Chapter 18

My gaze is locked on Maura, watching her every expression as she’s assisted into a wheelchair. The sight ignites a fury in me, a reminder of her vulnerability and of the danger that came so close to snatching her away from me yet again. As I follow the nurse pushing Maura toward the staff’s private elevators, my mind races with violent thoughts of retribution against whoever continues to target her.

We reach the ground floor and are escorted toward an exit that leads into the parking garage, where my driver is waiting. She’s carefully settled into the back of our bulletproof SUV, a precaution that now feels more like a necessity. Once she’s secure, I slide in next to her, so many unspoken words swirling inside my head. But my barely contained rage prevents me from speaking as I clench and unclench my fists.

As the car pulls out of the parking garage and away from the hospital grounds, I can’t help but replay the day’s events in my head, each moment fueling my anger further. “They’re going to pay for this,” I mutter under my breath, the vow slipping out like a dark promise.

Maura turns to me, her eyebrows drawn together in worry. “Luk,” she starts, her voice steady despite everything she’s been through, “I know you’re angry, but—’

“But nothing,” I cut in; the words are sharp, a reflection of the turmoil churning inside me. “They almost took you from me—again. I can’t… I won’t let that go.”

The car weaves through Chicago’s busy streets, but the outside world might as well be miles away for all the attention I give it. My focus is on Maura, on the promise I need to make to her. “I’m going to find out who’s behind this,” I declare, meeting her eyes, needing her to see the depth and sincerity of my words. “And when I do, they, and anyone else involved, will wish they’d never crossed us.”

She reaches for my hand, her grip firm. “Luk, I’m scared, but knowing you’re here, that you’re fighting for us… it gives me strength, makes me feel safer,” she admits, her voice laced with a bravery that fills me with awe.

My gaze frequently shifts to the windows, eyes scanning for any sign of danger. The need to protect Maura, to ensure no harm comes her way ever again, has my senses on high alert.

I steal glances at her every so often, noticing the way she appears lost in thought as if she’s wrestling with something deep within. It’s clear she’s holding something back from me, some piece of information or concern she’s not ready to share yet. The urge to know what it is, to help shoulder whatever burden she’s carrying, is strong, but I respect her need to come to terms with things in her own time.

The SUV finally pulls up to our home, allowing a brief sense of relief. The mansion stands like a bastion against the threats of the world outside, its walls providing a protective promise of safety and security.

Unbeknownst to Maura, intense plans to ramp up security were put into place moments after the attack on her in her bedroom. During Maura’s short hospital stay, those plans were finalized—more guards, enhanced video surveillance, including more security cameras around the mansion and the grounds, and motion sensors inconspicuously placed in multiple locations inside and out. I feel as if a small semblance of control has returned, though the fact that she was able to leave undetected still does not sit well with me.

I turn to Maura, noting the tension in her posture. “Hey, you’re home,” I say softly, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re safe here. We can discuss the details later but I’ve increased the level of security significantly. No one will ever breach these walls again without being detected.”

The driver opens my door, and I step out, rounding the vehicle to assist my wife. I tenderly help her, careful not to grasp her too firmly. I wrap my arm around her waist as we step up the stairs leading to the front doors. “Where do you want to go first?” I ask Maura as we step inside, doing my best to keep the anger at bay, replacing it instead with a concern that’s become all too familiar recently.

“The library,” she decides without a moment’s hesitation, her voice carrying that unmistakable note of determination. I need to feel a sense of normalcy, doing something other than lying in bed feeling like an invalid, which I am not,” she quickly adds. Her words, laced with a stubbornness that’s both infuriating and endearing, make me smile.

As she settles into one of the chairs, I head over to the grand fireplace and strike a match to light a fire. Outside, rain begins to patter against the windows, and a soft, rhythmic sound fills the room.

The fire crackles to life, casting a warm glow over the room, and a comfortable silence envelops us. At that moment, with the storm outside and the warmth of the fire battling the chill, I know it’s time to address the new reality of our lives.

I take a seat opposite her, the seriousness of the moment pressing down on me. “Maura,” I begin, my voice steady, “there are going to be some new rules around the house. All are for your safety. You’re not going out again without security, and the fact that you were able to leave without anyone knowing was a one-time anomaly,” I state firmly.

