“She’s—”
“Divorced.”
A muscle beats in his jaw. “Not that. I meant she’s in on this?”
“She will be.”
“Will be?”
“Is there an echo out here, Isaak?” I mutter. “Yes, she will be. The woman’s already planning play dates with the baby.”
“Baby? Do I fucking want to know?”
“Alina’s pregnant, but I didn’t tell you that,” I say.
I glance at my watch. Time ticks down on the appointments I finagled last night with offers of money and a few veiled threats.
I may not want to be a pakhan, but I’m still a bratva man. I’m still Demyan’s second.
“Look, I’m sure Isla will fill you in. But your job is to get her ass to my place, and then the two of you get her out of there, without Albert, until I text you. Got it?”
“Gotta love some bratva drama,” he says. But then his humor drains away. “I’ve got it. Good luck, man.”
Yeah, I’m probably gonna need it.
Albertand I wait in the bedroom, nervous as shit. We keep looking at each other. When the front door slams, we know it’s her.
Even before Alina speaks, it’s obvious.
The air’s alive, and so am I.
Then I hear her voice and Svetlana’s.
After an almost unbearable forever, the door opens, and she steps in.
A vision.
My love.
Everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
The dress I picked flows in green and blue flowers with touches of gold here and there. It’s the color of summer, of her eyes, and it flatters her pale skin and dark hair.
Her flush is all the makeup this woman ever needs.
Albert barks once as she takes us in, a trembling hand to her mouth.
“Tuxes?” she asks.
“Albert thought we should all dress for the occasion.”
He barks again and wags his tail as I sink down to one knee.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Alina, I love you. I’ve been in love with you for so long, and the fact that you love me back is incredible, precious, and I intend to do right by you. I intend to make you the happiest woman on the earth.”
“I am.”
