Melissa
"Careful, guys. The bad bitch is back."
There was no light in the world. Only darkness. The same one that has followed me all my life.
I had never thought much about death before, even though it had always been right behind me. I just lingered nearby, but never too close, so thoughts of it never occupied my mind. Like many others, I believed that on the threshold between life and death, a person would surely see a blinding white light showing them the way.
That is a lie.
Believe me, I've been to the other side. But the light pouring from the window into my eyes was blinding for sure. I had no idea where I was or what I was doing here. Only fragments of the past remained fresh, replaying in my mind. I remembered everything that had happened until the darkness swallowed me. I had messed up. I had screwed up badly.
The last memory I had was our fight with Lilith, or more precisely, how she fiercely tried to convince me that my children would remain trapped in a web of lies. She must have overheard my conversation with Alex and jumped to conclusions. She didn't give herself a chance to think it through and then she shot me.
Damn. That woman shot me.
This is madness. Not the craziest thing in my life, of course, but it would have been a shame to die at the hands of such a woman. At the hands of a psychopath.
I'm a psychopath too. I never denied it. But still, she is not like me. If I shot, I did it consciously. I knew what I was doing. The only times I attacked someone unconsciously were because of Roman. But Lilith? I could still hear her scream when my body hit the floor.
Lilith used Alex's gun, the one he had taught me to shoot with long before Roman, in case I needed to defend myself. That's exactly what I did every time I pulled the trigger. I defended myself. My honor. But this time the bullet hit me.
As terrible as it was, what hurt more was that for the first time in my life, I hadn't anticipated my enemy's move. However, I deserved it: because I had given in to emotions. That was my mistake.
"Think about your enemy's thoughts, not about the mess in your own head," my brother used to whisper to me every time my hand shook while holding a weapon.
Nevertheless, I should have acted that way. And I would have done it again and again, even if I couldn't survive every time. Because at that moment, I knew my children had to be with me. They were scared. They were terrified. And most importantly, they wanted to leave with me. That was what mattered most.
But how, for God's sake, did I end up here? I only remembered falling. And then...Roman. He was there too. But how? I could swear it was just my imagination. He wasn't supposed to be there. But I also remembered his warm hands on my cold skin. I said something, and he...he said something too... I was saying goodbye. At one point, I really thought death would be the best way out.
Dying would have been easier, right? So much, much easier. Maybe there, in hell, I could have been weak. There wouldn't be so many bastards, traitors, and other filth that suddenly surfaced, dragging me deeper into the abyss. But clearly, something inside me didn't allow me to give up so easily.
Melissa Kirillova is not like that. She is strong, brave, puts men on their knees, and can easily avoid death. I now have two scars on my body. One because three beautiful creatures came into this world, and the other because of the monster who raised them. I am not weak.
In fact, everyone is strong. We survive every day, learning, working to gain knowledge and food. We sleep, we move, all to ensure our many organs function properly, especially the most important one â the heart. I closed my eyes again, feeling dizzy.
But there are people who choose the path of self-pity and weakness. I didn't judge them. In fact, if they didn't exist, everyone would be the same. No one would see strength in you if everyone were equal. So everything always depends on ourselves. But the most terrible thing is that I didn't feel relieved when I woke up. I didn't know why.
Maybe because now I had two traitors behind me, one of them my brother, and the other unknown, since calling foolish Leia a traitor would be foolish. And then there was Roman. The man who crushed my heart, but I was grateful for it. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have become who I am today. Yes, I hate him, but I knew that part of me came back to this world because of him. Because, damn it, I was constantly drawn to him.
And the other part came back because of the triplets. I didn't know how to explain it, but I loved them. With all my heart. Maybe I would always just be Aunt Mel to them, but I had no intention of leaving them in that house.
I woke up a few minutes ago and realized I was in a hospital room because the ceiling could only belong to a hospital. My body was covered in tubes, my mouth and nose under an oxygen mask. I felt heavy and tired, as if I had spent hours at the gym. My head hurt, my mouth was dry.
I took off the mask and tried to sit up. A sharp pain shot through my left side, making me quickly rethink that decision. My abdomen was bandaged. I wanted to remove the bandages and see the wound right under my heart. I wanted to see the hole that likely matched my heart. The tattoo, the wound, and the same hole â my heart. It would always be my curse.
