Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
The doctor seemed nervous to be here, like Vlad is some kind of dignitary or something. I guess bratva is well-respected here. Or maybe he guesses I’m a prisoner and is afraid I’m going to appeal to him for help.
Of course he couldn’t know how sexually satisfied this prisoner happens to be.
I pick at a fingernail. My hands are clammy and I have a knot in my solar plexus. It’s been eight months since the stage 3 kidney failure diagnosis, and I’ve managed to keep it hidden from the people who love me. It’s like, if no one knows, it’s not real.
But maybe this doctor won’t find it. Depends on what tests he runs on the blood. “What is he checking for?” I try to sound casual.
I must fail because Vlad’s eyes narrow. “What do you know he will find?”
Busted.
I draw a circle with my toe on the living room rug. Mika’s listening from his post on the sofa.
“Does this have to do with why you think you can’t have children?”
I look up sharply, wondering how he figured that one out.
He shrugs. “Doctor said diabetes shouldn’t prevent it, it’s just riskier.”
I’m cold and sweaty all at once.
“Just tell me, Alessia.” There’s a pleading quality to Vlad’s voice I haven’t heard before. Only then do I realize he’s a little pale. “Is it cancer?”
Mika puts down his tablet to listen, eyes wide.
Cancer is everyone’s biggest fear. That word alone produces fear in the least emotional of people.
“Kidney failure,” I say quickly, since he’s already gone to the worst. Or what he perceives as the worst.
His brow furrows. “Fuck. A result of the diabetes?”
I nod. “I’m at stage three. Stage four is when you have to do dialysis.”
“This is why you’re short of breath?”
“Yes.”
He rubs his forehead. “Is it..it’s not—”
“It’s not terminal, no. The next step would be dialysis and finding a donor match for a kidney transplant. But I’m not there yet.”
Vlad seizes on that. “Kidney transplant. Da. You don’t have to wait for dialysis for this. We’ll find you one now.”
“No.” I shake my head vehemently. “I’m not ready for that. My family...I haven’t even told them yet.”
Vlad considers me for a moment, absorbing this. “Why not?”
“I’m just not...ready.”
“You don’t want to deal with it. Don’t want it to be real.”
Relief that he understands sweeps through me. “Yes. Exactly.” I’ve been so freaked out about the whole thing. About dealing with my family’s emotions around it. Having to stand strong against their fears. Their overprotectiveness. And then there’s facing the whole kidney transplant thing. Getting on a donor list. Searching for a match. What if we don’t find one? My whole life could become consumed by broken hopes and bitter dreams.
Vlad comes over to the couch and sits beside me, then pulls me onto his lap. “You’re not alone, zaika. This can be handled. I’ll handle it, okay? We’ll find a match and do the surgery and your life will improve. You can have those babies you want so badly. Go on longer walks.”
My eyes sting. I wrap my hand over the top of one of his and squeeze. “I’m not ready,” I whisper.
He nods. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll be ready when it’s time,” he promises.
I want to believe him. Vlad is the sort of man who gets impossible things done. Like kidnapping a mafia princess and taking her to Russia. Making her fall in love with him.
And I’m relieved at his unemotional response—so different from how my Sicilian family would’ve reacted. Or at least how I projected they would react.
And maybe finding a donor will be easier in Russia than in the U.S. Lord knows, the corruption here goes far and wide. Maybe Vlad can offer big money to a donor here. Or pull strings to get me to the top of a list. There might be advantages to being in this country. To having Vlad in my corner.
I turn and lean into him, tucking my face into his neck. He continues to hold me, stroking my back and massaging my scalp.
I know this isn’t a fairy tale. Vlad isn’t my prince. He’s definitely no knight in shining armor. But if he thinks he can fix me, maybe he can. I let some of the fear that’s been gnawing at me since the diagnosis ebb.
I’ll let him shield me from the fears I’ve been running from for a little while longer…
Vlad
This is a terrible idea.
Alessia shoots me a speculative look as we drive in the back of the limo into the city. Mika’s on the seat across from us, watching out the windows.
“Are you taking me shopping?” She’s been trying to guess where I’m taking her, and I’ve been cagey about it.
Mostly because I’m thinking it’s a huge mistake.
I rub my forehead. “If you like, yes.” Maybe I should scrap my plan and just take her shopping. Nothing makes a woman happy like spending money on her.