Page 71 of Bratva Queen

Someone knocked into me from behind, and I crashed into the staircase. My hip bumped forcefully into the wrought-iron railing, but I valiantly held on as I swayed on my feet. Then I felt another shove to my back. But this time, there was nothing I could hold on to.

My yell caught in my throat as I tumbled off the stairs. When I crashed to the floor, my head pounded as if my brain was going to leak out of my ears. For a few seconds, I almost lost consciousness. Gritting my teeth, I sat up, and stared dumbfounded at the liquid between my legs. As I pondered why I lay in a pool of blood, the world darkened.

24.

KATYA

I woke up and in a groggy haze, heard the drone of machines and a steady beeping sound. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a plain white ceiling. It was nothing like the one at Aslanov’s house, which was intricately carved woodwork.

“You’re awake.” Kristoff’s hoarse voice penetrated through the fog in my mind.

He jumped up from the chair next to my bed. A hospital bed. What was I doing in a hospital? Then the night before came crashing back into me like a tidal wave.

It was as if my body immediately synchronized with my brain, because suddenly I could feel every ache.

I winced as I tried to sit up.

“Don’t move.” Kristoff pushed a button, and my bed straightened.

“Water, please.” I was parched.

He immediately filled a cup and handed it to me. I gulped until it felt like my stomach would burst.

He took the cup and set it on a side table. His hand brushed over my cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed over.” I yawned and winced as a cut on my lower lip reopened. “How can I be sleepy after I just woke up?”

Kristoff didn’t meet my eyes, busying himself with filling the cup with more water. “You need your rest.”

He put the cup in front of me, then leaned back in his chair, elbows on his knees, and his hands propping up his head.

I moved the empty cup back to the side table. “Are you okay?”

His head snapped up. “Youare askingme?” He cursed a blue streak, then got up and paced the room.

When he finally stopped next to my bed I asked, “So, what’s the damage? I don’t see any body parts in a cast, so I’m taking that as a good sign.”

There was something wrong with Kristoff’s eyes. They were pits of fire and anguish, and a hint of something else that I couldn’t put my finger on.

I wiggled my toes, checking to see if they worked. A sigh of relief escaped me when I discovered I could move all my body parts.

“You’re freaking me out. Clearly I’m not paralyzed after my fall, so why are you looking like someone’s died?”

I caught a glint of something violent in his eyes, right before he shut it down. Then, as if he was a man resigned to his fate, he dropped back into the chair next to me.

He held my hand. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

“Yes, I fell off the stairs.” There was something else that niggled at the back of my mind, but it was like an elusive vision.

Was there a sheen of tears in his eyes? My heart rate sped up, causing anxiety.

“I am so sorry, Ekaterina. I shouldn’t have left you.”

“You shouldn’t have let me go to the bathroom by myself?” My joke fell flat, even to my own ears.

He kissed my knuckles. “Forgive me. Please forgive me.” His head fell into my lap, and I stroked his silky hair, feeling as if the other shoe was about to drop.

I swallowed the upcoming tears clogging my throat. “What else happened last night, Kristoff?”

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