Page 77

SISI

" W hat are you doing out and about?"

My hands on my hips, I glower at him, my expression showing him I'm not joking.

"I'm fine, hell girl. Besides, who's going to help with the renovations?" He gives me that charming smile of his in hopes it will melt my anger away.

Melt me it might, but not my anger. Not when he's just gotten out of bed, his stitches not completely healed.

"Not someone who was shot four times in the chest, Vlad." I roll my eyes at him. "Certainly not someone who was just at death's door. Drop the shovel and come with me," I beckon him toward me, an eyebrow raised as I wait for him to argue.

He doesn't, because he knows he won't win with me. Not when I've stayed day and night by his side, nursing both his body and his mind.

Something had happened to him that day at Miles' compound. Gaining all of his memories back had shifted something in him, and he'd changed—utterly and irrevocably.

For days after he'd been mortally wounded, he'd languished in bed, fighting between life and death, and I don't think I've ever felt greater anguish than thinking he might just… die.

Still, I'd had to be strong for both of us. I hadn't left his side for a minute. Even as my own bruised flesh had been paining me, my back riddled with small wounds from the impact of the bullets against the bulletproof vest.

I'd put everything aside, because in that moment, I had one purpose—him.

But when he'd come to, the change had been obvious in his features, in the way he held himself. More than anything, I could see a new lightness in his eyes.

He hadn't talked at first, staring into empty space.

But slowly, he started opening up, telling me everything that happened.

How Vanya died.

Though rationally he realizes it wasn't his fault, he can't help but hold himself accountable for everything that happened to his sister.

"You're so hot when you're bossy," he drawls when he comes to my side, his arm snaking around my waist.

I catch it, swatting it aside as I turn to him, a thunderous expression on my face.

"You don't get to play the charming rogue when you're barely on your feet, mister. If you think about getting out of bed again, I'll bury you myself, since it's clear you have a fervent death wish."

"Hell girl," he murmurs as he comes closer, his mouth skimming my cheek, "you know I love it when you threaten me." His breath on my skin, I can't help the involuntary shiver that goes down my body.

"I'll let you bury me," he starts, and I note the amusement in his tone, "only if I get conjugal visits," he whispers, and my lips twitch.

"Vlad," I exclaim, scandalized.

I can't believe he's still in the mood to joke.

"Fine, fine," he finally acquiesces, "I'll go back to bed. But you're coming with me."

I can't find it in me to refuse him, so I end up going to bed with him.

"You should forgive your brother," he suddenly says as he holds me to him. "You know he meant well."

"He would have killed you," I whisper, still unable to remove that scene from my mind. "One more bullet and you would have been dead , Vlad." My voice trembles as I look up at him, his dark eyes watching me intently.

"You saved me when I didn't deserve it, Sisi." His hand comes to rest on my head before he slowly moves his fingers down my hair. "But I was out of control. I could have…" A breath catches in his throat, and I recognize the agony behind his expression.

"But you didn't. You're here, with me. We're both alive. As for Marcello… I will, eventually. Not yet though," I sigh.

I understand why he'd done that, but at the same time my heart cannot bear to think of the alternative, of what might have happened if I were a second too late.

He would have killed him.

And for that, I don't think I can forgive Marcello anytime soon. I cannot even bear the thought of being in the same room as him, the urge to do harm too overwhelming.

"You haven't had any episodes so far." I change the topic as I jump out of bed to get the medical kit and change his bandages.

He pulls himself into a sitting position as he awaits for me to come tend to him, his expression pensive.

"I don't think I'll have more in the future," he mentions, and I frown.

"Why?"

Bringing the kit to the bed, I start to carefully take off his bandages before inspecting the condition of his wounds.

"These look good." I smile as I clean the areas, happy to see there's no infection and everything seems to be healing great.

He grunts, staring above my head as I continue to change the bandages. I'm focused on my task when I hear him speak again.

"The episodes," he starts, his voice far away. "I think they were my way of dealing with Vanya's death and the guilt I had over it. Blood…" He takes a deep breath, and I still, knowing this is an important moment for him.

"Blood reminded me of what I'd done. Of her blood on my hands. And every time I saw it, it made me go a little crazy."

