Page 85

Andrei parks the car, steps out, and comes around to open my door himself. He offers his hand, and I take it, letting him help me out. His grip is warm and firm as he leads me toward the entrance.

“Where is this?” I ask, glancing up at the building. “Your office?”

“One of my businesses,” he replies calmly.

“Oh.” I nod slowly. “You need to pick up a document or something?”

He just smiles again, and keeps walking, still holding my hand as we step inside.

The interior is stunning.

Polished marble floors stretch across the lobby, reflecting the soft glow of modern chandeliers overhead. Tall glass panels line the walls, letting sunlight pour into the space. Everything is spotless, and expensive-looking.

It’s the weekend, so the place is mostly empty.

Only security guards patrol the ground floor, dressed in dark uniforms. The moment they spot Andrei, they straighten immediately.

“Good afternoon, sir,” they say respectfully.

Andrei gives a brief nod in acknowledgment.

The elevator ride up is silent. My curiosity grows with every passing floor. When the elevator finally stops, the doors open to a quiet hallway. He takes my hand again and leads me down the corridor until we reach a large set of double doors.

He pushes them open. I step inside, and stop. The office is massive.

Floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlook the city, offering a breathtaking view of skyscrapers and busy streets far below. A large desk sits near the windows, paired with a high-backed leather chair, and tasteful artwork hangs on the walls.

I look back at him. “Why are we here?”

Andrei watches me carefully, a hint of anticipation in his eyes. “To see your new office,” he says.

I blink.

“My… what?”

He steps closer. “This is one of my legitimate businesses,” he explains. “And you are the CFO.”

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I just stare at him, stunned. What is he talking about? Why would he do something like this?

“Why?” I finally manage to ask.

His expression softens slightly. “Because I want you to manage the business,” he says. “I didn’t plan to tell you about this until the war was over.”

He pauses, studying my reaction.

“But then you started talking about going back to work,” he continues. “So maybe it’s time you knew about it after all.”

I stand there, stunned to my bones by his revelation.

If he had done something like this for Anya, I would understand. Of course I would. She’s his daughter. Any father would want to secure her future.

But for me? “Why?” I ask again.

Andrei looks at me like the answer is obvious. “Because you’re my wife,” he says simply. “Why not?”

He steps closer, his expression serious. “And if anything were to happen to me,” he continues, “I have to make sure you’re taken care of. You and Anya.”

The words land heavier than he probably intends.