Because of thirst and dryness in my mouth, I had to reach for the water bottle standing on the nightstand next to the bed. Unsuccessfully. I barely touched the bottle with my fingers, and it fell to the floor, rolling towards the door. Damn. Then I saw some movement in the corner of the room. I turned my head and saw him.
"Dean?" I rasped.
"Mel..." He quickly opened his eyes, stood up from the chair, and approached the couch. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Do I look that terrible?" I joked, still feeling weak.
"A little."
"I don't know what annoys me more, the fact that you can't joke, or that I don't even want to kill you."
"We swore eternal friendship, remember?" He sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Your Majesty."
I wanted to laugh, but feeling the pain again, I changed my mind. It seemed like there was a lot I couldn't do now. I didn't like it.
"Dean..."
I was about to ask him to pass me the water, but the door suddenly opened. I tried to sit up again to be ready for any surprise, though without any weapon in hand, not even the damn bottle, there was no chance of dealing with an enemy. Especially in this state. Even my brother now was my enemy.
A dark-haired man in a white coat entered the room. I realized he was a doctor and relaxed a little.
"Mrs. Kirillova, you're awake!"
The man was clearly pleased with my awakening. His eyes, hidden behind thick glasses, gleamed. He walked over to the monitor beside the bed, checked the readings, and glanced at Dean.
"Sorry, but you have to leave."
"Alright." Dean stood up and kissed me on the forehead. "I'll be back soon, my little killer." I smiled faintly at him and watched him quickly leave the room.
"Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?" I looked at the doctor again.
"My mouth is dry. My head is splitting," I replied hoarsely.
The man picked up the bottle, opened the cap, and helped me take a few sips. But it wasn't enough. I felt like I hadn't had anything to drink for an eternity.
"Take it slow. Little by little, so your body can adjust. By the way, I'm Dr. Sterling, your attending physician." He smiled and stood opposite the bed. "So, Mrs. Kirillova, you've survived a major surgery." After a brief pause, he continued. "We had to literally pull you from the jaws of death. Your condition has stabilized now. Full recovery will take a lot of work, but your vital organs weren't affected, even though the bullet came within a few inches of your heart. You're a lucky person, Miss. But I prefer to think you were lucky to have a guardian angel." I snorted. Seriously? A guardian angel? More like a devil.
As I processed what he said, Dr. Sterling looked at me as if he knew something I didn't. But he said nothing, even though I was sure there was something more he could or wanted to say.
"You'll need to stay here for a few more days under observation, and then you'll need time for rehabilitation. It will take a while, but with your spirit, I believe you'll be back on your feet soon."
"How did I end up here?" I still wasn't sure if the voices and hands I remembered were real or a figment of my imagination. Had my brother saved me?
"You were airlifted here in critical condition." What helicopter?
"What hospital are we in?"
"Manhattan Hospital, Miss."
What the hell happened? Who could have brought me here? I didn't understand anything, because everyone seemed like traitors. These questions swirled in my head, but one thing interested me the most.
"Was I alone?" A stupid question, I know.
"No."
My heart started racing. My pulse quickened, causing one of the monitor's sensors to beep. Dr. Sterling glanced at the device's screen and then back at me:
"Your brother brought you here. No one else. But he hasn't been seen since. Only your friend has stayed by your side, practically living in your room."
"And how long have I been here?" I frowned.
"A week."
Where the hell is Roman? Did he just leave, or decide not to show up at all? Probably, or rather, I'm sure he chose to stay out of the picture when I needed him the most. The last hope for any understanding crumbled with the doctor's words. I almost didn't doubt that I had heard his voice before passing out completely. But it seemed those were hallucinations.
Perhaps, injured as I was, I was no longer of any use to his plan. At least I hoped my girls were safe now, hoped they weren't scared because I hadn't returned as promised. That Alex hadn't done something even more foolish.
"Mrs. Kirillova, we had to induce a coma, so you need to rest. Sleep and let your body recover. At one point, we nearly lost you." He looked at me through his thick glasses. "Your heart stopped for several seconds, but you found the strength to come back. I don't know what or who pulled you from the brink, but that's something to think about later. Sleep." He crossed the room and disappeared behind the door.
He was wrong. I was dead. Dead, and still am. My head still swam in the fog as I slipped back into darkness.
