“Tempting,” I tease. “But I have something else in mind.”
I help her settle back into the couch, tucking a throw over her legs before stealing one more kiss—deep and full of promise. “Don’t worry, Dea. It will be perfect. I swear it.”
Then I excuse myself to lock myself away in my office.
Iwillfix this.
A few minutes later, I’m elbow-deep in shipping dashboards and logistics portals, tracing her Mistle & Maple and Twinkling Ivy Co. orders through blocked routes and backup warehouses. When I find the shipment, three hours away, stalled at a frozen distribution center, I make a call.
“Romeo,” I say calmly. “I need you to assemble a team.”
“…the Armenians hit?”
“No, I need you to head to a warehouse.”
“We’re intercepting a shipment?”
“Of sorts. Bring the SUV. You’re picking up garland.”
“Garland Boss?”
“Yes Romeo, garland.”
There’s a long pause on the phone.
“Garland,” Romeo repeats slowly, like he’s waiting for the punchline. “Garland… as in fuzzy festive shit?”
“Christmasgarland. For my wife.”
He clears his throat. “Boss, with all due respect... you want me to take a team to retrieve...Christmas decorations?”
“Yes.” I lean back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s important.”
“More important than security? The perimeter checks? The—”
“Romeo,” I cut in, voice dropping low. “My pregnant wife is upset about garland. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
The line goes silent.
“Pregnant?” he finally whispers, sounding both terrified and awed. “Congratulations, boss.”
“Thank you. Now get my wife her fucking garland.”
“I’ll get Enzo and Marco. We’ll leave in fifteen.”
“Good. And Romeo?”
“Yes, Boss?”
“Don’t come back without every piece of garland on that manifest. Every. Single. One.”
“Understood.”
I rattle off the warehouse location and hang up, feeling a strange mix of pride and absurdity. I’ve sent teams to intercept weapons shipments, to secure drop points, to handle threats. Never for garland.
But for Vasilisa? I’d move mountains. Garland is nothing.
I check the time. Almost noon.
