Chapter 83 Enigmatic Wife
❄︎ Viktor ❄︎
A series of events wrenched me from a dreamless sleep.
My fingers twitched around a phantom trigger at the sound of her scream.
My eyes snapped open just as a heavy jasmine-scented weight slammed onto me.
Then a muffled pop.
A door banged open.
Another pop.
A thud on the ground.
The smell of charred fabric hit my nose, and I turned, horrified to see a bullet hole on the pillow right beside my head. Scratch that. Right between our heads.
The weight had been Rosa draped over me, shielding me with her body.
She lay unmoving, her eyes clenched shut, her body vibrating on mine.
“What the fuck was that?” I barked at Adrian, who had burst into the room.
The bodyguard named Jacques was still frozen with his gun pointed at the IV stand beside the bed.
“Rosa, tesoro,” I called, my heart pounding at the back of my throat. I wrapped both arms around her, ignoring the pain.
When she finally opened her eyes with a groan, I released a relieved sigh.
“What was that? What did you do?” I hissed.
“T-the nurse. She tried to kill you,” Rosa muttered, her hands running over my face, neck and torso as if checking for wounds.
My pulse roared in my head. She shielded me with her body. Why?
“Why?” I croaked. “Why did you do that?!”
In the background, Adrian crouched to check something on the floor, the nurse, whom I assumed Jacques had shot.
Rosa blinked, her palms still on my skin, the warmth soothing. “She was going to kill you, Viktor. What else could I have done?”
“Not put yourself between me and the bullet is what!” I snapped.
She squealed when I grabbed her around the waist, hauling her into a rib-crushing hug.
“Viktor, you’ll hurt yourself,” she mumbled into my neck.
“Not more than you already had leaping onto me. I think you broke a rib.”
“Ungrateful as ever,” she snorted, pushing out of my hold. She looked back at Adrian. I followed her eyes.
“Who is she?” I barked, seeing red.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that I’d almost been burned to death and lost my core memories. At that moment the doctor walked in, eyes bulging and wiping pale hands on his coat. Adrian promptly walked up to him.
“Not. A. Word.” he gritted.
The doctor nodded earnestly.
Discharge passed in a blur, my bodyguards flanking me tightly at every moment.
I spent the drive to my house gritting my jaw, trying to remember anything from the day they told me I left the Grand Marlow hotel to check out the explosion at the warehouse in Red Hook. I stabbed my palm with my nails every time I came up short.
On the drive, I stared, unblinking, at my wife. Her behavior so far did not match that of the siren I’d been cautioned to beware of by my underboss. She had jumped between me and a bullet.
She pretended to concentrate on her phone, but I knew she knew I was watching. That lovely sundress contributed to my unbroken perusal.
Lush dark hair cascaded down one shoulder, her delicate skin teased with a light cluster of freckles at the junction of her neck. That jasmine and lemon scent wafted off her, filling the car, and I was suddenly overcome with the urge to hoard it for myself.
I wondered what kind of relationship we had before and was about to engage her in conversation when she turned and met my gaze.
Almond-hazel eyes, framed with lashes so wispy they were like a dream. Her lips had stopped moving by the time I realized I hadn’t heard a word, entranced by her soft rosy mouth.
“Say that again.” My throat bobbed with thirst, for her.
She smiled coyly. “I said, do you remember all the members of the house I’ve told you about? You won’t meet them all at once. Adrian made a point of no one disturbing you.”
“Sure.”
My resourceful and cunning wife had filled my head with the basic information I needed to hide this memory loss for as long as possible. Until memories resurfaced. There was no telling when or if they ever would.
I shook off the depressing thought and picked up her hand. I pressed my lips to the back of it.
Her little gasp awakened something in me. I dragged my lips over the supple skin for good measure, my gaze never leaving hers.
“And you,” I continued, “are you family?”
“I technically took a bullet for you, boss.”
Her smirk and tone prickled something in me. Adrian had said she’s a wild card.
“It could have been a well-orchestrated plan.”
Her gaze darkened, her lips pressing into a tight line. I almost regretted my accusation. Almost. She looked dangerously sexy giving me a death glare.
“You think I could sacrifice a life just to stage myself saving your life?”
“Well, if we really think about it. I don’t know you or what you can do.”
The flash of hurt in her eyes was not imagined. And it confused me. Adrian had told me she had been pining for a divorce up until the night of the accident.
She took her hand from mine and turned to face forward. Not knowing what to say, I slouched in the seat, exhaustion seeping strength out of me.
My jaw clenched. How was I supposed to assume my duties normally as a don if I didn’t even remember becoming one? Fuck.
My mind reeled back to the Sanchezes. I had thought of them because it was the last violent memory I remembered.
Ten fucking years ago, Father forced Paulo to stab Guerrero Sanchez in the basement chamber over and over until they were both drenched in blood.
That blasted golden snake jaw and the muzzle sigil was branded in my skull.
I had no idea why that useless piece of information stuck with me. Shrugging the image off, I picked up my wife’s hand again, placing it firmly on my thigh. She did not react.
I squeezed it for good measure, letting her know that whatever this was between us, she was mine. Whether she knew it or not.
I was very interested in getting to know her better. All the secrets in her gaze and the conflicting theories of our relationship.
I needed to connect the damned threads and find out who wanted my head before they took it off my body.
And she was instrumental to that plan.