Chapter 4 - The Price of Healing
The medical suite was cleaner than any hospital Elena had ever seen, equipped with state-of-the-art monitors and chrome surgical trays. She sat on the edge of the examination table, her back turned to the door, having unbuttoned the navy waistcoat and peeled down the bloody cotton of her shirt.
Dr. Rossi worked with silent, rapid efficiency. The sting of the antiseptic was followed by the sharp pinch of a needle, and slowly, the throbbing pain along her back dulled into a numb pressure.
""Seven fragments,"" Dr. Rossi murmured, dropping the bloody pieces of glass into a metal dish with sharp clinks. ""You were fortunate. Another half inch to the left, and a shard would have severed your dorsal nerve.""
""Fortunate isn't the word I'd use,"" Elena said through gritted teeth.
The door clicked open. Elena instinctively pulled the front of her shirt up against her collarbones, turning her head. Viktor walked in, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing dense black ink—ancient Roman numerals, snarling beasts, and family crests running down his thick muscle.
""Status?"" Viktor demanded, ignoring Elena’s tense posture.
""She will need a dozen stitches, Mr. Vane. Rest, and antibiotics,"" the doctor said, wiping his instruments. ""No heavy lifting for a fortnight.""
""She won't be lifting anything,"" Viktor said. He walked over, standing directly behind Elena, his dark eyes tracing the jagged red cuts across her fair skin. His breath was warm against the nape of her neck. ""Leave us, Rossi.""
The doctor bowed and exited without a word, closing the heavy door behind him.
The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken tension. Elena kept her back rigid, unwilling to show him how much his proximity affected her.
""You should have let me stay in my apartment,"" Elena said softly. ""Whatever you think you owe me, you don't. A simple thank you would have sufficed.""
Viktor’s fingers brushed the clean skin just above the fresh sutures. A shiver tore down Elena’s spine, her breath hitching in her throat.
""I do not owe you a debt, Elena. Debts are paid in cash and forgotten,"" Viktor whispered, stepping closer until she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. ""You shielded the only thing in this miserable world I care about. My blood. That does not make me your debtor. That makes you indispensable.""
""I am an ordinary person,"" she protested, turning her head to glare at him over her shoulder. ""I pour drinks. I balance trays. I am not part of your empire, and I won't be your prisoner.""
Viktor leaned down, his face a breath away from hers, his sharp jaw shadowed with evening stubble. ""You think you are ordinary? An ordinary woman would have ducked. An ordinary woman would have run. You saw the danger, and you broke yourself to keep Leo whole.""
His thumb traced the line of her jaw, tilting her face up toward his. The fierce possessiveness in his gaze was suffocating.
""Tomorrow morning, a contract will be placed in your hands. You will accept the position of Leo’s personal guardian. You will live here. You will be protected.""
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""And if I refuse?"" Elena challenged, defiance flaring in her chest.
Viktor’s lips curved into a cold, dangerous smile. ""Then you may leave this room. But remember this: the moment you step off my land, the men who shattered those glasses will collect you. And they will not be looking for an apology.""
