Page 112 of Bride of Vengeance
"Sexy watermelons."
"That's not a thing."
"It is now." He leans over to kiss my temple. "Let me drive."
"I can drive!"
"To Mila's baby shower?"
"It's my baby shower."
"Where Mila has invited half of Chicago's Russian community that don’t even know you?"
I give up, switching seats with as much grace as a pregnant whale can manage. He's right anyway—Mila's turned what was supposed to be a small gathering into an event that probably requires its own security detail.
The drive to the Morozov estate is peaceful. November in Chicago is gray and cold, but the heated seats and Mikhail's hand on my thigh make it cozy.
"Rodriguez called," he says as we merge onto the highway.
"About?"
"Two more trafficking victims came forward. Harrison's network was bigger than we thought."
"How many does that make?"
"Fifty-three confirmed."
Fifty-three women whose lives Harrison destroyed. The number makes my chest tight with rage and sorrow.
"We're testifying next month," I remind him.
"I know."
"Are you ready for that? Publicly being connected to all of this?"
"Ghost is testifying. Mikhail Kozlov is just a security consultant who happened to marry a brilliant FBI agent."
"Former FBI agent."
"You could go back. Williams said the offer stands."
"With twins? I don't think so." I place his hand on my belly where one of them is doing gymnastics. "Feel that?"
His expression softens in a way that still makes my heart skip. "They're strong."
"Of course. They're ours."
"Ours."
"Have you thought more about names?"
"No Russian names."
"No Spanish names that you can't pronounce."
"I can pronounce Spanish names!"
"Say 'Alejandro.'"
