Page 62

Valeria

N o one could be ready for the situation I found myself in. I witnessed firsthand as Dorian literally pushed his fingers inside his brother’s wound and twisted them in all directions, trying to find the bullet and take it out.

Malin held Zyon down with all his might, pushing his upper body against his brother’s so he didn’t move. And I cried while I pressed my cheek against Zyon’s and hugged him in a weirdly broken position, doing my best to show him he wasn’t alone.

Zyon wanted to mask his desperate, painful screams by sinking his teeth into his lower lip, but it didn’t help. He only bit the sensitive flesh, making it bleed while the hopeless cries slipped out his mouth.

“It’s gonna be okay,” I whispered at least a hundred times, unable to look away from Dorian’s bloody fingers as he pulled them out again.

“He will bleed out,” he said, shaking his head helplessly. “I can’t find the bullet, and he is losing too much blood. We need to get him to the OR.”

“No hospital,” Zyon rasped, breathing hard. I thought he was lost in agony, but clearly, I was wrong. He knew what was happening.

“You’ll die,” Dorian stated, placing his dirty hands on his hips. He was covered in huge red stains, looking like a butcher. My eyes jumped from one to another, unsure why Dorian discussed it. Zyon should have already been on his way into the hospital if they knew they couldn’t help him.

“I won’t,” Zyon objected weakly but with his usual stubbornness and determination, as if he could decide when was the right time to die. “You won’t let me,” he added, panting. I brushed my hand against his cheek, seeing as life was slowly leaving his body. It was an awful sight.

“I’m a doctor, not a fucking magician, Zyon,” Dorian rumbled, shaking his head in disapproval. “I won’t risk losing you because of your idiotic plan!”

“Getting shot wasn’t part of the plan,” Malin objected, glaring at Dorian.

“But here we are!” Dorian threw his arms in the air, pointing around the dirty room. “Do you have any idea how wrong this is? It’s like we are in World War Two without equipment, in the middle of the battlefield!”

“You can make it work,” Zyon whispered, gently squeezing my hand. “Just try again.”

“Let’s just go to the hospital,” I suggested softly, moving Zyon’s sweaty hair from his forehead. “It’s the best we can do.”

“No, mon c?ur,” Zyon refused instantly, his tired, clouded eyes connecting with mine with a plea hidden between the words. “No hospitals.”

“You’ve been here for more than two hours,” I tried again, not understanding how he could survive so long. “Please, be rational.”

“He lost too much blood for his brain to function correctly,” Dorian mumbled, pacing back and forth before the table. “I need to open the wound more to see better, but it may kill you.”

“Just fucking do it!” Zyon groaned, his head tilting back and his teeth clashing together when Dorian examined the injury. The bleeding wasn’t so bad, but I knew Zyon could have internal damage that could be fatal.

“Zyon, please,” I begged, placing my trembling hand on his naked shoulder. My tears fell on his face as I hovered over him. “Dorian can’t perform surgery here. You will die. ”

“I’ve been through worse,” he whispered, taking my palm and moving it to his dry lips. “Just don’t leave me.” He kissed the back of my hand and closed his eyes, reconciled with his fate.

“Fine,” Dorian snapped, his face the iron mask of anger but also resolution. “But if you die, Zyon, I’ll find you in hell and kill you again.”

“Noted,” Zyon exhaled, his grip on my hand tightening.

“Can you give him something for the pain?” I asked Dorian, watching as he opened the tiny bag and took out the shiny scalpel.

“I don’t have any meds here,” he replied sadly, cleaning his hands and the scalpel with alcohol.

“Malin already knocked him out, but he woke up when I started. It’s been like this until you came.

Since you’ve been here, it’s been much better.

He’s stopped trying to break my nose. Please, don’t leave us. ”

“I won’t,” I whispered, returning my attention to Zyon. I entwined our fingers and pressed my lips against his sweaty forehead. One corner of his plump lips lifted, yet it immediately disappeared when Dorian started his work.

Malin did an exceptional job in holding Zyon down. If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I would never believe how strong an injured, bleeding person could be when his body fought with more pain.

Zyon’s muscles were stiff like boulders when he pressed against Malin. He battled with him as if he was the reason behind his injuries.

Terrifying screams full of despair resonated through the room, shattering my heart into pieces. I felt helpless and completely useless. I couldn’t do anything; I just held him tightly and hoped it would end soon.

“I have it!” Dorian yelled victoriously, taking the bullet out. I exhaled in relief, unsure if it had been a few seconds or half an hour since he started. “Give me a minute, and we’re done.”

“It’s almost over,” I whispered into Zyon’s ear, listening to his heavy breathing. He was at the end of his strength. “Hold on, my love. Please, just hold on. ”

“I love you, Valeria,” Zyon breathed, making the entire world and our current situation fall to oblivion. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay.” I stroked his shoulder and kissed his cheek, fighting with another wave of tears. “I know you did it to protect me.”

“I failed.” He gulped, hissing in pain when Dorian began sewing him. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” I said against his lips, doing everything possible to keep his attention away from the pain. “There is nothing to apologize for. We are okay.”

“But, if I die—” His voice momentarily broke as Dorian relentlessly continued to fix his wounds, and I used the opportunity to cut him off.

“You won’t die. That’s not an option,” I stated resolutely, pecking the tip of his nose. “You kidnapped me and forced me to fall in love with you. Now, you’re stuck with me for eternity.”

He exhaled something that could be interpreted as a laugh but instantly groaned in discomfort.