This time, I woke up because I needed to use the bathroom. And I was starving. It was already dark outside, and there was no one in the room. Though who was I expecting to see? Maybe Dean had finally gone home after making sure I was awake.
It took me immense effort to get out of bed. After five attempts, when I managed not to collapse back onto the bed, I made my way to the closet, hoping to find my clothes, but they weren't there. Just a folded blanket, a spare pillow, and a few bottles of water. In the hospital gown, which barely reached the middle of my thighs and hardly covered my backside, I dragged myself to the door and froze by the entrance.
I had nothing else on. Just the hospital gown and...God...a diaper! Never in my life had I felt as humiliated as I did now. Did they really think I'd use this thing? No way.
My bare feet touched the cold floor, and I leaned my hands on the door, feeling dizzy as I exhaled and looked through the small window in the door.
The hallway was empty. At least I saw no one.
"Where is everyone?" I whispered.
But then I saw Dean's concerned face as he slowly opened the door, and I collapsed onto him.
"What the hell are you doing?" His strong arms caught me, and I looked at him. His face had changed. There was stubble on his jaw, and dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't left. Dean hadn't left.
"I..." I blinked. "I'm going to the bathroom."
"But you have..."
"Don't you dare say it." I straightened up and grumbled angrily. "I will never in my life use that thing, so either take me to the bathroom, or I'll throw myself out of the window before I ever do it. In that thing!"
"Alright, tigress, I get it. You're starting to recover." He widened his eyes but turned and took my arm. I leaned on him. "Let's go, but carefully, or your stitches will tear."
I nodded. Following my friend's directions, I hobbled towards the bathroom, barely moving my bare feet over the cold floor, which seemed to grow colder with each step.
Every step, every movement brought pain, and my dizziness grew worse. He led me to the women's bathroom. "I can walk you in."
"No, I'll do it myself," I said firmly.
"Okay, I'll be right here."
My fingers gripped the door handle, and I opened it. Leaning on the wall, my hand slid across it. Once inside the stall, I quickly finished my business. Skipping the details. I quickly removed the diaper and threw it into the trash can.
Damn.
I wrapped the hospital gown around myself tighter, hoping it covered me enough. Moving at a snail's pace, I washed my hands, and once I was sure my body was somewhat covered, I made my way to the door. My hand left the wall and touched the door just as I heard Dean's voice through the wall.
"No, Natasha, he hasn't been here anymore. He left that same day when he disappeared from the penthouse." I held my breath and listened. "Don't call me an American bastard!" he muttered. "God, just come see her tomorrow, it's already late." Another pause. "Got it, I got it, if anything happens to her, you'll kill me with a ladle."
I slowly raised my head and opened the door. The door frame made a good support to forget the pain for a moment. Dean turned sharply.
"Calm down, Lin. I'll call you back." He quickly pocketed his phone and was about to approach me, but I raised my hand.
"Stay where you are."
"Mel..."
"Stay."
I gathered all my strength and, hunching over, walked down the hallway, motioning for him to follow me with a finger. "Now come with me." The man immediately fell silent at the sound of my voice. I'd never spoken to him like that before, but he'd heard it before. And he knew better than to argue.
If the doctor lied, then why? I understood that Dean probably did something too. Yes, we hadn't talked much since I woke up, but he clearly got scared when he realized I had heard everything. Something was wrong, and I intended to find out what exactly.
So, holding my side, I moved forward while he followed behind me.
"Mel, I understand your emotions, but you're barely standing." I didn't get what he was implying before my legs were suddenly in the air. I squeaked when he picked me up like a bride.
"Put me down right now." But he didn't listen. We moved much faster than before.
"I couldn't care less. You can kill me later, but I won't forgive myself if your stitches come undone." I went quiet when I realized this man actually cared about me.
Dean and I moved down the corridor to the room. His hand was on my back, and the other was holding my legs. A nurse saw us on the way, but she quickly lowered her head and hurried past, pretending not to notice us. Yes, I had a lot to figure out.
The doors swung open, and Dean quickly walked into the now familiar room and placed me on the bed. I quickly covered myself with the blanket and glared at him.
"Sit in the chair, Dean," I growled.
"As you wish, my lady," he said with an eye roll as I watched him move.
"Now, talk."
"About what?" He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair.
"Where's Roman?"