It's clear he's been thinking about this a lot and I cannot help but worry for him. Ever since the day he found out that he'd killed his own sister he's changed. I don't know if it's a conscious change, but I do think that the last episode freed something inside of him.

"Vlad." I raise my gaze to him, searching for his expression. "Vanya wouldn't have blamed you. You know that."

He purses his lips in a sad smile.

"I do. I do, Sisi. But that doesn't take away the fact that I feel an emptiness." He brings his fist to his chest. "Here."

"It's normal." I cover his fist with my hands, bringing it to my mouth and lightly brushing my lips across his knuckles.

"It's normal to feel like that. It's human . And though disputable," my lips curl up, "you are human. Give yourself time. To grieve. To mourn. To forgive yourself."

Besides his physical injury, his psyche had been the most affected by what happened.

He's slowly starting to open up about his thoughts and feelings and I appreciate anything he chooses to share with me.

No matter how long it takes, I'll be there for him, and I'll offer him my love and support—unconditionally.

At the end of the day, it can't be easy for a man who's never allowed himself to feel anything his entire life, to suddenly be flooded with all of these strange emotions.

Sometimes I see him struggle to make sense of what's happening inside his mind, and it hurts my heart that there's nothing I can do to take away his pain.

He nods thoughtfully at my words, though his gaze is distant.

"Time…" he repeats.

"We have all the time now. And maybe getting closer to Katya might help you." I throw the idea out and he immediately grimaces.

Daunted by facing the outside world and still getting used to freedom, Katya and Tiberius have been living at Vlad's underground compound for the past month. In the meantime, we'd been staying at Vlad's childhood home as I'd thought that fresh air and some open space would do him good.

Although I'm still not on speaking terms with my brother, Lina's assistance had been a blessing as she'd helped Katya and Tiberius accommodate to their new reality, while I'd been nursing Vlad back to health.

I'd visited them a few times, and they'd come down here often too. Vlad, though, has not been too open with his sister, barely exchanging any words, their meetings stiff and awkward.

I can't exactly blame him, though, as I know he harbors some type of guilt for what happened to her, but he can't continue like this forever.

"I'll try," he grumbles, the words barely audible.

"You better." I slap him playfully on the arm.

"Auch! Convalescent here, hell girl." He feigns a moan of pain.

"As if." I snort. "You weren't convalescent when you were trying to dig a hole in the garden. Couldn't you have asked someone to do it if it was so urgent?" I roll my eyes at him.

His reaction to pain is still the same—nonexistent. Although that makes me happy in this particular scenario as I can't imagine how much four bullets through the chest would hurt.

Truth is, Vlad's always been a very physically active person, and I can't imagine what being stuck on bed rest must be doing to him. Even so, I'm not about to endanger his health just because he's pouting at me.

"We need to get started soon, though," he complains.

After he'd come to, we'd had lengthy talks about our future and what we wanted to do next.

We'd also had extremely difficult conversations about what we'd found at Miles' compound and how we were going to deal with that.

But together, we'd decided to help the children we'd rescued from Miles' laboratories, and give them a new purpose in life.

"An academy?" I'd been surprised when Vlad had suggested the idea.

"They are all different. Be it by birth, or because of what was done to them. They don't know how to fit into society, and most of them have no one to turn to," he'd explained, managing to shock me with his thoughtfulness.

"We'd teach them how to adapt to the world, and we'd give them a purpose." His smile had widened, and I'd known it had to be something insane.

"An assassin academy," he'd proudly declared, making me blink in confusion.

"Think about it. They are already primed for killing. But this way, we can teach them a more ethical way of killing," he'd paused, probably realizing that doesn't exactly apply to him, "or at least some sort of honor system, so they don't become too dangerous. So they don't become me. "

"That's not a bad idea," I'd replied. And the more I mulled over it, the more I realized the merits of the project.

"Instead of foisting some impossible standards on them like Miles had been doing, we'll foster their natural talents and make them the best damn assassins the world has ever seen."

The more he talked, the more I realized how enthusiastic he was at the prospect. And with his mental state so fragile, I knew this was the perfect thing to help him get out of his slump.