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He slowly pulls away from the kiss, but I keep my arms around his neck, reluctant to let him go completely.

“How long do we have before our flight?” I ask.

“About four hours,” he answers. “Why? Do you want to go shopping again?”

I smile. “Maybe. What if I do?”

He kisses me slowly, lips lingering. “At this point we’ve almost bought half of Florida.”

I pout. “Are you complaining?”

“Hell no.” His voice is firm, almost amused. “If you want the whole of Florida, we’re getting it.”

I smile because I know he means it. Roman never complains about how much money I spend. If anything, he encourages me to spend more. The last time I hesitated over the price of a dress, he had looked at me as though I’d said something ridiculous and reminded me that it was an insult for the wife of the Pakhan to worry about price tags. If I wanted the entire boutique, I could have it.

Since then, I’ve stopped looking at price tags quite so carefully.

It’s still strange sometimes, having this kind of freedom with money. I grew up in a wealthy home, but my father never gave Audrey or me money to spend as we pleased. If we needed something, he bought it himself, and every expense had to pass through him.

Even things we genuinely needed could be denied if he decided they weren’t necessary. It was his way of keeping us under his thumb.

Now I have a card with no limit that seems to exist solely to encourage me to spend Roman’s money, and I’m slowly learning to enjoy the freedom that comes with it. Still, I know what Roman does for a living. Even if I'm not sure how much of his business empire is legitimate, making money isn't easy—whether through legal channels or the underworld. So, I will never spend lavishly.

I kiss him again, deeper this time. “I was actually asking because I wanted to know if we had time for breakfast.”

“We have plenty of time,” he says.

Without pulling out of me, he lifts me into his arms and carries me inside the yacht cabin. We end up in the shower together, where the water and his hands lead to another slow, thorough round of sex.

Afterward he washes my hair himself, fingers working carefully through the strands. When we step out, he even helps dry it. I’ve noticed how much he loves my hair, the way he touches it, plays with it, seems almost obsessed with the feel of it between his fingers.

Once we’re dressed, we head back to shore. We share breakfast together, before meeting Maxim who drives us to the airport. I’ve somehow become friends with my brother-in-law over the past few days. He’s a little unhinged quite alright. Still, there’s something about him that makes it impossible not to like him.

“Try not to miss me too much,” Maxim says as he hugs me goodbye.

“I’ll try.”

Roman gives him a look.

Maxim grins. “What? She’s allowed to miss her brother-in-law.”

I laugh, and Roman shakes his head. We board Roman’s private plane, and as the plane lifts into the sky and Florida disappears beneath us, I settle into my seat beside my husband.

I look at him, smiling. For the first time since this marriage began, I don’t feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I simply feel happy.

❦ ❦ ❦

The first few days back in Chicago are different from Florida, but not in the way I feared.

Roman is extremely busy with work. We barely see each other during the day. He comes home late most nights, sometimes slipping into bed after I’m already asleep, pulling me against him in the dark.

Other mornings I wake to an empty space beside me or catch only a quick glimpse of him as he finishes dressing for work. We haven’t managed breakfast or dinner together since we returned. Still, I’m not as worried as I once would have been. I can tell he isn’t deliberately avoiding me this time.

Audrey’s birthday is only a few days away. I already picked up a few things for her in Florida, but I feel like she deserves more. Besides, I’ve been feeling off all morning and even threw up earlier. A little shopping might be exactly what I need to lift my mood.

So I spend the afternoon in a high-end boutique, turning over possibilities in my mind, a gold bracelet, a silk scarf in her favorite shade of green, maybe a limited-edition perfume she once mentioned.

As I move between the displays, unease settles over me. A strange-looking woman a few aisles away keeps sneaking glances in my direction. At first I tell myself it’s nothing. Still, the feeling doesn’t fade, so I decide to leave.