"I love you," she says softly.
"I love you too." I bring her hand to my lips, press a kiss to her knuckles. "Times a million."
She laughs. "I saw."
"The whole city saw."
"You're so ugh, I can’t even."
"You love it."
She squeezes my hand, leans her head against my shoulder. We ride in comfortable silence as Viktor navigates through the streets of Moscow.
Viktor stops the car fifteen minutes later. I help Iris out onto the sidewalk, keeping the blindfold firmly in place.
"Can I take this off now?" she asks.
"Not yet."
I guide her forward with my hands on her shoulders, steering her toward the entrance of the building.
"Ilay, where are we? I don't recognize the sounds."
"Just a few more steps."
I push open the glass doors, lead her into the lobby. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoes through the empty space. The afternoon light pours through the tall windows, illuminates the gold lettering on the wall.
"It smells new," she says. "Like paint and wood."
"You're very observant."
I position her in the center of the lobby facing the wall where her name is displayed.
"Ready?" I ask.
"I've been ready for twenty minutes."
I untie the blindfold. Let it fall.
For a moment she just blinks, adjusting to the light. Then her eyes focus on the wall in front of her. I watch her read the words letter by letter like she can't quite believe what she's seeing.
IRIS IVANOVICH LAW FIRM
She stops breathing.
Her hand comes up to cover her mouth. Her whole body goes still. I can see the exact moment when it hits her, when she understands what this means, when she realizes that this is real.
"What..." Her voice comes out as a whisper. "What is this?"
"It's yours."
She turns to look at me with tears already spilling down her cheeks. "What do you mean it's mine?"
"I mean this building is yours. Your own law firm. You don't have to work for anyone else anymore. You don't have to take clients you don't believe in. You don't have to answer to partners who don't appreciate you." I take her hands in mine, hold them tight. "You can build something that's entirely your own."
She shakes her head like she can't process what I'm telling her. "Ilay, this is too much."
"Nothing is too much for you."
