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I thought of the disgusting man. “Do we really need to negotiate with a dying billionaire?”
“Exactly.” Kaz nodded. “And our chess playing witch? Do we still get the absinthe for her?”
“It could be an ingredient that she really needs to heal me.”
“Or it could be another problem she wants solved.”
“I like parties. Let’s get in touch with this dude and see what happens.”
Kaz gazed at me, and something sparkled in his eyes, but I didn’t know what it was.
“What’s on your mind, baby?”
“I picked the right woman to have at my side.” Then, he snapped his view to a large family walking by us.
I moved my view to them too.
A woman pushed a double stroller, another little one, full of energy and laughter, ran ahead, weaving through the crowd with carefree joy. Beside them, a man—presumably, the father—had his camera out, snapping pictures of the street artists.
Kaz’s gaze followed them, and this sweet softness filled his eyes. He pointed at the double stroller. “We will need a stroller like that soon. One for two babies.”
“A stroller for two babies.” I side-eyed him. “No the fuck we won’t.”
“Actually, we may need a triple stroller, mysh.” Kaz laughed.
I looked at him, really looked, and saw not just the dangerous man that the world feared, but my romantic partner and loving father who was now dreaming of simple joys.
Beneath the tattoos and the muscle, beneath the reputation that preceded him, was a man who cherished the idea of family, a very large family.
This motherfucker.
Then, I thought back to how he gazed at the painting of all my alters and opened his heart to them.
My heart warmed.
Dang it.
The family disappeared into the crowd, and I leaned closer to Kaz. “Okay. . .maybe. . .a double stroller.”
Kaz gave me a triumphant grin, leaned his head back, and took a quick look at my ass. “Triple, mysh. Triple stroller.”
I sucked my teeth.
Max and the boys slowed down and met our pace. “Eh, Em! My nephews, including the furry one, are getting tired. I say we get some food at one of the best spots, drop off the kiddies, and then head to the strip club where Uncle Max can fund a lot of pretty ladies’ college education.”
Paolo pumped his hand in the air. “Strip club!”
Oh God.
Chapter thirty
The Pussy Point System
Kazimir
Later that evening, I stood in the center of the Cathouse strip club and took a swig of my vodka.
Maxwell was on my left, Tisha on my right.
