Page 28 of The Mafia's Fake Wife

I call Valeriya. “She’s at the hospital. She went with the ambulance.”

“Sir, I?—”

“Meet me there.”

I hang up and direct my driver to change course. Relief mingles with anger in my veins. She’s safe, but she left her security behind without a thought. Twenty minutes later, I stride through the emergency department doors. The hospital staff recognize me from my previous visits with Anton. A nurse points me toward a treatment room without my having to ask.

Through the glass partition, I see Elena. She’s wearing borrowed scrubs, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She moves with confidence among the medical team, handing instruments to a doctor and monitoring vital signs. She belongs here, her face animated with purpose.

I stand watching her for several minutes. She’s completely absorbed in her work, unaware of my presence or the security breach she’s caused. This is her world—the one she fought so hard to stay in.

When the team stabilizes the patient, Elena steps back, speaking quietly with the attending physician. The doctor nods,impressed by whatever she’s saying. Finally, she turns and sees me through the glass. Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t appear alarmed. She says something to the doctor, then walks toward me, removing her gloves.

“Damir,” she says, approaching me in the hallway. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” My voice is somehow controlled. “You disappeared from a public mall without informing your security detail.”

She blinks, genuinely confused. Then realization dawns on her face. “Oh, my god. Valeriya and Fydor. I completely forgot about them.”

“You… forgot?”

“There was an emergency. Mr. Abramson collapsed with cardiac arrest. If I hadn’t started CPR immediately?—”

“You could have told them where you were going.”

“There wasn’t time,” she says. “Every second counted, and once we got him in the ambulance, I was focused on keeping him stable.”

I step closer, lowering my voice. “Do you understand what could have happened? You vanished in a crowded mall. My enemies?—”

“I know, I know.” She runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about any of that. When I see someone in medical distress, everything else just disappears.”

I study her face. She’s genuinely apologetic, yet I can tell she’d do exactly the same thing again if presented with thesame circumstances. “Is he stable?” I ask, nodding toward the treatment room.

“Yes. They’re admitting him to cardiology.” Her expression softens. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I didn’t say I understood.” I check my watch. “Are you finished here?”

She nods. “Let me change back into my clothes.”

Ten minutes later, we’re in my car, heading back to the penthouse. Elena sits beside me, her shopping bags recovered by Fydor, who now follows in a separate vehicle with Valeriya. The silence between us is heavy.

“You’re angry,” says Elena finally.

“Yes.”

“Because I broke protocol.”

“Because you could have been killed.” I turn to face her. “Do you understand what would happen if someone recognized you as my wife? The target that puts on your back?”

She stares out the window. “I didn’t think?—”

“No, you didn’t.”

We don’t speak again until we reach the penthouse. The elevator ride up is tense, Elena fidgeting with the strap of her purse. When the doors open, she walks straight to the kitchen, filling a glass with water.

I remove my jacket, watching her. She’s avoiding the confrontation, but we need to have this conversation.

“Elena.”

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