The question catches me off-guard. Not because it’s unexpected—Vince trusts no one—but because he’s asking me. Deferring to my judgment.
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “I do.”
He nods. “Give us an hour,” he calls through the door. “We’ll bring her to you.”
Anastasia’s footsteps retreat, and I’m left staring at my husband, curiosity piqued.
“What exactly are you planning?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
Vince smirks, that dangerous curl of his lips that still makes my stomach flip after all this time. “Get dressed. Wear something nice. I’ll take Sofiya to them, and I want you ready when I get back.”
“A celebration.” He rises from the bed, magnificently naked and unashamed. “We’ve earned one, don’t you think?”
An hour later, I’m dressed in a simple black slip dress, waiting for Vince
