Doctored Vows - Chapter 30

“It’s quiet.”

I follow Alla’s scan of the near-empty OR while replying, “It is.” I return my eyes front and center. “I guess we shouldn’t complain.”

I pluck another donut hole out of the packet like I haven’t eaten half a dozen already and pop it into my mouth. “We might have had to skip Donut Hole Thursday if we were still rushed off our feet like last month.”

“By rushed off your feet, do you mean swept off your feet? Because from what I heard, you practically rode out of here on a white horse after your husband’s my wife rant last month.”

I chew my donut to mush, hopeful my gnaws will hide my smile.

When it only increases Alla’s suspiciousness, I say, “You heard about that?”

“Ah… yeah. Everyone did.” She leans in close so her following words are only for my ears. “I heard a few of the nurses used it for inspo.” When I peer at her, lost, she makes vibrator noises Zoya would be proud of.

Hiding my jealousy is more challenging than my coyness, but I give it my best shot. “Are you sure you were born here?” I ask, certain I am staring at Zoya’s twin. Alla is a couple of years older, but her maturity level perfectly aligns with Zoya’s. “They say everyone has a doppelgänger, but this is getting spooky.”

“I wish I were born anywhere but here, but we’re not all that lucky.” She bumps me with her shoulder. “I’m still waiting for that invite, though.”

“It’s coming,” I assure her. “Zoya has been tied up with her sister’s wedding, but with that only two days away, she’ll be back on deck full-time first thing Monday.”

When she snags the last donut hole from the packet, I scrunch up the evidence of our piggish carb fest, then toss it into the trash. It rims the trash can before breaking through it.

I celebrate the victory with an internal jig, but Alla leaps into the air with her arms held high like I scored the game-winning point. “Why aren’t you celebrating?”

I shrug before replying, “I reserve my cheers for real victories.”

“Like when you learned Dr. Abdulov got his just desserts?”

I love Alla like a sister, but my feelings for Maksim exceed that. “Dr. Abdulov’s disappearance is still under investigation. No one knows what happened to him. He could still be alive.”

“Come on. You don’t truly believe that, right?”

I must be learning the skill of deceit, because she looks surprised when I say, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because he was a terrible man, and sometimes karma does more than bite.” She eyeballs me for several uncomfortable seconds before she whispers, “You don’t know.”

“Know what?” I can no longer blame a lack of sleep for my daftness. Maksim ensures I am so sexually exhausted every night that I’ve been getting seven-plus hours each day. So I place the blame on sugar overload.

Alla returns to her seat next to me and says, “Dr. Abdulov was facing multiple malpractice suits before he disappeared. The claims against him were horrific. Families of his victims weren’t solely accusing him of medical negligence. They said he murdered their loved ones.”

“What?” That’s it. That is all I can get out.

He’s a doctor who recited the Hippocratic oath.

Murder should not be in his vocabulary.

I don’t think I can be more shocked, but Alla makes a quick liar out of me. “Investigations took off when a handful of his patients’ bodies were exhumed. Several were missing organs. Not all of them were registered donors.” She leans in so close her breaths bead condensation on my cheek. “He was playing God. Picking and choosing who got organs and who didn’t. I’ve heard rumors that money exchanged hands.” She huffs. “It wasn’t small change either.”

It takes almost a minute for me to absorb the facts, and even then, my struggle to sort through them is heard in my tone. “I haven’t heard a single murmur about this.”

And I lose the ability to deliberate further on Alla’s confession when my cell phone buzzes. It is from Ano, asking if I will be much longer.

Ano:

The jet is fueled and ready to go. Maksim is already on board.

While nodding like he can see me, I reply.

Me:

On my way down now.

Too curious for my own good, and another emotion I can’t quite understand, I say to Alla, “I need to go, but can you keep me updated on anything you hear?”

She immediately nods. “Sure, although I doubt I’ll hear much. Things went quiet when Dr. Abdulov went missing.”

“Still, I’d like to be kept abreast.”

She nods like she understands my request has nothing to do with being nosy. “Anything I hear, you’ll hear.”

I smile in gratitude before exiting the storage room where hospital equipment is sterilized. With my shock so high, it takes everything I have not to stop by the computer in the almost desolate OR to do some research on Dr. Abdulov’s former patients, but since I truly believe I will get more answers from my husband than a computer program, I return to the underground parking lot like my blood pressure isn’t so sky high it is seen on my face.

“You all right?” Ano asks while opening the back passenger door of the SUV for me.

I jerk up my chin before replying, “I’m just dying to see Maksim.”

Since it isn’t a lie, it doesn’t sound like one.

Maksim is on a call when I enter the private jet, so I mouth that I’m going to change out of my scrubs.

He tells his caller to wait, his tone clipped and full of authority, before he says to me, “Wait until after takeoff.” Heat treks through my veins when he drags his eyes down my body in a long and dedicated sweep. I don’t care what Zoya says. Maksim is more obsessed with my scrubs, makeup-free face, and messy bun than any designer dress she could force me into. “Then I can scrub the filth from your skin with my tongue.”

