Page 81 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
She couldn’t dispute that. We’d been having so much fun together the last month, enjoying being a real married couple, that we couldn’t stand to be apart for more than an hour.
“You could have hired another manager,” she said as I parked in the back.
There were new security cameras installed around the back door that were controlled by me and not the incompetent shopping center. I was in talks to buy the whole place from the overseas company that owned it, so I could implement some other things. The place was a goldmine, ready to bring in the big bucks, but I was content to start with the gallery.
“There’s no one in this world who could make this place work like you.”
She grinned up at me, no false modesty at all. “I’ve actually been dying to get back to work, but didn’t know if…”
She trailed off, and I smirked. I guess I was being a bit overbearing about her recovery, but she wasn’t complaining too much about keeping her in bed, as long as I was there with her.
Once inside, she noticed all the changes I made right away. Most of the paintings were gone, with just the ones from artists Nat had especially liked hanging on the walls.
“Why all the empty space?” she asked, frowning over one of the remaining paintings. “And why did you change the names?”
“Those are the names of the people who actually created those works,” I said. “They should get the credit.”
Her eyes sparkled. “A legit gallery? No games? No hustle?”
“Come here,” I said, leading her out the front door so she could easily read the new name etched on the window.
She gasped when she saw it, running her fingers over the letters. Nataliye Mikhailov Gallery.
“You’re no longer just the manager. The place is yours, to do with as you wish. No more games. You’re much too good for that, and I expect to see your own pieces gracing all those blank spaces now that your hand is fully healed.”
She flexed her hand as if she was raring to get started. She’d already been messing around in her new home studio, and the one painting she had finished so far was breathtaking. It was going to be hard to let her sell it, but her talent was too great to keep all to myself.
“I—I don’t know if I can sell anything without a back story and spin. Not for the prices we’re used to getting, anyway.”
“We’re already rich,” I reminded her. “You’ll gain a reputation in time. I believe in you, Nat.”
Hurrying back inside, she inspected everything with the eyes of an owner, not an employee, then turned to smile at me.
“I love it even more than my place in Milan.”
She was happy, maybe even thrilled, but I knew her so well I could see something was still missing. We won her family over, and she didn’t have to suffer being estranged from them. I’d given her back the dream I once stole from her, and she had my heart all to herself.
“What is it?” I asked quietly, moving close to her side. A thrill of fear washed over me. What if I couldn’t give her everything she wanted? To hell with that, I’d die trying. She didn’t answer me, and I commanded her to tell me her every last wish.
She snickered at my tone, but looked up at me with raw desire in her eyes. But not just for me.
“Mila and I grew up together,” she said slowly. “We always thought our kids would, too. If you’re not ready, though, I understand.”
“You want a baby?” I asked.
“I know it’s soon, but…”
I swept her into my arms, kissing her until she melted against me. “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing.”
She could tell by the joy radiating off of me in waves that I wasn’t just saying what she wanted to hear. I pressed my hand to her belly. “I can’t wait until I feel our baby kick.”
Her hands moved up my chest, her eyes shining. “Let’s get home and get started, then.”
“No,” I told her, shaking my head. Picking her up, I carried her to the office, where I’d replaced the small couch with a long, overstuffed one. Yes, I was thinking ahead to long nights alone with Nat in her new place. “Let’s start right now.”
She giggled as I lay her on the couch, running her fingers through my hair. “Do you want a boy or a girl?”
“Both,” I said. “Multiples of both. What about you?”
