I glare at him. “If you have something to say, just say it, Yulian.”
“I thought this girl was just a distraction,” he says. “I didn’t think she meant so much to you.”
Yeah… neither did I.
“The fact that I’m here doesn’t mean anything. You and Lev are more than capable of handling the Ivanovs on your own.”
“Jesus, brother. Come on,” he spits. “I may not be you, but I’m not stupid, either. This girl… you care about her.”
“Is that a question or an accusation?”
“Admit it, Anton.”
I glance at Jessa’s face. Her eyelashes flutter softly. She’s pale, but she looks beautiful. My chest throbs with something like pain, but not quite. Like sticking a fork in a socket. A full-body throb of sensation without a name.
I push back the stab of guilt and turn to my brother. “I don’t know what this is yet.”
“Really? Because I think I do.”
“You can leave now,” I snap. “Send the doctor in the moment he gets here.”
Yulian nods and leaves me without another word.
I sit alone with Jessa, wondering what the fuck I’m doing with her at all. Yulian is right—I should have been down there, observing the atmosphere when the Ivanov men were told their don was dead.
Killed at the hands of his own son-in-law.
But the idea of leaving Jessa’s side… it felt wrong. Still does. Like someone is pulling me in the wrong direction. Leaving Jessa’s side now reminds me of the same feeling I had on my wedding day.
“Excuse me?”
I stand up as the doctor enters. Spegal is a short, balding man with a sour expression that doesn’t inspire a lot of trust. And yet, over the years, he’s been the most loyal and reliable of the Bratva doctors my father retained. The man is pushing seventy now, but he’s as sharp as ever. I move aside so he can examine her.
“What happened?” Spegal asks, setting his bag down on the floor and moving to the bed.
“Shock,” I say. “But she was sick yesterday. Could be related.”
Dr. Spegal leans over Jessa and checks her vitals. Then he brings out the stethoscope. At one point, he raises her blouse and starts pushing his fingers into the side of her stomach.
I frown, the sudden surge of displeasure tainting my eyes with red spots. I’m glad that Spegal is an older man. And I happen to know he’s a family man to boot. That’s the only thing stopping me from grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from my woman.
I stiffen. My woman. The thought is like a bucket of cold water dumped down my back.
I can’t deny I’ve felt protective over Jessa in the past. But this is different. It’s possessive, in a way I’ve never felt before.
“Well?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from the conflict roiling inside me. “What is it?”
“I can’t say anything definitive right now,” he says, turning to me. “I can do a more thorough checkup when she’s awake.”
“How long will that be?”
“Hard to say. You said it was shock that caused her to faint?” he asks.
“I shot someone in front of her,” I admit.
“That’ll do it,” he says, though there’s no inflection in his tone. He might as well be talking about the weather. Bratva doctors are a hardy, trustworthy bunch.
“But I’m thinking this is because she’s been sick,” I say.