Page 98 of Lethal Devotion
I watch Adam carefully arrange his cars in a line, his tongue poking out in concentration. He's been happy here, I’ve seen it. He hasn’t seemed to pick up on the tension, and he loves the attention that the staff shower him with, how much extra time I have to spend with him. It’s been like a vacation for him, and I know life wouldn’t always be that way if we stayed, but it would be… better. Having Damian there for him would be better, even if Damian doesn’t believe it. “He’s good with Adam, too,” I say softly. “I wouldn’t have thought it, but he is.”
“Of course he is. I think he wanted a family, once upon a time. He just convinced himself it was impossible. He's running scared," Valentina continues. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"
"What can I do? He made it clear that he doesn't want this marriage to continue." I turn my hands palms up on my knees, frustrated. “What am I supposed to do about that?”
“You can let him know how you feel. You can keep saying it until he’s willing to hear it, until?—”
“I tried.” My jaw tightens, hurt flooding me again. “I don’t want to beg him for something he doesn’t want to give?—”
Before I can finish, the front door slams open with enough force to rattle the windows. Both Adam and I jump, but Valentina immediately tenses, her hand moving protectively to her belly. The look on her face makes my blood run cold. I hear boots in the hallway outside, security moving to see what the racket is.
Heavy footsteps echo through the foyer, and then Konstantin appears in the doorway. His usually pristine suit is torn and bloodstained, his face grim. Behind him, several of his men file in, all of them looking like they've been through hell.
"Konstantin?" Valentina rises quickly, rushing to his side. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," he says, but his eyes find mine over her head. The expression in them makes my heart stop. "Sienna, we need to talk."
"No." The word comes out as a whisper, but the certainty in my chest is deafening. "No, no, no. Where is he? Where's Damian?"
Konstantin's jaw tightens. "He's alive."
"Where is he?" My voice cracks, and I realize I'm shaking. My heart is racing painfully in my chest, all of my worst nightmares coming true in an instant.I should have said it. I should have told him…
I’m afraid it’s going to be too late.
"He’s at the hospital. He's in surgery."
The room tilts sideways, and I have to grab the back of the sofa to stay upright. Surgery. Damian is in surgery, which means he's hurt, which means he might… he might…
"I need to go to him." I'm already moving toward the door, but Konstantin steps in front of me.
"Sienna, listen to me?—"
"No!" The word comes out as a scream, and Adam looks up from his toys with wide, frightened eyes. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to speak more quietly. The last thing I want is my son scared. "No, I need to see him. I need to be there when he wakes up."
"The surgery could take hours. The doctors said?—"
"I don't care what the doctors said!" Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, but I don't care. "He's my husband, Konstantin. He's my husband, and I need to be there."
Something in my voice must convince him, because his expression softens. "Alright. Valentina, can you?—"
"I'll stay with Adam," she says immediately, already moving toward my son. "Go. Be with him."
I kiss Adam's forehead, promising him I'll be back soon, and then I'm following Konstantin out to his car. The drive to the hospital passes in a blur of city lights, my thoughts racing and my heart beating so hard it hurts, as if it’s trying to beat for both me and Damian. Konstantin tries to explain what happened—something about the Russos, a final confrontation, Damian being shot by a surviving member of the Russo men who snuck up on them—but I can barely process the words.
All I can think about is our last conversation, the look on his facewhen he walked away. What if those are the last words we ever exchange? What if he dies not knowing that I love him?
The emergency department is a chaos of bright lights and hurrying medical staff. Konstantin's name and no-nonsense demands get us through the bureaucracy faster than it should, and soon we're being led to a small waiting room outside the surgical wing.
"The bullet nicked his lung and did some damage to his ribs," the surgeon explains when she comes to update us, after a too-long wait marked by me pacing and Konstantin trying to calm me, even bringing me juice at one point from a vending machine, like a worried older brother. "But he's stable. We were able to remove the bullet and repair the damage. He's being moved to recovery now."
"Can I see him?" The words tumble out before she's even finished speaking. It’s all I can do not to rush past her and find his room myself, my every nerve jangling and raw.
"He's still unconscious from the anesthesia, but yes. One visitor at a time."
I don't wait for permission to be the first. I know Konstantin won’t argue. I follow the nurse down a hallway that smells like antiseptic, my heart hammering against my ribs. She stops outside a room with a glass door, and through it, I can see him.
Damian looks smaller somehow, lying in the hospital bed surrounded by machines. His skin is pale, his tattoos standing out in stark relief on his ashen arms and upper chest. Bandages cover his chest, and his hands rest motionless on the white sheets.
