Page 21 of Unexpected Bratva Baby

I force a laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Maybe we should get you a suit of armor for these walks.”

Phoebe giggles, the sound lightening the mood. “Only if it comes in tartan.”

We continue our walk, but I remain alert and constantly scanning for any sign of the black sedan or other potential threats. Vlad and the SUV are surely tailing us discreetly, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s already sent a different SUV to intercept the sedan and find out why they were following us. Allowing myself to relax slightly, I steal glances at Phoebe, amazed by how she can make me feel so normal.

We round another corner, heading back toward the busier streets of Brickell, and I see Vlad in the SUV. I allow myself to relax even more. The immediate danger seems to have passed, but it’s only a temporary reprieve. Sooner or later, I’ll have to deal with whoever was in that sedan.

For now, I push aside those thoughts, focusing instead on Phoebe’s animated description of her upcoming class. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I’m genuinely looking forward to it.

“You know,” I say, interrupting her mid-sentence about the proper way to smoke haddock, “I actually enjoy cooking. It’s not so different from what I do, really.”

Phoebe raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly do you do, Misha? You’ve always been rather vague about your work.”

I freeze for a moment, realizing my slip. “I just mean...business, you know? It’s all about following a recipe, mixing the right ingredients. Only instead of fish and potatoes, it’s... numbers and strategies.”

She looks at me skeptically but shrugs. “I suppose that makes sense. Though I have to say, I prefer my ingredients to be a bit more hands-on.”

I laugh as her eyes sparkle with amusement, and Masha seems to perk up at the sudden burst of joy. “I never thought I’d’ be debating the merits of smoked haddock versus fresh. You’re turning me into quite the foodie, Phoebe.”

She grins, a light blush coloring her cheeks. “Just wait until you try my Cullen skink. You’ll be singing its praises from the rooftops.”

We continue our stroll down the bustling Brickell sidewalk. The air is thick with the scent of nearby restaurants, a tantalizing mix of garlic, spices, and grilled meats.

“Speaking of food,” she says, her stomach growling audibly, “I’m starving. Any chance we could grab a bite?”

I glance at my watch, considering. I should be getting back to check on the situation with José’s lieutenant due to go down tonight, but the thought of spending more time with Phoebe is too tempting to resist.

“I know just the place,” I say, steering us toward a small outdoor café tucked between two towering office buildings. “They have excellent tapas and a view of the bay, and Masha will be welcomed.”

As we approach the café, I spot an empty table near the railing overlooking the water. Perfect. I guide Phoebe and Masha toward it, pulling out a chair for her before taking my own seat. Masha lies down at my feet like a perfect lady.

A waiter appears almost instantly, handing us menus and filling our water glasses. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I’ll have a glass of the house red,” she says, then looks at me expectantly.

“Make that two,” I add, nodding to the waiter.

He looks down at Masha. “And a bowl of our finest tap water for your other guest, sir?”

I nod, appreciating the extra attention this place always gives Masha. “And she’ll have raw steak for dinner, cut into small pieces. She’s a delicate eater.”

He doesn’t blink. “Of course.”

As he walks away, Phoebe rests her elbows on the table. “Tell me more about this mysterious business of yours. What kind of ‘ingredients’ are you mixing these days?”

I freeze for a moment, caught off-guard by her direct question. I should have known her curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied by my vague explanation earlier.

“Oh, you know,” I say, trying to keep my tone light, “Just the usual corporate ingredients. Mergers and acquisitions… that sort of thing. Nothing as exciting as your culinary adventures, I assure you.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not entirely convinced. “Mergers and acquisitions, huh? That sounds competitive. No wonder you’re always so tense.”

Before I can respond, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, seeing Sergei’s name on the screen. My heart rate quickens. This must be about the hit on José’s lieutenant.

“Excuse me for a moment,” I say to Phoebe, rising from my seat. “I need to take this. Business call.”

She nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. “Of course. I’ll order us some tapas while you’re gone.”

I step away from the table, moving to a quiet corner of the café’s outdoor seating area. “Sergei,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Report.”

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