Vengeance

CHAPTER 18

It was eight at night, and with each passing minute, Mikhail's worry deepened. His gaze flicked between the clock and the door, his mind restless, waiting for Tabitha to walk through it.

Ideally, he should have picked her up from school or at least asked one of his men to do so. He had considered it, but then the thought gnawed at him—her life already felt like one of captivity, of being watched and controlled, and he didn't want to add to that weight. He wanted to give her some semblance of freedom, of independence. He truly did. His entire focus was on making her life easier, making her feel safe again. But now, with the minutes stretching on, he wasn't sure if that was even possible anymore.

She hadn’t answered his calls. That was the last straw, and panic crept in, curling its fingers around his chest. What, if anything, had happened to her? She had already tried to end her life once. What if Anatoly had gotten a hold of her in the worst possible way?

The thought made Mikhail forget to breathe. He’d already instructed one of his most trusted men to tail Tabitha and Anatoly, so if things had gone awry, he would have known. But the fear of losing her escalated. Without a second thought, he dialed his man's number.

As he drove towards her house, his mind was in turmoil. His man had reported that Tabitha had gone to Anatoly’s house but then returned to her own. It had been two hours since then.

He rushed upstairs without hesitation, standing in front of the door. He rang the bell, but there was no answer. His heart pounded louder with each passing minute. He rang it again—twice, then thrice—still, there was nothing but silence on the other side. With no other choice, he carefully picked the doorknob and pushed the door open. He usually avoided this method, but it was a trick that never failed him when desperate.

He rushed inside, calling out her name, but was met with silence. A wave of relief washed over him when he spotted her curled up on her bed, tucked under the covers in her bedroom.

Hastily, he walked toward her, gently pulling the cover from her face. A breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaped him as he saw her peaceful, steady breathing. She was deep in slumber, untouched by the nightmare she'd been through.

Guilt gnawed at him, knowing he was partly responsible for the trauma she had endured. Yet, there was a strange sense of relief that coursed through him. She was safe, in her own home, despite being manipulated by Anatoly. No matter what, she didn’t deserve this. None of it.

He made a silent vow to himself. He would find a way to free her from this nightmare, even if it meant she could never bear to look at him again.

"Tabitha," he called softly, his voice gentle as he tried to rouse her from her slumber. He didn’t want to disturb her rest, especially when it was so late in the evening, but something felt wrong. "Tabitha," he repeated, his hand reaching out to touch her face.

His scowl deepened when he felt the heat radiating from her flesh. She was burning, and her steady breathing seemed to be very shallow. Panic crept into his chest as he looked at her, but she remained unconscious, her face pale despite the fever.

Without wasting a second waiting for an ambulance, Mikhail lifted Tabitha carefully into his arms and rushed her to his friend’s hospital.

He burst through the hospital doors, his voice frantic. "What happened to her?" he demanded, his eyes never leaving Tabitha’s still form as his friend, Robert, began his examination.

Robert didn’t hesitate, his brow furrowing as he checked her vitals. "Fever," he replied, his voice calm but laced with concern. "And from the looks of it, this is likely due to the stress she’s been under."

His eyes then became judgemental, an unspoken question in them.

Mikhail’s voice was strained, a mix of desperation and frustration. "I didn’t do anything, Rob. I promise. I’m trying to help her. I really am."

"I do not know what kind of help you are giving her. What the hell are you and Anatoly playing at?"

"Rob, you know me. I have never hurt women, and I have no intention of doing so in the future."

Robert gave him a hard, scrutinizing stare as if weighing his words. After a long moment, he nodded reluctantly, signaling that he believed him. But his next question was direct, cutting through the tension.

"Answer me one thing. Are you and Tabitha sexually active?"

Mikhail was momentarily taken aback, his confusion evident, but he answered nonetheless. "Not recently. Honestly, it's a miracle that she is tolerating me. Why do you ask?”

Robert's expression clouded as he pointed at Tabitha's neck. "She has a bite mark on her neck."

Mikhail's eyes widened with shock. "What?" He quickly came forward, pushing his friend aside to get a better look. In his rush to get medical help, he hadn't noticed the angry redness marring her skin. His blood ran cold as the realization hit him. "I am going to kill Anatoly."