I roll my eyes like I loathe his neediness before I plop into the first recliner I see and latch my belt.

“Thank you,” I praise the flight attendant, who places down a glass of champagne for me. She isn’t the same flight attendant as last time, although she is just as attractive.

“Double whiskey neat,” Maksim requests from the flight attendant a second after sitting next to me and gathering my hand in his. It is always the same hand. The one with the gigantic diamond my fingers struggle to hold up. “Before you ask, she would have more interest in you than me.” His jaw tics, exposing his jealousy. “Mercifully for her, Slatvena is as possessive as I am.”

It is the wrong time to smile, but I can’t help it. I love his possessiveness. I just wish it didn’t arrive with a ton of protectiveness that could take him away from me.

“I wasn’t worried.” I am honest, hopeful it will see him doing the same. “I was just wondering what happened to your last flight crew.”

Maksim waits for the flight attendant to place his whiskey on the table in front of us before he twists his torso to face me. He stares at me for several long seconds, making my skin slick with sweat. “Is there something you want to know, Doc?”

When I sheepishly nod, he waves his hand across his body, giving me unrestricted access to the floor. It is the prime opportunity to ask him about Dr. Abdulov and his Trudny District counterpart, but you’ll never triumph a wolf if you go straight for the kill shot. The slow, smart hunt always yields results, so it is the tactic I’ll use.

“What happened to your last flight crew?”

Maksim takes a generous gulp of whiskey before the rattles of the jet whizzing down the runway can spill a drop, and licks the remnants from his lips before replying, “Although I don’t believe they deserved another cent from me, they were offered a redundancy package.”

“Because?” I ask, feeling like his answer is unfinished.

“Because although they were out of line”—his stare is almost too much. It is needy and lusty but also pronged with admiration—“you’ve proven time and time again that words can’t hurt you, so I offered a rare leniency.”

I smile, thanking him for his honesty before sliding toward home plate. “I was informed today that Dr. Abdulov was under investigation for multiple malpractice suits.” His lack of surprise indicates he was aware of his impending charges. “Is that why you…?” I still struggle to place him and murder in the same sentence.

“Yes,” he answers after a beat, his voice barely heard over the roar of the jet’s engine as it launches us into the air. “And despite the look you’re giving me, I would do it again in a heartbeat if I was forced to go back.”

“I’m not looking at you differently.” I am, but not in the way he is thinking. “I’m just trying to understand.” I scoot closer until our thighs brush. “If the law was already investigating the matter, why not wait until they reached a verdict before responding?”

“Because that isn’t how things work in my industry. We’re governed by a different set of rules.” He seems more displeased by his reply than pleased.

His eyes snap to me when I say, “Mafia law?” I smile at his shock before muttering, “Not every book I read is fictionally based.” I sink back to my side of our shared seat before releasing a slow, long breath. “A Bratva entity took my mother. When my father was sentenced to life, but they got away with their crimes with nothing more than a slap on the wrist, I researched them and anyone associated with them.” Tears burn my eyes when I recall how unjust both my mother’s and father’s cases were. “They convicted my father because they said they had no evidence that my mother was assaulted.” My voice cracks even though it is barely a whisper. “They lied. I took the samples myself. There was trauma no woman should ever face, and multiple indicators that exposed there was more than one assailant.”

When I can’t hold back my sob, Maksim undoes my belt and plucks me from my seat. A handful of tears splash onto his shirt, but for the most part, I keep it together.

It is a challenging feat.

Even more so when Maksim mutters, “The men who took your mother were not Bratva.” He holds on tight when I try to wiggle out of his clutch, refusing eye contact. “They were part of a crime syndicate that worked out of the hospital that denied Stefania’s operation. The same syndicate working out of Myasnikov Private until a few weeks ago.”

The sheer bewilderment in my tone can’t be missed. “But my father… he killed the men responsible.”

“No,” Maksim denies. “He killed the men who raped your mother and left her for dead.” His heart thumps against my ear. “I killed the man who let her injuries overcome her before convincing her daughter that her legacy would live on if she donated her organs.”

He holds on to me long enough for the truth to smack into me, and then he lets me go so I can make sure I have the facts straight by peering into his eyes.

“Dr. Azores.”

I’m not asking a question. I am clicking on to the reason he killed the doctor on our flight, but Maksim nods as if I am. “He was the head of the surgical team at Myasnikov Private before Dr. Abdulov took over. He⁠—”

“Encouraged me to donate my mother’s organs.” I knew I had seen him before, but the trauma of the day had my coping mechanisms making most of my memories hazy. I’d rather forget them than try to hold on to fragments that mean nothing to me. “Did they⁠—”

Maksim’s eyes fall to the floor, answering my question before I can ask it.

They didn’t donate my mother’s organs.

They sold them.

“How did you find out?”