“Easy, my love,” I muttered softly, unable to imagine how he felt. “It’ll only get better from here.”

“But if I die,” he started again, this time not giving me a chance to interrupt him, “you’ll take Zara and leave the country. You will never look back.”

“Zyon,” I breathed, my chin quivering.

“Promise me this, Valeria,” he pleaded weakly, clutching my hand. “You’ll leave.”

“I promise,” I sobbed, incapable of holding my tears any longer.

It sounded like a goodbye, but my heart wasn’t willing to accept it. It was too soon. We should grow old together, have kids and many grandchildren, argue about unimportant things, make love in unusual places, and enjoy life with its ups and downs. This couldn’t be the end of our story.

Zyon’s eyes closed, and I raised my head to look at Dorian. He stared at his brother’s abdomen, wiping his hands with a cloth .

“We need blood and antibiotics,” he said, turning to Malin, who was already cleaning the mess. “I’ll call my assistant. She’ll prepare everything. How quick can you be?”

“The quickest,” Malin replied, snatching his helmet from the old dusty shelf. He was gone in a blink of an eye.

Dorian arranged the supplies and returned to me. I watched Zyon’s chest rising and falling in an even rhythm, subconsciously counting his breaths. I was most likely heavily traumatized and definitely petrified.

Our surroundings were dirty, undoubtedly full of bacteria that could cause serious infections. And what if Dorian hadn’t repaired all the damage? What if Zyon was still bleeding internally?

“Are you okay?” Dorian asked gently, cleaning his hands with wet napkins.

“No,” I admitted quietly, refusing to look away from Zyon. “Could he still die?”

“Yes,” Dorian replied without hesitation, shrugging when I whipped my head toward him. “I made a mistake, Valeria. I should never have tried to get the bullet out.”

“W-what?” I stuttered, sure I heard him wrong. “What do you mean?”

Dorian inhaled deeply, looking at Zyon. His expression was severe, and his eyes swirled with concern. Dread washed over me when many alarming possibilities arose out of nowhere. I wasn’t prepared to face another crisis, and Zyon was too weak to survive more pain. We needed a break.

“Usually,” Dorian started, placing the water bottle on the metal counter, “there is absolutely no reason to remove a bullet unless it’s in the way of repairing the damage it caused or it carries something dangerous.”

He bit his lower lip, staring at something on the floor. I didn’t want to interrupt him and ask questions that swirled like a cyclone in my head, hoping he would answer them while explaining.

“I thought some major artery or organ was damaged, but I was wrong,” he admitted, running his hand through his messy hair.

“Without the scans, it’s just a guessing game.

Still, I could have tried a different approach.

” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he had done.

“I cut him open in a dirty warehouse to find out I could’ve sewn him up, and he would be okay. ”

“I don’t understand a damn thing,” I said, blinking in confusion. His words didn’t make any sense. “What if he had internal bleeding?”

“That’s exactly what I asked myself,” Dorian answered, drifting his gaze back to Zyon. “But the bullet only tore the muscle, avoiding everything important. Even if it stayed there for the rest of his life, he would’ve been okay. I unnecessarily caused more bleeding and pain.”

“Dorian.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it supportively. “You don’t have X-ray eyes. You couldn’t know what was happening inside.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. “But it doesn’t change the fact that if he catches an infection, we are screwed.”

“What can I do?” I asked, mirroring his sad look. Zyon looked so peaceful that it was hard to believe what he was going through.

“Pray,” Dorian replied, exhaling heavily. “After I give him meds, there is nothing more we can do.”

“Oh, God,” I breathed, my lower lip trembling.

The urge to cry was overwhelming. I couldn’t stop the rivulets of tears running down my cheeks. I felt utterly useless, which was magnified by the fact that I had no idea how to help injured people. I could only sit by Zyon and hold his hand, nothing more.

Malin returned in record time. He brought IV fluids, antibiotics, and blood bags and somehow managed to drive his motorcycle with a small cooler box.

“You have access to all of these?” I gaped at the supplies, examining them from every side.

“I own a clinic, Valeria.” Dorian winked at me, putting the metal stand together and hanging the IV fluid bag. “As a doctor, I have access to great stuff.”

“I’ve never heard of you being a doctor.” I frowned, turning to Malin. “What is your area of expertise? ”

“The real one or the one father forced me to study?” he asked, and Dorian chuckled. It was obvious I shouldn’t ask about the real one.

“The forced one,” I replied, even when I hoped to get the other answer, too.

“I have a degree from MIT, Computer Science, and other bullshit,” Malin said nonchalantly, helping Dorian arrange everything in its place.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I had to pick my jaw from the floor. I had heard and found many things about the Zhumagulov brothers, but that information was alien to me. There was no mention of their studies anywhere, so it was a shock.

“Don’t tell me you graduated from Harvard,” I teased, following Dorian’s precise movements.

“Me?” He laughed. “No. The Harvard Law graduate is a sleeping beauty.” He nodded toward Zyon, preparing the needle. “But he never practiced. I don’t know if his license is still valid, so don’t expect much of him.”

“I’ll try.”

I sat on the opposite side, taking Zyon’s hand gently. His pale face roughly brought me back to the reality where he was fighting for his life.

The drops of fluids slowly moved into his veins, supporting his body in the battle. My eyes were set on him, watching him cautiously to detect any minor change.

Fear held me in its tight embrace, but I believed he would pull through. He was strong, and hopefully, the worst was behind us.

“Fight, my love,” I whispered, pressing his cold hand against my lips. “Don’t you dare leave me now.”