"No one knows." He shrugged. "He's gone."
"What do you mean, 'gone'?"
"No one's seen him for a week." I narrowed my eyes. "But yes, he was here for two days. During your surgery and..."
"And what?"
"And I sent him away."
"Forgive me, but I don't believe someone like him would just leave because of you."
"You're right." Dean nodded slowly. "Most likely, your brother influenced him. I honestly don't know, but when I told him to really say goodbye to you, he stayed by your side for a while and then left."
"And he hasn't been back at the penthouse?" I guessed.
"Yes, that's what they told me. I haven't left your side, but Natasha and Lin keep calling."
I grimaced and placed my hand on my stomach. No one will ever know what went through the mind of a man like my husband.
"And Alex disappeared the same day?"
"Yes, he was in your room for a while and then left too." I squeezed my eyes shut even harder.
"This is bad. This is really, really bad." I lifted my head. "But why on earth did you decide to protect me from him?"
"Because it's his fault you're here?"
"What?"
"If you hadn't been near him again, that psycho wouldn't have shot you." His voice rose.
"That's not true," I argued.
"No, it is!"
"Dean, I'm here because I never chose a side." I decided to keep silent about the children.
"About what?" He frowned now.
"I've always been between them, you understand? My brother is with the Italian mafia. My..." I paused because it felt strange to say this out loud. "My husband is Russian. Roman's Bratva and Alex's Camorra were on the verge of war, but then I appeared and became the wall."
"Then why? If it was so dangerous for you?"
"Because I didn't want either of them to die."
"But why are you worrying now? About him?"
"Because I have to see him. I need my husband!" I truly felt like something was wrong.
"I thought he was a bastard to you."
"You're right. But it's up to me to decide who he is to me. Because I hate him. And it's our obsession."
I saw how he tried to grasp my words as if he had heard something similar before. But just as he opened his mouth, the door swung open again. We both quickly turned our heads. My jaw almost dropped. Lin entered, her face angry, but it wasn't her that surprised me. I saw Misha. It was really him. The last time I saw him was on the day of my escape, but now his large frame barely fit through the doorway as he silently followed Roman's sister inside.
"Misha?"
"Miss Kirillova." His lips curved into a slight smile on his cold expression.
"Hey, it's been a long time, but the rules are still the same." I clicked my tongue.
"True. My apologies, Melissa."
"Things are really, really bad!" Lin interrupted us. "There's no time." She paced back and forth, confirming my fears.
"Lin!" Dean shouted and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her onto his lap. "Quiet down and settle, kitten."
The girl swallowed and breathed heavily but said nothing more.
"What happened, Misha?" I looked at him.
"Since you left... I became Mr. Kirillov's assistant."
"Go on, Misha." I nodded to Dean, signaling him to continue whispering something to Lin to keep her from interfering. Confident that no one else here spoke Russian, Misha continued in his native language.
"Melissa, a week ago, Roman started preparing for war with your brother. Linda called me because she couldn't figure out where her brother was. I just told her that he was at the mansion, at the Bratva's residence, but she's not stupid. I learned from her that you were here. I decided you might be able to stop them."
"The reason?" I replied in my Russian-accented language.
He frowned. "You."
"And how does he plan to start a war?"
I knew many ways. You could simply kill the leader, storm into someone else's house, but the worst was when enemies made deals...
"A deal. Right now. Your brother will soon arrive at the mansion. I wouldn't go against my boss, but we're already at a loss because of an unknown traitor."
"Are you sure the reason is me?"
He nodded. "I'm sure. Roman said you would either become his completely, or he would die." I felt the anger rise in my veins. Seriously? So, these two bastards decided to use my injury?
"I have to go to him!" I screamed in English. "I have to go to them. Now."
"But... Mel... you're completely naked under the hospital gown," Dean warned me.
"And what? Why would my bare ass bother you so much?" I looked at the guys and at Lin.
"No, but if we see your ass, Mr. Kirillov will definitely start a war. Not with your brother, but with us," Misha muttered in English too.
"That would be a different problem. Right now, I don't care! That's an order, Misha." I looked at him. If necessary, I would start the war myself. But no one would start a war because of me as long as I was alive.
Because I'm not a pawn in someone's chess game.
I'm the queen, and although kings can move in any direction, it's only one square.
Without usâwithout queensâthey're nothing.