Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I’ve been thinking about our house,” he says quietly. “I think I’m going to make some changes.”
“Yeah? Really?”
“That wing. I think cleaning it won’t be enough.”
My eyebrows raise. “You mean we’re really going to burn it down?”
He gives me a look and shakes his head. “No, baby, but we will rip it to the studs. Then I think you can make it into anything you want.”
I pull back in surprise. “Really? You’re giving me control over this?”
“It’s your home too. I think you should have some say in how it looks.”
“What if I want to turn it into one giant rock wall climbing gym?”
His jaw works. “Then I will invest in safety gear.”
“You’re too much.” I kiss him, beaming with excitement. “This is a really good day.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.” He squeezes my ass and turns away. “Now, go back home with the guards. I have more business to deal with.”
“Nothing dangerous?”
“Everything I do is dangerous these days, but nothing particularly bad.”
I open my mouth to say goodbye and the words nearly spill out. I love you, see you later. But I stop myself before I can say it.
My body freezes. He doesn’t notice as he strides off. I’m left alone for a moment, in total shock.
I just almost told him that I love him.
Casually, too, like it’s no big deal.
Like it’s just the truth.
But that’s too much, right? I mean, our relationship is pretty good, but we’re not there yet. We can’t possibly be there. I’m still processing the whole murder shrine and the fact that our housekeeper is an Armenian poisoner.
There’s no way I’ve had time to fall in actual love with him.
And yet it doesn’t feel wrong. Thinking those words only makes my body glow with happiness. Arsen swept into my life and he gave me so much already. My mother’s happy and healthy and my father gets to enjoy retirement. Vadim’s having trouble adjusting, but he’ll get there eventually.
Would it really be so wrong if I fell in love with my husband?
Chapter 29
Arsen
“Make sure the place is watched every fucking day,” I say as I shove the crib into the corner of the room. I adjust the phone in the crook of my neck. “And if Aunt Sona shows her face, call me so I can cut her throat.”
“I have eyes on it,” Tigran says in my ear. “What’s that noise? You moving furniture around or something?”
“Nursery,” I grumble, stepping back to inspect my work. “Also, there’s a shipment of guns coming in from the Russians. Make sure that goes well.”
“Are you talking about killing your own aunt and doing an arms deal while building your baby’s room?”
“It’s fucking business.” I clench my jaw and heft a pack of diapers. “Do you have any idea how expensive all this shit is?”
“Not like you actually care.”
“Just madness. Not all families have my resources.”
“Wow, you truly have become a social revolutionary. I’ll take care of the guns.”
“Thanks, brother.”
We get off the phone. The nursery is coming along bit by bit. I’ve been buying as much as I can and stocking up on all the essentials, but no matter how many tubes of cream or packages of overnight pads I get, it never feels like enough.
Lena says I’m overthinking it. But I worry she’s underthinking it. Our child is coming in only a few months, and by the time the baby’s here, it’ll be too late. I want to make sure we have everything we could possibly need and more.
There’s a stack of baby books beside our bed, but she hasn’t touched any.
Meanwhile, I’ve torn through them all.
I can’t help myself. I’m the kind of man that has to prepare and plan.
While she’s wandering around with her brain in the damn clouds.
“Lena?” I call out, poking my head into the hall. But my wife is nowhere to be seen. I grumble to myself and start searching the house for her. I can’t find her anywhere, at least until Maud says she was spotted heading into the basement.
The stairs creak under my weight as I descend. It smells slightly damp despite the dehumidifier. I haven’t bothered finishing it yet, but I suspect that’s on our list of renovations once we start filling this place with children.
How many children, exactly? I’m not sure, but it’s going to be more than a few.
Just have to convince my wife that’s a good idea first.
“Lena?” I call out.
“In here!” Her voice is muffled, but it’s coming from the back room.
I head over, batting away spider webs. “Where are you?”
“Here.” Some shuffling sounds come from inside the damn crawlspace. It’s a narrow storage area that extends nearly fifty feet in pure darkness. We keep my fucking skis in there.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, raising my phone and hitting the flashlight.
I find her looking at me sheepishly. She’s curled on her side halfway down in the pitch darkness. “Exploring?”