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Aithan

The tension in the hospital room is thick enough to cut with a blade. Viktor Makarov stands with his arms crossed, his cold blue eyes locked onto me like he’s assessing a target. His two right-hand men, both towering walls of muscle with expressions carved from stone, flank him, ready to react at the slightest provocation. His wife, Scarlett, sits beside Yelena’s bed, gripping her hand tightly, while Yelena’s twin sister, Alina, paces the room, her face a mask of worry and controlled fury.

I can feel the animosity radiating off them. They don’t trust me. They don’t trust that I can protect her. Hell, they look like they are suspecting me.

Viktor’s voice is calm but firm, cutting through the silence like a blade. “We’re taking her back to New York.”

I don’t react right away. Instead, I exhale slowly, my fists clenching at my sides. I knew this was coming. The Bratva doesn’t take chances when it comes to their own, and Yelena isn’t just anyone—she’s their princess, the bloodline of their empire. But she’s also my wife.

“No.”

My refusal is final. The single word echoes through the room, laced with a quiet warning.

Viktor’s jaw tightens. “You’re not in a position to refuse, Vasilios.”

“She’s my wife,” I say, my voice low, lethal. “Her protection is my responsibility. She stays here, where I can watch over her.”

Scarlett looks up, her gaze softer, but no less determined. “This isn’t about who she belongs to. This is about what’s best for her. Where she will be safer.”

I shift my gaze to Yelena. She looks so fragile, so unlike the fiery woman who constantly challenges me. Tubes and wires connect her to machines, monitoring her every breath. The venom took its toll, but the doctors say she’ll recover. She just needs time.

Viktor steps closer, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. “She was poisoned under your watch. You couldn’t protect her, and now you expect me to trust you?”

A sharp pang of guilt slices through me, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I straighten my shoulders, stepping into his space, meeting him head-on. “You think moving her while she’s still in critical condition is protecting her?” I sneer. “The doctors say she needs to stay under observation. If you force this, you could kill her.”

His nostrils flare, and for a second, I think he’s going to throw a punch. The air is charged, waiting for someone to make the first move. His men shift, anticipating violence. So do mine.

Then, a sound—a soft, weak murmur.

Every head in the room snaps toward Yelena.

She stirs, her lashes fluttering, her lips parting as a faint sound escapes her throat. My breath catches, and within seconds, I’m at her bedside.

“Get the doctor,” I bark, and Leon bolts from the room without hesitation.

Scarlett grips Yelena’s hand tighter. “Yelena? We’re here, you’re safe.”

Her fingers twitch, the faintest sign of life, but her body remains limp. I reach out, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face, my throat tightening at how pale she looks.

“Yelena, it’s me.” My voice is rough, desperate. “Open your eyes.”

A slight crease forms between her brows, as if she’s fighting against the pull of unconsciousness. Then, ever so slightly, her lips move. A breath, a whisper so faint I almost miss it.

“Aithan…”

A rush of emotion slams into my chest. I don’t let it show, but inside, something uncoils, loosens just slightly at the sound of her voice.

“I’m here, agápi mou.” I lean in closer, my hands tightening around hers. “I’m here.”

Viktor watches, his hard gaze flicking between Yelena and me. He sees the way she responds to me, the way her lips shape my name even in her weakest state.

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding leaves me. But Viktor is still watching me, and I know this isn’t over.

“We’re not done with this conversation, Vasilios,” he says quietly, his warning clear. “We will not let this slide.”

I don’t look away from Yelena, my fingers still wrapped around hers. “Neither will my family.”

Yelena’s frail form is still, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor the only sound filling the silence. Every set of eyes is locked onto her, waiting, hoping.

I clench her delicate fingers in mine, my grip firm but gentle, as if willing my strength into her. My chest tightens as I watch the slow rise and fall of her chest, searching for any sign of movement beyond that.

Then, it happens again.

A groan, weak but unmistakable, escapes Yelena’s lips.

The sound has an immediate effect. Scarlett gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth, and Alina, who had been pacing on the other side of the room, stills completely. Viktor, his arms still crossed over his chest, stands rigid, his icy blue gaze fixated on his sister.

I lean closer, my thumb brushing against the back of her hand. “Yelena?” My voice is quiet, rough with restrained emotion.

Another faint groan follows, this time accompanied by the slight flutter of her eyelids.

A rush of relief hits me so hard I feel momentarily dizzy. My grip tightens around her fingers. “That’s it, agápi mou . Come back to me.”

At that moment, the door bursts open, and the doctor strides in, Leon trailing closely behind him. The doctor acknowledges the room of high-powered and dangerous men with a nod but doesn’t waste a second before shifting his attention to Yelena.

He leans over, checking her pupils with a small penlight, then gently taps her shoulder. “Mrs. Vasilios, can you hear me?”

Yelena’s lips part, and her voice, hoarse and barely above a whisper, slips through. “Mmm… Aithan…”

Everything inside me clenches at the sound of my name.

“I’m here, glikia mou ,” I whisper, my forehead nearly touching hers. “I’m here.”

The doctor continues his assessment, checking her pulse, but his face is unreadable as he reviews the monitors and nods to himself.

“She’s stabilizing well,” he finally announces, adjusting one of the IV drips. “Her response to treatment is promising. I’m confident she will make a full recovery.”

The collective breath of relief in the room is almost audible. Scarlett’s shoulders sag, and Alina lets out a shaky exhale. Even Viktor, though his expression remains stoic, seems to lose some of his rigid tension.

Then, before anyone can say anything else, Scarlett and Alina spring into action, practically flanking her on both sides.

“Yelena!” Scarlett gushes, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You scared the crap out of us!”

“Oh, come on, give her some air,” Alina chimes in, but it doesn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around Yelena in an almost suffocating hug.

Yelena, still weak but evidently unimpressed by the dramatic display, groans. “Can you two stop licking me like I’m your cub?”

A stunned silence follows her words, then, one by one, chuckles begin to escape the group. Scarlett laughs first, then Alina, and even Leon smirks from his place against the wall.

“Yup,” Alina declares, shaking her head with a grin. “My sister is definitely going to be alright; she's already back to herself.”

Relief courses through me like a drug, potent and undeniable. She’s back. She’s here. And I’m never letting anything happen to her again.