She’s sitting on the grass while Mila braids flowers into a chain and Alexei digs in the dirt with a small shovel. She looks up when she hears my footsteps, and her entire body goes rigid.
We haven’t spoken since yesterday. Since my study. Since she left with my marks still on her skin.
“Get dressed,” I tell her. “Something appropriate for business. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”
She stands slowly. “Where are we going?”
“The docks. I have a meeting.”
“Then go to your meeting. I’ll stay here with the twins.”
“No. You’re coming with me.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my wife. People need to see us together. This is part of the arrangement.”
Her jaw tightens. “I’m not going.”
I step closer, lowering my voice so the children won’t hear. “Yes, you are. You can walk to the car willingly, or I can have Pavel escort you. Your choice.”
She glares at me for a long moment. Then she turns to the twins. “Mila, Alexei, go inside with Elena. I need to change clothes.”
“But Mama—” Mila starts.
“Now, please.”
The children run toward the house. Anna watches them go, then looks back at me with pure hatred in her eyes.
“Twenty minutes,” I say again.
Eighteen minutes later, she’s in the backseat of the car beside me. She’s wearing a black dress, heels, and her hair is pulled back. She looks like what she is—the wife of someone powerful. She also looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.
The driver pulls out of the estate. Anna stares out the window without speaking.
My phone rings. Maxim.
“Talk,” I say.
“We have a problem with the shipment from Odessa.” His voice crackles slightly over the connection. “Customs flagged three containers. They’re holding them at the port.”
“What’s in them?”
“Two containers have the legitimate cargo. Textiles, electronics. The third has the rifles.”
I glance at Anna. She’s still staring out the window, but her posture has changed. She’s listening.
“How many rifles?” I ask.
“Four hundred. AK-pattern. Plus ammunition.”
“Who’s the buyer?”
“Markov’s people in Kyiv. They’ve already paid half upfront.”
“Then get the containers released. Pay whoever needs to be paid.”
“I tried. The customs official wants fifty thousand USD per container.”
