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“No, lyubimaya… Come. We can study over lunch.”
“Study?”
I chuckle. “You’ll see.”
Chapter 23
Alina
He has a list of roughly a hundred and twenty different questions the immigration officer could potentially ask us during our interview. I feel like such a schoolgirl, sitting across from him with my hands folded neatly on my lap as we go through each and every one.
“It’s about time we got around to this,” he says, shifting through a few printed documents. “We need to get our story straight, and since you’re so dedicated to playing the role, I figured now is as good a time as any.”
Playing the role.
I’m not sure why, but the way he says this makes my stomach clench. I’m not sure what to make of his tone. Does he think I’m not taking this seriously? Why does he sound so bummed about it?
The restaurant he’s chosen is a fancy one. It’s surprisingly busy considering it’s only noon. We’re seated in the back section at a little table for two. The ambiance is lovely—breezy jazz music playing over the speakers, slender pendant lamps hanging overhead, and even a small water feature babbling near the front. The menu is impressive, too, pared down to only a few select options to make ordering easier. I’ve chosen the steak and fries, while Pyotr ordered the day’s special.
“Okay,” I say as I sip my glass of ice water. “What’s the first question?”
“How did we meet?” he reads aloud.
“Under duress.”
He gives me a pointed look. “Take this seriously, Alina.”
I crack a smile. “I’mjoking, Pyotr. I know that won’t fly. What kind of story should we come up with?”
“Something simple. Easy to remember.”
“Well, how about through a family get-together? That’s feasible, right? Our families are in, uh… business together. We could have easily met over dinner.”
“That’s a slippery slope.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me, what exactly does your family do?”
I hesitate, sensing his concern. We can’t very well bring up the fact that we belong to two different Bratva families. It would open the door to all manner of red flags. “Okay, fine. What do you suggest?”
“We met at the grocery store. Reached for the same carton of milk, and the rest was history.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “That’s soboring. Not to mention unbelievable.”
Pyotr frowns. “What’s so unbelievable about it?”
“My darling husband, do you remember who you are? Why would the CEO of a massive company like CyberFort do his own grocery shopping?”
“Okay, you have a point.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “Damn.”
“Let’s work on a different question.”
Pyotr glances down at his papers. “Who proposed?”
“You did.”
“How?”
