Chapter 6 - The Sanctuary at Lenox Hill
The executive wing on the twelfth floor of Lenox Hill Hospital overlooked the
glittering, rain-slicked skyline of Central Park.
By eight o’clock the following morning, my sixteen-year-old sister, Maya, had
been settled into a sprawling private suite that looked more like a five-star
hotel than a medical facility.
She was resting comfortably in an adjustable bed draped in Egyptian cotton,
hooked to a state-of-the-art chemotherapy infusion system that caused none of
the violent nausea she had suffered in the county ward.
Dr. Aris Thorne, the world’s leading pediatric neuro-oncologist, stepped out of
Maya’s room into the private consultation lounge, holding a digital tablet.
Valentin and I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the autumn leaves
drift across Fifth Avenue below.
Valentin was dressed in a tailored charcoal wool coat over a fresh white dress
shirt, his dark hair combed back, looking every bit the untouchable king of New
York. But his posture was patient, respectful, standing beside me as if he were
my husband rather than my employer.
“Miss Miller, Mr. Sokolov,” Dr. Thorne said, adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses,
a warm, confident smile on his face. “We completed the initial MRI contrast
scans thirty minutes ago.”
My hands gripped the edge of the leather sofa. “Doctor... how bad is the tumor?”
“It’s not bad at all, Leah,” Dr. Thorne said gently. “The previous clinic
misdiagnosed the tissue margins. It is not an inoperable glioblastoma. It is a
localized juvenile pilocytic astrocytoma. We can perform a targeted endoscopic
resection on Thursday morning.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, burning with sudden, blinding hope. “Can you remove it
completely?”
“With our surgical robotics, we have a ninety-eight percent complete resection
rate,” Dr. Thorne confirmed. “Within six weeks, your sister will be in full
remission. She will live a long, healthy life.”
I covered my mouth with both hands, a broken, joyful sob escaping my chest.
Valentin stepped forward, extending his hand to the surgeon. “Do whatever it
takes, Doctor. The Sokolov accounts are open to your department without limits.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sokolov. We’ll prepare her for Thursday.”
The doctor walked back into the room, leaving Valentin and me alone in the
sunlit lounge.
I turned to Valentin, throwing my arms around his neck without thinking, burying
my face against his collar.
He didn't flinch. He wrapped his massive arms around my waist, lifting me
slightly off the floor, holding me with a fierce, protective warmth that made
the rest of the world melt away.
“She’s going to live, Valentin,” I wept into his neck. “She’s going to live.”
“I told you she would, Leah,” Valentin murmured, his lips brushing against the
crown of my head. “You took care of my wolves. Now I take care of yours.”
He set me down gently, his hands lingering on my hips, his sapphire eyes
May you like
searching mine with a tenderness that stole my breath.
“Come,” Valentin said softly. “We have business to finish in Long Island.”
