The girl spent most days pecking away at her new laptop. She was writing a whole fucking book, a tell all saga blowing open the rise and fall of crime boss Gioulio Ligiotti. The FBI could eat their bastard hearts out while the public snapped it up, unable to touch her while relations were frosty between Mother Russia and the States.
As it was, the Feds were fucked. Gioulio got dumped underneath a ton of concrete at an old construction site, closer to hell where he belonged. After a couple weeks of questions and agents roaming through every nook and cranny, the heat was off my brothers. We hadn't left a shred of evidence, and soon the boys were gonna get back to expanding business in the big city.
Me? It was a fucking relief to be away from all that.
I took up archery and plotted my next move. Maybe a legit import-export business between Moscow and the EU. If all went well, I'd have shit set up by the time relations started to thaw between East and West. We still had all the money in the world.
Swiss banks. Gotta love 'em. For everything else, there was bribery, which was even easier over here than back home.
It only took me a few weeks to lock down our little world. Like a good Muscovite Prince, I could ride right into town with my girl at my side, a whole army ready to serve us at every disco, bar, and art gallery as soon as I flashed my name.
The business moves would come later. There was just one more move I had to make, something to seal the crazy fucking deal Sabrina and me forged from the moment I pulled her outta the prison and into my brothers' truck.
She was writing when I came home that day.
“Save your shit and close that thing. We need to leave now.”
She spun around as soon as my hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed. The look on my face told her she was in deep shit. It was hard keeping my voice grave as ice – I wanted to fucking laugh when I stared into her frightened eyes.
“Anton? Are we in trouble.”
“You'll find out soon, babe. Come on.”
I grabbed her by the hand, threw her coat on, and we marched out into the winter stillness. The old Russian man I'd hired to play driver rolled up in our limo after five seconds. She relaxed a bit when she saw the car. My girl was smart enough to know we wouldn't be going out in style if we really had to flee.
Still, I kept my cards close, tight to my chest as my own ink. Inside, perched on the leather seats, I handed her a glass of wine. I wanted her warmed up and relaxed for what was coming.
Shit, I needed a tall glass myself. For the first time in forever, I was nervous, and I stood a better chance of tripping all over my damned words sober.
“We're here, sir,” the Russian driver called over the little speaker, about five minutes later.
Sabrina was eyeing me with curiosity and suspicion. I suppressed a smile. She had every fucking right. Ever since we'd landed, I kept trying to one up myself, make every surprise I had for her more special than the last.
“Anton? What is this place?” She must've asked the same question three times after we got out and I guided her onto the path to the old church.
The place was in ruins when I'd found it one day riding by myself. I knew there were ruins on my property, but I didn't think it was a whole honest-to-God church. The Bolshevik fucks had done a number on it almost a century ago.
It took a jumbo sized team to get the job done. Two months of round the clock work to put a new roof on and renovate the place. It cost a couple million, about twice as much as the heavy ring weighing down my pocket. But it was worth every fucking penny. I saw it on her face when the huge doors swung open and we stepped inside.
She knew. Same thing I knew the first time I saw it laying in pieces.
This was the place where we were gonna get married.
It looked like a living museum, all fancy with fresh wooden pews and glassy eyed saints staring down from the walls. The villagers fell to my feet and showered me in thanks for making it whole. It was a fine place to pray or worship, yeah, but that wasn't what I was after.
This was all about us. Her steps slowed as I led her to the altar. She oohed and ahhed a few times going down the aisle. I almost joined her. Those big glass windows really did something awesome to the light, turning dull winter rays into beautiful gold.
The walls shined like silver, gold, and ruby. Fuck, she was glowing herself when we got to where I wanted, like we were extensions of the glory all around us.
“Babe, stop right here. This is where you get your second surprise.”
“Holy shit! Anton, I –“ she clapped a small hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Cursing like that's the last thing I should be doing here.”
I grinned. “It's fine. The only thing that'd really desecrate this place is refusing what I've got here.” I reached into my pocket.
She started shaking her head, cherry red heat flaming on her cheeks, knowing what was coming. Fuck it. There was no more need to play sly.