Page 93 of Auctioned to My Bratva Boss

Then darkness, like a tide, swallowed me whole.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Riley

That red light above the operating room door had been on for god knows how long.

My ears buzzed like someone had stuffed a hive of bees inside. Dried blood still caked under my nails, no matter how hard I scrubbed.

I'd never felt anything like this before. Knowing he was fighting for his life and I couldn't do a damn thing about it... I never wanted to feel that helpless again. I couldn't stop seeing Matvey as they wheeled him in.

He was covered in blood. That crisp white shirt soaked crimson, a nurse pressing down on the wound, but blood still gushing out. That bullet was meant for me... He took it for me.

"He's going to wake up, right?" My voice floated down the empty hallway.

"He'll be fine." A rough voice came from beside me.

I looked up. Anton leaned against the wall, his massive frame slightly hunched.

"Ms. Quinn, you don't really know the Pakhan." His gaze fixed on that red light. "I've been with him over a decade. Seen him crawl out of situations a hundred times worse than this."

"Once, he took three bullets. When they got him to the hospital, doctors said he was done. But he made it."

"Man always survives. This time won't be any different."

I knew he was trying to comfort me. But I could hear the fear buried in his voice too.

A bullet through the back, piercing the left chest, almost directly over the heart... Facing an injury like that, no one could help but be afraid. Especially when it happened to someone you cared about most.

Time crawled. The hallway was terrifyingly quiet, that red light stubbornly glowing like an eye that refused to close. After what felt like forever, the operating room door finally opened. I practically launched from my chair, stumbling forward. I almost lost my balance—Anton caught my arm.

"Doctor!" I grabbed the man who'd just removed his mask. "How is he? Is he—"

"Surgery was successful." The doctor's voice was exhausted, but those words made my knees buckle.

Successful. The surgery was successful.

"Bullet was too close to the heart. He's lucky." The doctor glanced at me. "He lost a lot of blood. Some backed up into his lungs, but we've taken care of it."

"Now, it's up to him."

"When will he wake up?" I pressed.

The doctor paused, shook his head.

"Hard to say." He chose his words carefully. "Could be a day. Could be a week, a month, maybe longer. Depends on how he recovers. What he needs most now is rest."

He patted my shoulder and left.

A month... maybe longer. Could he not wake up at all? The thought sat on my chest like a stone.

Anton and I walked into the room.

Matvey lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed, face so pale he almost melted into the pillow. Tubes snaked from his body to machines beeping in steady rhythms.

His chest was wrapped in thick bandages, rising and falling faintly with the ventilator.

I'd never seen him like this. Matvey, who always radiated that suffocating pressure, now lay there so fragile he might shatter at a touch. My heart twisted. Everything blurred.