Chapter 10 The moment I wheel my mother through the front doors of the hospital, relief crashes over me. She's finally out of this hellhole. The worst of this nightmare has passed. Weeks, or maybe months, of recovery still lie ahead, but she's alive, alert, and already dishing out the gentle admonishments only a mother can. Sasha trails behind us, one hand gripping the suitcase handle, the other clutching the car keys, his gaze locked on Mom the entire time. "You boys are fussing too much," she mutters, patting my arm as I adjust her coat. "I had a small stroke, that's all." "You say that like you didn't scare the hell out of us." I bend to meet her gaze. "We thought we were going to lose you." Her expression softens, yet pride still creases her brow. "I am sorry you thought that, Sergei. But you did not. It will take more than that to take me out." I chuckle, brushing a knuckle over her cheek. "And I plan to keep it that way, which is why I've hired a live-in nurse to take care of you." Her brows rise. "You did not need to do that. The last thing we need is some nervous little thing flitting around the house and telling me what I can and can't eat." "Yes, I did," I say firmly. "And I didn't hire some 'nervous little thing.' For you, Mom, I only hired the best. You remember Nicole?" She takes a moment to think about it, then smiles softly. "That pretty blonde nurse? The one who talked to me when she thought I was sleeping?" I glance at Sasha, who smirks behind the wheel as we slide into the backseat beside her. "That's the one. I convinced her to leave the hospital and take care of you full-time. She starts today." "She'll be taking care of me at the house?" she asks, as weary of the hospital as we are. "She moved in this morning," I tell her. "Everything is already arranged." She falls quiet for a long beat, eyes flicking between the two of us as we ease out of the hospital parking lot and onto the main road. "You fuss over me too much," she grumbles again. "You boys spoil me. Back in Russia they'd have left me out in the cold and let the elements finish the job." Sasha chuckles. "You haven't lived in the old country since you were a child, Mom. How would you know?" The ride is slow, made slower by the afternoon traffic snaking through the city, but I don't mind. I watch the way my mother gazes out the window, her hand curled in mine, her eyes a little heavier than usual. Though she's only been in the hospital a few days, it has felt like a lifetime. I wasn't sure this day would come, and now that it has, I plan to make damn sure she doesn't have a single thing to worry about. By the time we pull into the mansion's gate, I'm already scanning for Nicole. The security team confirmed she checked in by three, the time we agreed she would arrive. Anxiety builds in my chest, and I tell myself it's only because I want this to go smoothly. Sasha parks at the front entrance and jumps out. He opens the passenger door and steadies Mom with a hand as she steps down. I fall in beside them, my hand instinctively pressed to her back as we guide her up the steps. The butler swings the doors wide, revealing Nicole standing with the rest of the staff, ready to assist at a moment's notice. Her hair is pulled into a neat ponytail, and she's wearing bright floral scrubs. I'm not sure how much she and Mom spoke at the hospital, or whether the floral print is deliberate, but I do know Mama adores fresh flowers. "Mrs. Volkova," she greets my mother with a bright smile. "Welcome home." My mother's face lights up in a way I've never seen before. Already some of that anxiety eases and I know I've done the right thing. "Hello, my solnyshko," she says, reaching out to touch Nicole's arm, her little sun. "It is so lovely to have you here with us. Don't tell anyone, but you were my favorite nurse." Nicole's smile deepens. "It'll be our little secret," she whispers conspiratorially. "And now that you're back in the comfort of your own home, we'll get you back in fighting shape in no time." "Good. These boys need a proper whooping," Mom jokes. "My son set this all up?" "Sergei did," Nicole says, glancing up at me briefly before turning her attention back to my mother. "He wanted the best care for you." Mom harumphs, but I know she's secretly pleased. "They fuss over me too much," she says, releasing Sasha and me to loop her arm through Nicole's. "But you are a delightful addition. They get it right every once in a while." Our mother shoots us a look before Nicole guides her inside with effortless grace. I follow silently, listening to them talk as if they're old friends from college. Sasha bumps my shoulder as we step into the foyer. "I see your game, brother. Respect." He chuckles, his eyes trained on Nicole. I glance at him. "What are you talking about?" "Come on, let's call a spade a spade. Did you hire Nicole because she was the best nurse, or because you're fucking her?" I ignore him, but he's not wrong. He doesn't know that, of course. I keep my personal life from him precisely because he won't let me hear the end of it. I sure as hell can't tell him now. Since running into Nicole again at the hospital, I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. Nicole looks over her shoulder at me, and for a second, the room narrows. She's