Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
“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.