Page 70 of Owned By The Bratva King

“Quinn, are you alright?” she asks, her voice full of concern.

I nod, wiping the tears away. “I’m fine, Carrie. Overwhelmed, I guess. Roman did something incredible yet again, and I don’t understand why. What does he even see in me?”

She smiles, a knowing look in her eyes. “He loves you. That much is clear. But love is a complex thing. It’s beautiful but will lay bare the best and worst in both of you. You must stick together and be honest with each other if you want to make it last.”

“I know.” We reach the bed, and I flip the blanket so she can sit on the mattress. “It’s a whole new world. His life is complicated, and now so is mine.”

She takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “Life always is, my dear. But trust is the foundation; without it, a good thing can wither and die.”

I remove Carrie’s house slippers and lift her legs onto the bed. She always had sore, cracked heels when I saw her at Two Pines. It’s a classic hallmark of the near-bedridden, but now they look far better. It’s extraordinary what high-quality palliative care can do.

Her eyes are already closing. I dim the lamp on the nightstand and kiss her forehead. “I was wondering,” I say. “You mentioned you had two wishes, and Roman granted them both. One was to get this house back, but what was the other?”

“To know my Quinn was adored by someone,” she murmurs. “It’s all over him like a suntan, sweetheart. To Roman, every love song is about you.”

I smile and kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back soon,” I whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Despite her tiredness, her voice is light. “Don’t count me out just yet, my Quinn. Right until the moment I die, I’m alive. And I promise you, when I go, you’ll be smiling.”

I think about Carrie’s words as we drive back to the city.

Before I met Roman, I wasn’t living. I was existing, getting by, putting one foot in front of the other. My aspirations were dreams, not goals; I had no plan.

My uncle saw the raw wound of my grief at the loss of my parents and ground dirt into it, destroying what little self-esteem I had. By the time I ran away from home, I’d forgotten who I was.

It’s funny, but things are coming back to me—things I haven’t thought about in years. My dad, before the drugs, when he had a day job and a spring in his step. Mom, when she had nothing to do except love us. We three were a team—a family.

I suppressed these memories. Buried them deep for fear of being overwhelmed by the pain. But Roman came along and did something to me.

His obsessive adoration shone a beam into every dark corner and forced the real Quinn into the light. The girl who knew love and could know it again.

The more I saw myself through his eyes, the more I wanted to live up to his perception. He drew out the person I was before trauma and abuse bludgeoned me into numbness.

“You changed me.” I glance at him. “You know that, right?”

He shakes his head. “I only reminded you, rusalka. You were your strong, kind, wonderful self all along.” Mirth creeps into his tone. “Although Mrs. Kazanova is one hundred percent my creation.”

“Seriously, though. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a weight to his words. “I have to ask you something. I have experience, so I know what I’m looking at, but I wondered—do you see what’s happening with Carrie?”

I turn my face to the window. “I see it but don’t know exactly what it means.”

“She’s dying.” I feel Roman’s warm hand on my thigh. “She’s losing ground, and fast.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s not as though I couldn’t figure this out for myself, but to be confronted with it is hard to bear.

“Be angry with me if you must,” Roman says, “but you have to face it, or you deny Carrie her truth, and that’s not acceptable, not when she’s about to leave this world.”

I slip my hand into his, and he squeezes it. “Visit her as much as you can, Quinn. There will always be a car available. I’ll come with you or won’t—it’s up to you. But don’t waste time lying to yourself, or you’ll regret it.”

“I’m not angry,” I say, my voice cracking. “You’re right, but I wish so much that I could change it.”

“If it were in my power, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to save Carrie’s life, but I can’t.” Roman’s brow furrows. “I hate that I have no way to take your pain away, but I’m here for you, always.”

I unlock my apartment door and head into the kitchen, only to slip and fall flat on my ass. Roman bursts out laughing as he picks me up.

“Sorry, moya zhena, but that was hilarious.” He brushes me down. “You alright? Where did all this water come from?”

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