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"Thank you for working so hard at this."
"Please, it's my pleasure," he chuckles, spreading his arms. "With the new police commissioner's help, this city will be scraped clean. This is a day that’s been decades in the making."
Galina casts me a sly look from where she's sitting across the room. She sits everywhere now, her stomach jutting out as the baby threatens to come each new day. Her eyebrows wiggle; she's trying to tell me that Josh is a piece of work. I agree.
"What happens now?" I ask him.
"All the paperwork is being organized, the records of the Grachev Bratva should be corrected in time. But you need to keep a close lid on things."
I arch a single eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Make sure nobody in your little group steps out of line," he threatens.
If Josh was demanding before, now he verges on insufferable.
"Sounds like my Bratva have become enforcers for this city you love so much," I taunt. "Almost like a second police force."
He recoils like I've slapped him. "Just because the city owes you a debt of gratitude doesn't mean you should get cocky."
"They're not the only ones who owe me their gratitude," I say lightly, shrugging.
Josh narrows his eyes. "One of these days, the Grachev Bratva will be dismantled."
"One of these days." Moving towards Galina, I help her to her feet. “But it’s not today. I'll keep the peace. See you around, Josh."
He has no biting remark. Taking the elevator, I hug onto Galina from behind. My hands instinctively go to her belly where I can feel our baby kicking. It's the best sensation in the world.
"He can be a real prick," Galina giggles.
"Yes. But he's just scared."
"Of what?"
"Of losing what they’ve won." I escort her through the doors as they open. "Of what they treasure the most."
For Josh, that’s prestige and respect. And for me? Well…
Summer has finally come into its own. Outside, the trees that cluster the sidewalk are saturated with green, waxy leaves. I hold Galina's hand as we walk towards my car, our steps slow as she struggles along.
"Arsen."
There's a tremor on her tongue. I pull up short, squinting at her with concern. "What is it?"
She looks down; the front of her leggings are darkened by fluid. She stares up at me with her eyes widening further by the millisecond. "Baby’s coming."
I've lived through many things. I was sure, in my arrogance, that there was no emotion I hadn't felt.
Until I’m holding my son.
Blue eyes, deep and mysterious and ever changing, watch me from the face of the smallest human possible. He's minuscule in my arms. I worry that if I breathe wrong, I'll break him. I'm also certain I'll never, ever let any harm come to him. It’s a love I’ve never felt anywhere else.
It rattles me, as if I'm holding my own heart outside of my body.
"He's perfect," I hush.
Galina watches me from the bed with tired eyes. "He really is."
Sitting beside her, I trace my finger over the boy's small arm. It's like pink satin. I try to wedge my finger into his palm, marveling at how little his own fingers are in comparison.
