’t just… put it back without a word. Right? Unless he did. Unless he already knew and just didn’t want to say it.
My head started to ache from the spiral. I pressed my palm against my temple, trying to shut my brain up.
“It would be better to do this in the morning,” I muttered to myself. “They say it’s more accurate with first pee… cause there are more hormones present then…”
But I couldn’t wait. I wouldn’t sleep tonight if I didn’t know.
I tore one open and sat down. My hands were cold and clumsy. I did it quickly… pee, test, done.
I placed the strip on the counter without looking, cleaned up, and washed my hands twice.
And then I just stood there.
I tried to look anywhere else. The wall. The towel rack. The fog on the mirror.
But my eyes snapped right to it.
Two lines.
Two thick, pink lines.
Capital P for Pregnant.
My vision blurred as I scooped it up, tossed it into the toilet and flushed. Gone.
Then I turned on the shower for hot water.
If I didn’t think about it right now, if I just didn’t, maybe it wouldn’t matter.
By the time I finished my shower and dressed, the steam had eased some of the tightness in my chest.
I brushed through my hair, took one last look in the mirror, and told my reflection to get it together.
Then I walked out, schooling my face into calmness.
But my heart wouldn’t play along.
By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, the air shifted. The low hum of voices stopped. The whole room… hushed.
My eyes swept across the space.
Viktor was the first person I saw, his white T-shirt stretched tightly across his chest. My throat tightened, stupidly, at the sight of him.
Then Adrian. Standing to the side, in gray pants and a shirt that looked worn as if he hadn’t changed since that rooftop chaos.
And beside him… her.
She stood with her fingers intertwined, her hair tied up in a ponytail. Dressed in a pretty fuchsia sundress, with guilt written all over her face.
My brow lifted.
The woman swallowed, then she smiled sheepishly.
“I can explain,” she said.