looking at me like she can read my thoughts, and for a ridiculous moment, I try to think of anything else, just in case she can. I chose Nicole because she treated my mother and me with the utmost respect when most of the other hospital staff were rushing in and out like we meant nothing to them. I chose Nicole because she's both caring and competent, the kind of nurse who'll do anything to help her patients. I chose Nicole because my mother deserves someone kind. I chose Nicole because she somehow managed to climb under my skin and I still can't shake her. And now she'll be living in my home, sleeping under the same roof. This might be the dumbest decision I've ever made. Mom leads Nicole toward her bedroom but stops short when she sees the new medical setup. I've outfitted the room with discreet monitors and medical devices to catch any emergency before it happens. I've also installed a call button she can press if she falls. "Sergei, what is all this?" she asks sharply, turning to me with a murderous glare. "Why are all these things in my room?" Sasha snorts beside me, unable to hold back his laughter. He did warn me it was too much, but I don't care. He wasn't the one who had to find her unconscious. I'm not risking that ever again. "You're overprotective. I'm not a child," she snaps in Russian. "Having a nurse is one thing, but this is too much." "I'm trying to keep you alive, Mom," I shoot back, also in Russian. "You may be my mother, but I am the man of the house and what I say goes." "I'll show you 'man of the house,'" she huffs, getting in my face and giving me a shove. Nicole steps between us. "I think we should get you settled," she says, firm yet gentle, defusing the brewing fight. "Too much stress isn't good for your heart, Mrs. Volkova." "Please, call me Liliya," she says in a gentler tone. "We'll be spending plenty of time together, it seems." "Liliya," Nicole repeats, smoothing out the unfamiliar syllables. "I'd like to take your blood pressure now that you're home." My mother scowls but nods. She lowers herself onto the bed and allows Nicole to work. In just a few minutes, Nicole has already proven she's perfect for the job. She handles my mother with a balance of patience and firmness I can't match. I love Mom, but she's stubborn. Nicole doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. Once she records Mom's blood pressure, Nicole coaxes her to lie down for a nap. Miraculously, she agrees without a fight. Sasha and I exchange shocked looks as Nicole tucks our mother in without a single protest. "Whatever you're paying her, double it," Sasha mutters. "I've never seen Mom listen to anyone like that." I smirk, feeling a surge of pride that has everything to do with choosing Nicole. "Let me show you to your room," I tell her when she's finished. I shoot Sasha a look, silently telling him to give us privacy. She falls into step beside me, silent for a moment. Now that we're alone, the air between us feels charged. Maybe it's just in my head, but I almost feel a magnetic draw to her. When she moves, I move. When I breathe, she breathes. It's the strangest sensation, yet I'm not ready for it to end. We reach the guest wing, and I open the door to her suite. I step aside to let her enter first, allowing her the space to explore. The room is bright, polished, and elegant without being cold-or so my designer assured me. She turns in a slow circle, her gaze sweeping over every detail. "This is incredible," she whispers, almost to herself. "Comfortable?" I ask, leaning against the doorframe, crossing my arms. She glances back at me, eyes still wide. "More than comfortable," she says. "It's bigger than my apartment." "My father had a thing for grandeur," I tell her. "He had this house built when I was young, and he had a hand in every single detail. We've updated some of the interior in the last few years, but we've tried to keep it all in line with his original vision." "You grew up here?" she asks, suddenly shy. "Yes." I laugh. "My brother and I used to race through the halls and get in trouble for drawing on the walls. Mom always said this house was far too nice to be raising hellions." "I can't imagine you being a hellion," she murmurs, a small smile curving her lips. "You seem very close to your family." "They're everything to me," I say. "I'm close with my family too," she says. "It's one of the reasons I took this job. My parents need help, and I want to be able to give it to them." I watch her for a moment longer. She parts her lips to say something, but color drains from her face and her hand darts to her stomach. "Excuse me," she mutters, brushing past me and hurrying into the bathroom. I straighten instantly. I'm not sure what to do. Her retching echoes from the bathroom, and instinct says to give her space to recover. After all, she's the nurse. I have no idea how I could be of any help in this situation. But I don't want to just leave her there, sick and weak on her first day in my home. A prickling unease tells me something more is going on. I can't pin it down, but I'm sure she meant to tell me something before bolting. In the end I force myself to back away; she probably doesn't want to open the door to find me hovering. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...