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I didn’t understand him. Stanislav wasn’t reckless, not by nature and not by reputation. He wasn’t the impulsive pakhan I was. He could be just as ruthless, but he was measured in his approach. Calculated. Where I struck in the heat of the moment, he waited, watched, weighed every angle, then moved only when the outcome was in his favor.

And yet… with us? He was careless. Fearless. Holding my hand out in the open. Kissing me in the snow like our world wasn’t always on the hunt for leverage. Acting as though consequences couldn’t touch us if Chicago caught wind.

Did he trust his men that deeply that word wouldn’t get back? Were they so loyal that he believed they’d guard this secret with their lives? Or did he simply not care about the fallout? Not because he was reckless…but because, for some insane reason, he’d already decided I was worth the risk.

After three blocks of silence, my curiosity consumed me from the inside out.

“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going? We’ve been walking forever.”

“No.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He hummed like the bastard was proud of himself.

We turned the corner, and the quiet neighborhood gave way to light. Color. Music. A winter market unfurled in front of us, rows of wooden stalls wrapped in garland and twinkling bulbs, people bundled in coats holding steaming cups, vendors selling pastries, ornaments, knitted hats, and things no one needed but everyone suddenly wanted.

The air smelled like cinnamon, caramel, and roasting chestnuts.

Stas stopped beside me, face neutral but eyes warm. “Thought you might like it.”

For a moment, I forgot how to speak. I’d never been to one of these. My Christmases had been condoms, flavored lube, orgies, and the best vodka swallowed because it was easier than feeling anything at all.

This?

This felt like stepping into a life I didn’t know I craved.

“Come on.” He nudged my shoulder. “You’re staring like you’ve never seen Christmas lights before.”

“Keep making fun of me, and you won’t come anywhere near my dick later.”

Stas laughed, tugging at my hand. “You’re the one who wants to be tied up, gagged, choked, and ridden into an early grave.”

“Nobody said anything about being choked,” I muttered, looking up at him through my lashes. “But I won’t say no.”

The first stall we came upon sold fresh cinnamon rolls. Two older women, who, by the way they were looking at each other, were romantically involved, took one look at us and handed us two without waiting for us to place an order.

“On the house,” she said with a wink.

I frowned. “Why? We can pay.”

I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, so I bit down into mine and moaned at the flavors exploding on my tongue. Mine had icing on top and was still warm despite the cold.

“Because we’ve been watching you since you entered the market,” the one wearing a green reindeer sweater said. “Rarely do we meet people with energies so aligned. We can tell you two are soulmates. Reminds me of when Silvie and I met over three decades ago.”

I choked on the sweet bun and coughed into my fist. Stas smacked my back a bit harder than necessary. We didn’t get to respond as a family with four kids showed up, stealing the vendors’ attention.

Stas pulled me away from the stall, and we resumed walking. “She’s delusional.”

“Very delusional.” I licked cinnamon from my fingers. “We’re not soulmates.”

“Definitely not.” Stas handed me his cinnamon bun. “She wouldn’t be saying that if she knew how many times we’ve tried offing each other.”

“Thanks, they’re really good.” I bit into the second bun and chewed. “We’re completely incompatible.”

“Utter disaster.”

We paused.