"Anatoly?" Robert’s voice echoed in disbelief.

Mikhail recounted the entire story, his voice low and filled with frustration. Robert listened intently, his astonishment growing with each word.

"Christ! He is like a devilish version of you. No wonder something felt off about him."

Mikhail let out a bitter laugh, his expression grim. "Don't I know it? And now, because of me, Tabitha is suffering."

"It's not entirely your fault. Even though Anatoly’s cruelty may have been triggered because of you, for her safe future, it is better she faces this now. If you hadn’t entered her life, things could have taken an even darker turn."

"I just want her to be safe and happy."

"Even if it’s not with you? I hate to say this, Mikhail, but with you being Anatoly's twin and everything that has happened, I’m not sure she’d even want to look at your face. Your resemblance to him complicates everything. You’ll always be a reminder of her nightmare."

Mikhail’s jaw tightened, and he let out a bitter sigh. "Don’t I know it, Robert? As much as I’d like to blame everything on Anatoly, I can’t deny my part in all of this. I would have to fix everything. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I have to remove Anatoly from her life, for good."

Robert studied him for a long moment, his expression softening. "You really do love her."

Mikhail's attention shifted to Tabitha as a faint, tender smile graced his lips. "Yes," he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion, "more than anything." He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face and lightly stroking her cheek.

Robert squeezed his friend's shoulder firmly. "Everything will work out for the best. Just give her time, be patient, and stay true to yourself. Maybe—just maybe—she'll be able to move past this."

"I hope so," Mikhail whispered, his voice barely audible. But the look in his eyes betrayed his unwavering determination to fight for her, no matter how long it took.

When Tabitha's eyes fluttered open in the morning, a dull ache coursed through her body. She blinked a few times, trying to make sense of her surroundings. The room she found herself in was sterile and unfamiliar, its white walls and faint medicinal scent indicating it was a hospital.

A faint prickling sensation drew her attention to her hand, where an IV needle was taped to her skin, the fluid slowly dripping into her veins. She frowned slightly, trying to recall how she had ended up there.

Her gaze then shifted to a figure slumped in a chair nearby. Mikhail. Despite the awkward angle of his seat and the discomfort etched into his posture, he was fast asleep, his breathing steady and untroubled.

‘Did he bring me here?’ Tabitha wondered, her thoughts muddled and heavy with exhaustion.

She struggled to piece together how she had ended up in the hospital. As she shifted slightly, a sharp pain shot through her, pulling a groan from her lips. Instinctively, her hand went to her neck, her fingers brushing against the edge of a bandage covering the wound Anatoly had inflicted upon her. The memory of his cruelty sent a shiver down her spine.

The sound of movement drew her attention, and she looked up to find Mikhail now standing, his posture tense and alert. His face, so eerily familiar yet vastly different from his twin’s, was marked with concern. A slight frown tugged at his brow as his eyes scanned her face.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, his voice a mixture of worry and hesitation. Before she could answer, he stepped closer and gently placed his palm against her forehead, checking for any lingering fever. Relief washed over his features when he found none. “You’re no longer burning,” he murmured, though his worry didn’t entirely fade.

"What happened?" Tabitha asked, her voice tinged with confusion as she tried to put together the events of the previous night.

"I came to your house searching for you. At first, I thought you were sleeping, but then I noticed your fever. You were burning up, so I brought you here.”

"Oh. I am sorry for troubling you," she said softly, though there was a hint of discomfort in her tone.

Mikhail shook his head, his voice firm yet tinged with regret. “No, Tabitha. I should be the one apologizing. For everything.”

She only shrugged in response, her gaze distant. Mikhail sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair before stepping out to bring the doctor.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and along with Mikhail, a new figure stepped in—a man with a kind yet mischievous expression. He held a clipboard but looked more like he carried years of knowing smiles.

"And we finally meet," the man said warmly.

Tabitha blinked in confusion.

The man chuckled and extended his hand. "I’m Doctor Robert Adams, this i***t’s best friend. And you must be the famous Tabitha Belsky. The only woman who has managed to make this cold-hearted fool feel some actual, good, human emotions.”

