Shark Hunting. Spartacus

«Don't worry. You didn’t sustain any major injuries. You have a mild concussion and a bruised collarbone.»

«Is the car wrecked?»

«I can't say for sure,» the nurse replied. «You should ask Valeria Igorevna when she comes in.»

«Who’s Valeria Igorevna?» he asked, glancing at her.

«The woman who brought you here.»

«Got it.»

He drifted back to sleep.

«Hi there,» a woman’s voice said softly.

Spartacus opened his eyes with effort and saw a pretty blonde woman with her hair pinned at the back. She looked to be around forty, with a fresh face, sea-colored eyes, and full lips. Slightly slim, but it suited her. She sat near the bed, offering him a guilty smile.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Who are you?” he said instead.

«My name is Valeria. You can call me Lera,» she replied gently.

«Nice to meet you, but that doesn’t tell me much.»

«Spartacus… you got into an accident because… well, because of me…» She seemed to struggle for words.

And then it hit him.

«You’re the one who stepped onto the road in front of me that night?»

«Yes.»

He sighed and shut his eyes. What an idiot.

«I'm so sorry. I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk.»

«Fantastic,» he said bitterly. Thanks to this reckless woman, he’d probably lost every chance to fix things with Nadya.

«I’ll cover the cost of your car and whatever else. The doctors say you’ll be discharged in a few days,» she said cautiously.

«You can’t return what I probably lost because of you,» he muttered without looking at her.

«I’m sorry. Truly. I was in a terrible mental state. Honestly… I was trying to take my own life.»

«What?» He stared at her.

Valeria turned away, nervously brushing her hand through her hair.

«Yes. I know—it was stupid. Divorce, heartbreak… you know. But you… you chose to save me, risking your own life.»

He wanted to yell something sharp and cruel. Fury burned in him. He would never—never—understand people who threw their lives away without caring about the pain and chaos they’d leave behind. It was the lowest act imaginable. But instead, he just stared at her silently. Valeria stood and walked to the window, only a few steps from his bed. Her white coat, casually thrown over her shoulders, didn’t hide her slender figure beneath the fitted suit. She stood with her back to him, and silence settled in the room.

«I need a phone,» he said at last.

«That’s… the hard part,» she sighed and turned to face him with lowered eyes.

«What do you mean?»

«We tried calling the last numbers you dialed—from your phone—to inform your relatives…» she began.

Spartacus shot up, his strength returning with anger. «Who asked you to do that?!»

His fury surged. His poor mother was probably having a heart attack by now. He covered his face with his hand. What kind of punishment is this?!

«We told them you were fine,» Valeria said gently, guessing his worry. «No one’s panicking, if that helps you feel better…»

Then she added in a whisper, «But tragedy didn’t strike you, Spartacus… at least, not yet.»

His breath caught in his throat. He froze.

«Your wife, she…»

«What about my wife?»

«She’s… gone.» Valeria covered her mouth. «She fell from the fifth-floor window.»

«Nadya?» he rasped.

«Yes…» she nodded, her face contorted with sorrow. «You’re still too weak for this news, but it can’t be hidden.»

«Who the hell are you, damn it?! Did her father send you here to poison me with this nonsense?! Get out!» he shouted, jumping out of bed.

Enough. This was too much. So she wanted to die? Great—he’d help her now!

He lunged at her, but orderlies were already rushing in. More staff joined them. No one could restrain him—he tossed them off with brute force, thrashing like a man possessed, aiming to reach the lying suicidal woman.

Then a nurse, with surprising precision, jabbed a needle into his arm. He kept fighting, swearing, punching—until the sedative took effect. His movements slowed, the world blurred, and he slumped into the arms of the men in white coats.

When Spartacus finally lifted his heavy eyelids, he didn’t see Valeria or the nurse. Instead, a stern male face hovered above him, expressionless.

“Is he awake?” the man asked someone.

“He’s coming around,” the nurse answered.

Spartacus turned his head and saw the familiar gleam of a needle in her hand, ready for round two.

«Don’t you dare drug me again,» he muttered. «Just leave me alone.»

“Good afternoon, Mr. Rudov,” the man said, opening a badge in front of his face.

Spartacus blinked at the ID.

“I’m a prosecutor. Spartacus Germanovich Rudov, you are under investigation. You are being charged with driving citizen Nadya Vladimirovna Klimova to suicide through psychological abuse.”

Spartacus shot up.

“No!” he yelled, his eyes bloodshot. “You’re lying!”

His fists clenched.

“Unfortunately, I’m not,” the prosecutor said more gently. “I’m sorry for your loss, but it’s the truth. Your wife jumped out of a window and died on the scene.”

He covered his face with both hands and howled. He screamed like a madman. The moment they tried to calm him, the nurse injected him again, and everything faded to black.

Chapter 8

“I’m your attorney. My name is Dmitry,” the man introduced himself, pulling a folder from his briefcase.

Spartacus looked at him blankly, then lowered his eyes.

“Your late wife's father has pressed charges against you,” the lawyer began as he took a seat across from the accused in the empty interrogation room.

“How much time am I facing?” Spartacus asked in a lifeless voice.

“A lot. More than fifteen years. But thanks to Valeria Igorevna, you won’t serve a day.”

“She a magician?” Spartacus muttered bitterly.

“You shouldn’t be sarcastic. She spared no expense to prove the evidence against you was fabricated.”

He sighed and looked at the lawyer. “What kind of evidence did Nadya’s father bring?”

“He brought in people who claimed you hired them to kidnap her, intending to use her for blackmail.”

Spartacus shook his head and groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“These people are now on our side. Don’t worry. They’re going to retract their statements.”

“Is my stepfather among them?” Spartacus asked.

“Yes, he is.”

Spartacus raised his head, stunned.

“You’re serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Dmitry replied grimly. “I’ll tell you more—he was the one who called your father-in-law the day after you got married.”

Spartacus’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

“That can’t be…”

“I even found out what motivated him. Want to hear?”

Spartacus nodded silently, too stunned to speak.

“There’s a woman in your village—Klavdia Dyankova.”

At once, Spartacus recalled the young woman he’d had several heated nights with.

“What does she have to do with anything?”

“Don’t you get it?”

“No.”

“Your stepfather was in love with her. It’s all very simple.”

“So how was I getting in the way of a man who was married and in love?” Spartacus asked, incredulous.

“He wasn’t married. But as long as you were single—or divorced—you were a threat.”

Spartacus covered his face with both hands, pressing his fingers against his eyes, and let out a muffled groan.

“What a nightmare…”

Dmitry silently nodded, watching the stunned man across from him.

“Does my mother know about this?”

“Yes,” the lawyer replied quietly. “She knows everything, unfortunately. Though even if we hadn’t told her, it would’ve come out. You know how fast gossip spreads in small towns.”

Spartacus stood in silence for several minutes, trying to collect himself. He walked over to the wall, leaned his forehead and palms against it, stood that way a moment, and then returned to his seat.

“I understand, everything hit me all at once—and it’s insane. But I’ll pull myself together,” he finally said. “My mother’s staying at Valeria Igorevna’s house, right?”

“Yes. She’s taking good care of her, don’t worry. But she needs you.”

“Please thank Valeria for me,” Spartacus said sincerely.

“I will. She wanted to come visit you, but she’s afraid.”