He stares at me for several long seconds, gauging how I will respond to his reply.

He must see something profound inside my soul because my outward appearance shows nothing but a quivering bag of nerves.

After carefully placing me back onto my side of our seat, he removes a folder from a safe under a stationary bar. It looks like an official police document, but there is no department seal like most public service offices have.

“What the?” I murmur when he places a document beside his empty whiskey glass.

It is a contract for a sale, but instead of a new dishwasher or the latest model television being ordered, it is organs—vital ones patients can’t live without.

There’s no holding back my shock when the date and time on the ledger registers as familiar. It was the morning his mother was due to go into surgery—the exact date and time.

“She was meant to die on the table.” Maksim’s voice is a mix of anger and devastation. “And because she was an organ donor, no one would have batted an eye at them immediately removing her organs and shipping them to her purchaser instead of the people whose lives she wanted to save by choosing to be a donor.”

I don’t startle when he picks up his whiskey glass and smashes it against the wall. I want to hit something, and I’ve had years to process my mother’s injustices. Maksim has only had weeks.

“If you hadn’t fought for her, if you hadn’t unexpectedly shown up at her room in the middle of the night, she’d be dead.” He scoffs as if angry at himself. “Yet I still believed the lies they told.”

I wait, praying he will relieve some of my confusion.

He does two seconds later. “Dr. Abdulov placed all the blame on you. He even doctored my mother’s medical files so everything was in your name, and I stupidly believed the evidence.”

“No, you didn’t,” I deny, speaking on behalf of my heart and my head. “Because if you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Now his struggles make sense. Why he couldn’t look at me. Why he wouldn’t touch me even with the tension hot enough to scald.

He hated that he still wanted me even after all the lies they’d told.

“What made you realize I wasn’t involved?”

“I knew all along. I just…” A deep exhale breaks up his reply. “I let them believe I was thinking with my cock.” His expression takes on a serious note. “Then you offered to help me build a case against them before telling me about what happened to your mother and your sister.” His smirk isn’t close to a smile, but it is better than deepening the groove between his brows. “That’s when the dots started connecting.” He stares me straight in the eyes. “The benzodiazepine they gave your mother to make her unresponsive during her attack was found in the blood workup you were adamant my mother should get.”

“I knew it,” I murmur to myself. “I knew her soul left her body hours before her injuries claimed her life.”

When Maksim steps closer, eager to wipe away my tears, I clear them with my sleeve cuff before signaling for him to continue.

He’s not a man who lies, but he has no issues skirting the truth—especially if it can hurt someone he cares about.

That someone today is me.

But I need to hear this. We need to be honest with each other if we want to give our marriage a real chance of survival.

After ensuring my cheeks are dry, Maksim continues as requested. “The benzodiazepine was the cause of most of my mother’s symptoms.” I attempt to interrupt him, but he continues talking, foiling my chances. “She still has a B12 deficiency. You were right about that. But more was at play than a dip in vitamin absorbency.”

Her condition is far worse than he makes out, but I save my lecture for another day.

“We assumed it was a rival.” He laughs like he knows no one would ever be stupid enough to go against him like that. “We were wrong. They didn’t know who she was. They were clueless because to my competitors, I am still his son, so I’d never operate under the maiden name of his whore.” He keeps his eyes locked on his shoes as he licks his lips. “My mother traveled to Myasnikov to meet with a man who, even at his worst, would have treated her better than my father ever did, and almost lost her life in the process.” His eyes are back on me, hot and heavy. “How fucking ironic is that?”

“Ironic or poignant?” My voice is jam-packed with emotion. “It brought us together, didn’t it?”

He nods before reminding me of how stupid I have been. “And almost tore us apart.”

“That’s not true.” I shake my head, disagreeing with him. “If you had been honest with me at the start, I would have understood.”

My lips don’t know whether to harden into a stern line or crack into a smile when he mutters, “Still a shit fucking liar, Doc.” They choose the latter when he adds, “But it is one of the things I love about you the most, and the sole reason I won’t give up on us. I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I sure as fuck ain’t letting you walk out on me without giving this a real chance.”

Love? He loves me?

“You fucking kneecapped me, Doc. From the moment I saw you, I knew I needed to make you mine. But I can’t change who I am.” He bangs his chest. “I protect the people I love, and I destroy the people who try to hurt them.” His following words expose he is not a man who usually holds a conversation. He gives orders, and you either follow them or face his wrath. “But I’m trying for you, Doc. Every. Fucking. Day. I try for you.”

My shoulders relax, and the pain that’s been stretched across my chest for almost a decade eases.

He’s fighting the same demons of his childhood as I am, pushing past the same neuroses.

And he’s doing it for me as much as he is himself.

“I—”

Maksim pushes his finger to my lips, silencing me, before proving he will always be a man who operates on actions instead of words. “Don’t tell me, Doc. Show me.”

We don’t make it to the bedroom before buttons pop and zippers are yanked down.