Her eyes widened slightly as Doctor Adams examined her with calm efficiency. He offered a small nod of approval before speaking. “Luckily, there’s no fever, a very good sign. But a prior suicide attempt? That’s concerning.”

"I..." Tabitha’s face darkened, her expression quickly shifting from shock to irritation.

She turned her glare toward Mikhail, who stood by the door looking sheepish. Doctor or not, Mikhail had no right to disclose that information.

"Damn! You actually cower under her stare." Robert remarked with a hearty laugh, thoroughly enjoying the moment. “Now that’s a first.”

Mikhail shot him a warning look, but it only seemed to encourage Robert. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Miss Belsky,” he said, leaning conspiratorially toward Tabitha. “The only people who’ve ever managed to scare this guy were his father and, occasionally, me.”

“Really?” Tabitha’s interest was piqued, her glare softening into a curious gaze.

“Oh, absolutely,” Robert continued, grinning. “And now? He’s utterly terrified of you. Honestly, it’s a sight to see.”

“This is not funny,” Mikhail growled, his glare now fully directed at Robert.

"It is," both Robert and Tabitha replied simultaneously, sharing a small laugh.

Mikhail wasn’t amused and hid his irritation by turning his glare toward Tabitha. "And you. Do you have any idea what I went through when you didn’t respond to my call? Why in the world didn’t you come home after meeting Anatoly?"

Tabitha shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, her face flushing slightly. "I..."

The mere mention of his twin brother made Tabitha solemn, reminding her of her painful reality. She looked away, as Anatoly's words flashed back in her mind.

Sensing Tabitha’s discomfort, Robert stepped in. “Mikhail, out. I need to check her.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He crossed his arms, standing his ground.

“Out now. I’m her doctor first, then your friend.”

Mikhail sighed, reluctantly stepping back. He cast a final glance at Tabitha before leaving the room. “This is not over.”

"Unfortunately," she murmured to herself.

Robert shook his head as he thoroughly examined her. "Aside from some weakness, you should be fine."

"Thank you," she replied.

“As a doctor, I would also recommend seeing a psychiatrist."

"I don't need one," she insisted fiercely. "I'm fine."

"Ms. Belsky, please don't take it the wrong way. I’m not fully aware of what’s going on, but for anyone to take a step towards ending their life is hardly the definition of being fine."

"Anyone would have if they were in my place."

"Maybe. Perhaps not. But you cannot allow anyone to control your life in such a way."

"Easier said than done," Tabitha replied, her gaze distant as she fought to keep the overwhelming emotions at bay.

"I know," he said gently. "But you will be fine. Believe me when I say that Mikhail will help you. It might not seem like it now, but he’s not a bad person."

"You’re his friend," she muttered, her voice laced with doubt.

"And you’re putting me under the same light as him," Robert replied in understanding.

Tabitha chose to remain silent.

"Fair enough, but there’s a reason why he is the way he is," Robert continued, his tone softening. "He didn’t inherit this identity. He did what he had to for survival. I know you might not believe me, or him, but his feelings for you are genuine."

"Is it?" Tabitha enquired, scepticism hanging in her voice.

"Tabitha, that man can make anyone run for their life, and he under no circumstances looks down. But today, he did, because everything about you affects him. Give yourself some time, and I promise, things will become clearer."

The entire ride to Mikhail's house was filled with an uncomfortable silence as Tabitha mulled over Robert’s words.

"Do you want to grab anything from your house?" Mikhail asked quietly, breaking the silence, his voice laced with uncertainty.

Tabitha shook her head, her gaze fixed out the window. "No."

Mikhail nodded, sensing the quiet tension that hung between them. He could feel her discomfort, but he also knew that pushing her further wouldn’t help. The only thing he was glad about was that Robert approved of her.

He doesn't know what or how it happened but his friend had urged him not to give up on Tabitha, but rather to take things slowly and not rush her into anything.

Not that he intended to. Mikhail wasn’t one for patience, but when it came to her, he was willing to try.

His only priority was to help her to the best of his ability.