Maura’s frustration is immediate. “I feel trapped here. I need some semblance of freedom,” she counters, her tone brimming with the willpower I’ve come to admire so deeply.

My heart twists at her plea, torn between the instinct to protect and the desire to grant her the freedom she craves. “I get it, I do. But as long as there continues to be attempts made on your life, it’s not safe,” I reply, trying to bridge the gap between my fears and her needs. “Surely, you can understand that.”

She shakes her head, her spirit unyielding. “I do understand that, but I can’t live in constant fear either, Luk. I need—”

I cut her off, not out of annoyance, but out of an overwhelming fear of losing her, of the need to get through to her. “I will not, cannot, let you just walk into danger, Maura,” My voice comes out louder than I intended, echoing off the library walls. “This is not a game; it’s about keeping you alive. I can’t do that if you’re not here or if you’re someplace unknown without the protection of your bodyguards.”

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, we’re locked in an unspoken battle of wills. “So are you saying I’m a prisoner now?” she challenges, the hurt clear in her voice.

“No, of course, you’re not a prisoner; I never want you to feel that way in your own home. I just want you to feel protected. Please, let me sort this out. Once I know for certain you’re no longer in danger, the restrictions will be lifted,” I try to explain, my voice softening, imploring her to understand. “I’m doing this because the thought of something happening to you is unbearable.”

The room falls silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the beats of raindrops on the windows, as we both grapple with the weight of the situation. “I just want you safe, and I can’t stress that enough,” I add more quietly now, hoping she can hear the sincerity in my words, the depth of my fear for her well-being.

Maura’s expression softens, a silent acknowledgment of my concern over the impossible situation we’re in. “I know. I know you’re scared. I am, too,” she admits, a truce of sorts.

I linger by her side, every instinct screaming at me to stay. I just want to wrap her in my arms and shield her from the world’s cruelty, to allow someone else to handle this and prevent us from being apart. But with a heavy heart, I know what I must do.

“I have to take care of something,” I tell her. Maura looks up at me, her eyes holding a world of understanding. She nods, a silent gesture of support that fuels the fire within me.

“I’m going to summon the Bratva,” I declare. The words are a vow of war against those responsible for disrupting our peace and threatening my wife’s life. “We’re going to hold an emergency meeting, and I’m going to find out who’s behind this. Whoever it is will be extinguished.”

The promise hangs heavy in the room. I lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, displaying tenderness for a moment and proving my sincere feelings for her.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say, giving once last whispered promise. Then I turn and stride out of the library, my resolve tenfold as I’m hit with the realization of just how deep my feelings are for her.

We meet in the grand conference room, a space where strategies are established and where the might of the Bratva is rallied against our unseen enemies. The conference room is a testament to old-world Russian elegance—dark hardwoods and ornately carved moldings line the walls, which are filled with framed portraits of Bratva royalty. A large, imposing table sits in the center. The windows offer a sweeping view of the vast property that stretches toward the surrounding forest, which provides additional security courtesy of nature.

I pour myself a drink. The amber liquid is a temporary distraction as I wait for the others to arrive, but my thoughts invariably drift back to Maura and the secret that she’s holding so close. I trust her to reveal it in her own time; pressuring her isn’t my style.

Soon the room fills with the heart of the Bratva—Lev, Yuri, Elena, Grigori, and a cadre of trusted lieutenants, about ten in total. They file in, each wearing an expression of stoicism and readiness, prepared for whatever directives I have to give.

Once everyone’s settled, I stand, my gaze sweeping over those gathered. “The gloves are off,” I begin, my voice firm, resonant.

The room falls completely silent, the gravity of my words sinking in. This isn’t just another skirmish, another dispute to be discussed and settled. This is a battle for my wife’s safety and peace in our lives. And in this fight, I will not hold back or show any mercy.

“Prepare for war,” I declare, letting the full weight of my command settle over the room. “We will find out who’s behind these attacks on Maura, and we will make them pay.”

For Maura, for the peace she deserves, I’ll wage this war with every ounce of strength I possess. The Bratva stands united, and under my command, we’ll face down any threat. This is our vow, our unbreakable promise of retribution.