Patting him on the back, I head inside, fully content.
It’s been a good day.
Chapter Four
Matteo
It takes three days to hear anything from Anya. So long that I almost didn’t expect her to reach out at all. After the first forty-eight hours of radio silence, I assumed Anton changed his mind and didn’t give her my number.
But just five minutes ago I woke up to her first text. Only four words. Four words that I could almost hear in her sweet, slightly-accented voice when I tried hard enough.
Hello, this is Anya.
Short and simple.
If it were up to me, I would have gotten her phone number from Anton rather than him taking mine. Girls almost always hate initiating texting conversation. Especially shy ones like Anya. I couldn’t exactly suggest this to the Russian Pakhan, though. He could have changed his mind as soon as I said a single word he didn’t like.
Still, I have no way of knowing if her shyness caused the delay, or if it was her father’s reluctance to allow communication between the two of us. Maybe he took a few days to give her mycontact, maybe he wrote it down and burned it and had to call my dad to get it again.
Either way, we’re in contact now. A victorious smile spreads across my face as I read her first message again, awake enough now to know that I’m not dreaming it. It’s very much real. Anya Morozov texted me.
Not wanting to keep her waiting, I send a quick message back as I roll out of bed and pad into the bathroom.
Matteo
Hey, Anya. It’s Matteo. How are you? I’ll send a pic of the twins in just a minute to confirm my identity.
Setting my phone down but turning the ringer up, I get to work emptying my bladder and waking myself up.
I’m drying my face after washing it with cold-ass water when my phone dings again.
Anya
To confirm your identity?
I grin, walking out of the ensuite bathroom and through my bedroom. It’s a fucking mess in here right now. Clothes all over the floor, shoes that haven’t been put back in my closet, and pillows scattered about. But the state of my living quarters are currently not my problem. It’s not like I’m expecting company. The only people who ever visit my room anymore are related to me.
Matteo
Of course! How do you know that your dad isn’t the one texting you from a fake number otherwise?
Her typing bubble pops up for a few seconds and then disappears. Silly girl probably doesn’t know what the heck to say to that.
I have that effect on people.
Jogging, I make it to the bottom of the stairs before she responds.
Anya
I don’t think my father would suggest that if he was planning to impersonate you.
I knew she was clever.
Matteo
Solid point. I’m still going to send a pic of the kids, though. Better safe than sorry. *Shrugging man emoji*
Bare feet navigating through my maze of a house, I blindly follow the sound of little giggles and distant conversation. It’s just past 10:00 a.m. now, which means the kids have already devoured breakfast and are probably having playtime in the family room. Some mornings I attempt to wake up earlier and help with breakfast, but these kids wake up at indecent times. Sometimes as early assix!
