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“According to the hospital, it’s a nonnegotiable part of thedeal of you leaving. Wheelchair for the next few weeks to allow the stomach wounds to fully heal.”

“How am I going to shoot fools in this thing?”

I laugh and I push from behind just to annoy him as I got him a state-of-the-art, top-line chair. He can go manual or automatic with it and it even has a little desk attachment at the mansion. I’m betting by the end of his time in it, he’ll be using it to work from.

That or Sasha will wreak havoc on the household.

And I grin at that.

“You can’t,” I say as we get in the elevator. “Shoot people.”

The person in here with us clearly doesn’t speak Russian.

“I have a lot of pent-up frustrations.”

“Sorry, my friend.” I rest a hand on his shoulder. “You’re under strict orders to rest. And I’ve hired a team of nurses to look after you.”

“Old woman,” he spits, trying not to laugh. “I don’t need help.”

“Around the clock care, Ilya. And it’s nonnegotiable, too.”

He snorts, clearly thinking he’ll get out of it, but he won’t. I mean it. Ilya’s my best friend and he almost lost his life protecting the woman I love. I’ll give him an army if he needs it. Anything at all. I owe him.

“Are these nurses at least female and cute?” Ilya wryly asks.

I laugh and shake my head as we reach the ground floor and cross the foyer to the outside. Pavel is there with the car, waiting. He helps the annoyed Ilya out of the wheelchair and to the car while one of my other men folds the chair and put it in the back. I get in next to him.

“Well, Boss?” he asks. “Are they super cute, stacked, and in a very short and tight uniforms?”

“They’re blonde.”

“Good start.”

“And according to those in the know, hot.”

He grins. “And the uniforms?”

“Fitted.”

“What about stacked?”

“Hmm, they’re all tall, muscular Swedish men, so if you mean well hung, I didn’t inspect them. You can do that.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m glad you’ve still got a sense of humor. I know you got at least one female.”

He’s right. But I chose the medical staff on their credentials and references, not on anything else.

Ilya taps his fingers on the armrest as he sits opposite me. “I’ve got some leads, but nothing concrete to move on at the moment. I’m hoping that’ll change,” he says. “How are things going with you and the unwanted bride to be?”

“Stefina? I haven’t seen her since I got back.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I’m planning on telling Sergio today the wedding’s off.”

“Demyan. Don’t play dangerous games. Are you sure it’s a good idea? As I said, I’ve got leads and one in particular… I wasn’t going to say anything until I found out more, but it feels good. I’m waiting on confirmation on whether to pursue it from one of my men. Give me a day or two and you might have a legitimate reason to end the agreement. One that doesn’t come with the risk of war.”

“Everything comes with the risk of war,” I say. “And it can’t wait.”

He studies me. “Erin.”

“Erin.” I sigh. “She’s not taking it well, and I need to prove to her my loyalty’s to her.”