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I grab the stool and set it next to the tub. “We can have breakfast when you’re done.”
“Lovely.” She skims her hand over the bubbles. “How can a high-ranking Bratva enforcer hang out in a Mafia run hotel and casino?”
“They are our allies now. Alexey’s and Gianna’s marriage cemented the agreement, and we now cooperate with one another.”
“I assumed it was something like that since Gianna is the Don’s daughter.”
“She’s actually the Capo di tutti capi’s daughter and the Don’s sister. Her father stepped back when his cancer battle took a turn.”
“Does that make her the most connected woman in the criminal underworld?”
“It might. I haven’t given it much thought.” I watch the lines between her eyes deepen. “Are you worried about what’s next?”
Nodding, she stares into her cup. “Why did my grandmother send a letter? Who does that any more?”
“A woman who is smart enough to know that no one pays attention to snail mail. Whoever has the most talented hacker can access anything sent electronically, so her decision was well thought out.”
“I assumed she did it because of her age.” She takes my hand. “I’m nervous, Yuri.”
“Then lean on me.” I press a kiss on her hand. “We’ll deal with the facts as they present themselves, and I will eliminate anyone who poses a threat. Or annoys me.”
“What about me? What if I get annoyed?”
I snap my fingers. “Gone. Happy wife. Happy life.”
“I’m going to embroider that on some handkerchiefs for you.”
“I would like that.” Her smile falls. “What?”
“I don’t have a job anymore.”
“But you have dozens of possibilities. Now is the time for dreaming. Let your imagination go and start thinking about what would make you happiest.”
“If I told you I wanted the keys to your Mustang and bodyguard-free road trip with my bestie, would you let me have it?”
“No.” I take her empty coffee cup. “But I’m sure you can come up with something that doesn’t include putting your life at risk or my car.”
She rolls her eyes, and I push myself to my feet. “I’ll get us more coffee.”
When I pass the door, I hear her mutter something about me and my car and decide to keep walking. It’s too early in the morning to listen to blasphemous comments.
***
As we wait for the loft door to slide open, I sweep my wife into my arms. “We don’t want bad luck.”
“It might be too late for that.”
“Nonsense.” I carry her over the threshold and take in the details of the changes she’s made. “I haven’t seen the updates yet since I stayed in Dmitri’s loft while it was painted.”
“I thought the navy blue wouldn’t be too much of a departure from the bat cave vibe you love.” She bites her lip. “Do you hate it?”
“No.” I set her down on her feet. “It looks like a home.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Absolutely not.” I slide off my jacket and drape it over a chair that matches a small dining table. A vase of flowers sits in the center, and I realize that my meals will no longer be eaten over the sink. The bookshelves catch my attention, and I notice how they make the place appear warmer. Moving closer, I study the pictures and books that pack the shelves. “This looks good.”
“Once we get pictures from the ceremony, I’ll have them framed and add them to the collection.” She takes my hand. “I looked everywhere and couldn’t find any of your mementos, so it looks a little lopsided.”
