They can come.
Every mercenary, every assassin, every Bratva soldier.
Let them try.
I lean back in the chair, my gaze never leaving Elena's sleeping form.
I'll kill every last one of them.
One dead Russian at a time.
17
ELENA
Iwake to the sound of my own breathing. It catches me off guard because I'm not coughing or gasping. I'm just breathing.
My eyes open slowly, my vision adjusting to the light coming in. The bedroom slowly comes into focus.
I don't move at first. I just lie there, going over each part of my body in my head, taking stock of how I'm doing.
The nausea that's been gnawing at my stomach for days is gone. The sharp, stabbing headache that's been pulsing behind my eyes is gone, too.
The trembling, the cold sweats, the deep exhaustion, all of it is gone.
I place my hand on my chest. Even my heartbeat feels stable and not erratic anymore.
I sit up slowly, pushing the blanket off.
My skin is damp, my hair sticking to the back of my neck. The sheets beneath me are cool with sweat, like I've just broken a fever.
I glance at the nightstand and see a few towels and a bucket that thankfully is empty.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I stand and wait.
The room doesn't spin. I take a step, and then another. No wobble, no off-balance feeling, none of it.
For the first time in what feels like forever, my body feels like it belongs to me again.
I walk over to the bathroom slowly, testing my balance with each step.
The door is still splintered near the lock where Adrian forced it open days ago.
The memory rushes back. Me on the floor, vomiting until there was nothing left, Adrian kneeling beside me him holding my hair back. Me asking him to stay.
I grip the edge of the doorframe, my chest feeling tight.
And since then he's stayed by my side.
The thought twists something inside me, and I don't know if it's gratitude or shame or something darker.
I step into the bathroom and flip on the light. I catch sight of myself in the mirror above the sink and freeze.
My hair is a tangled mess, dull and lifeless where it used to shine. My skin is pale and clammy, and the dark circles under my eyes make me look sick.
My lips are cracked, and my color is gone.
I look like a damn ghost.