Cruel Enforcer by Maggie Cole

33

Kora

A loud beepannoyingly pulls me out of my sleep, drawing my attention to the horrible headache pounding in my skull. It's dark. There's a faint glow, but the light from the hallway is bright.

I groggily turn my head away from it and smile.

Sergey's hands are over my arm. His head is on top of them. I reach for his hair and tousle it. He slowly raises his head.

"Hey," I barely get out. My mouth is dry, and my throat feels like a crack is going through it.

His brown eyes glisten. He puts his lips on my hand and takes a few shaky breaths.

"Baby, are you okay?" I ask.

He rises and slides in bed with me. "You had me so worried."

"I'm okay. But..." I glance around. "Why am I in the hospital? And why does my head feel like a Mack truck drove into it?"

He tugs me closer to him. "Boyra's thug fell on you when you shot him. You have a concussion from hitting your head when he landed on you. You went into shock when we got to the hospital."

I stare at Sergey, and a chill runs through me. "I-I killed them both?"

He nods. "You saved us both, my little piranha."

I reach for his face. "I thought they were going to..." I swallow hard, and my body trembles. I put my hand on his chest. "How bad is the cut?"

He shakes his head. "It's not deep. I'm fine." He kisses my forehead.

I snuggle closer to him. "You're nice and warm. Can we go home?"

"They said we had to keep you here for observation due to your shock, but hopefully tomorrow we can go home." He opens his mouth then shuts it.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I can't believe Igor was with the Petrovs. I've known him forever and..." He takes a shaky breath. "You could have been killed. Twice in one day. I...fuck."

I stroke his cheek. "Shh. I'm fine."

"I've been sitting here, wondering how I protect you from all this. If people I trust have turned against me, how do I keep you safe? I've pulled you into this world of sick, sadistic, toxic chaos, and I hate myself for it."

I roll into him further. "Don't do this."

His jaw spasms under my fingers.

"I love you. Don't try to throw me away."

He looks at the ceiling and sniffs hard. "That's the thing, Kora. I'm a selfish man. You shouldn't be around me. There's no way I'm ever escaping this life. Every time I think it's over, something else pops up. And I sat here with my mind spinning, trying to figure out how to let you go, but I can't. The thought alone makes me feel like I can't breathe. It's not right. You deserve so much better—"

I put my fingers over his lips. "If you let me go, I would die. The only person who's ever truly loved me is you. I don't take it for granted. What we have isn't replaceable. What you give me isn't something I can get from anyone else. And I would rather go through hell and back with you than be without you."

His heart beats faster against my hand.

I peck him on the lips. "You confirmed they are both dead?"

"Yes. Darragh dealt with the police. They won't be questioning you."

I stay silent, letting the power of Sergey's statement sink in.

His fingers brush my hips. "How did you know how to shoot a gun?"

My pulse quickens. "When my brother got shot, I took lessons. I went to the gun range for years, but it started to feel a bit unhealthy. I obsessed over it. So I put my gun in my safe and forgot about it."

"You were amazing. Strong. Brave. A total piranha," he says, and his lips form into a grin.

"Do you know what I thought when you first called me a piranha?"

"No. What?"

"That you would break me for fun."

A line forms between his eyes. He shakes his head. "I thought you were the sexiest woman I'd ever met. I love you're a piranha." His face turns serious. "You don't seem fazed you killed two men."

"Should I be?"

"No. I want to make sure you're okay though."

My lungs feel tighter. "They tried to hurt you. They would have done who knows what to me. The world is a better place without them."

He scans my face and nods. "I agree."

"I should have killed Boyra sooner for making me drop your soup on the floor," I joke.

He snorts. "I was looking forward to your soup."

"I'll make some this week."

"You're going to make the best wife."

I put my hand on his chest and stare at it. Panic fills me. "Oh no! I must have lost my ring."

He chuckles. "Nope. The nurse was kind enough to bring it to me." He dips his hand in his pocket and removes it. He slides it on my finger.

I sigh in relief. "Thank goodness. I love this ring."

Pride appears. "The moment I saw it, I knew it was perfect for you."

"Hey, what's the inscription mean?"

He takes my hand and holds it to his heart. "My lapa, you are mine to love forever. Don't ever forget."

I smile and blink my tears away. "I love it."

He holds my face and kisses me. It's raw and tender. Possessive and dominant as always. Every kiss breathes life into me. Each hungry flick of his tongue holds promises of our future. He's everything I never had and everything I've always wanted.

The city of Chicago knows me as Kora Kilborn, divorce attorney for wealthy women. The only title I crave for others to know me as is Mrs. Sergey Ivanov. I want him for life. He's the strongest, sexiest man I know.

Others tried to break him, but he never let them, even as a boy. And any remaining shattered piece of his past, I'll try to repair. It's what he does for me every day. He takes every little shard of pain or feeling of disappointment and glues it back together.

"When can we get married?" I ask.

His lips twitch. "As soon as you want."

"And how many people do we have to invite?"

"As long as you're there, I don't care about any of the details. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams."

I stroke his jawline. "It already is. I'm marrying you."