Page 25 of Accidental Mile High Vows

He raises an eyebrow. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. We both know this deal can’t move forward with both of us involved. So one of us walks away, or neither of us gets the property.” I slide my phone across the table. “That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

Dmitri looks at the number. His expression doesn’t change, but I see the calculation in his eyes. He’s weighing whether the money is worth giving me the win.

Finally, he nods. “Deal.”

“Smart choice.”

“Don’t mistake this for weakness, Volkov.” He stands, buttoning his jacket. “We still have unfinished business.”

“I’m aware.”

“Good.” He turns to Peterson. “Mr. Peterson, pleasure doing business with you. Though I’d suggest being more careful about who you invite to the same meeting in the future.” He leaves, and the tension drains from the room.

Peterson looks like he might pass out. “Mr. Volkov, I apologize. I had no idea?—”

“You should have.” I turn to my lawyers. “Draw up the paperwork. I want this closed by the end of the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

Silas follows me out of the hotel. Once we’re in the car, he says, “That was too close.”

“It was fine.”

“He’s in the city, boss. That’s not a coincidence.”

“I know.”

“You think he knows about her?”

I think about Savannah and how exposed she is, working in my building, living in an apartment I could find in thirty seconds.

“Not yet,” I say. “But he will eventually.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Increase security around the building. Discreetly. I don’t want her knowing.”

“And if he makes a move?”

“Then we’ll handle it.” I look out the window at the city passing by. “But not until I figure out how to make my wife remember she married me.”

Silas is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “You really care about her.”

“I married her.”

“You also married her in a Vegas chapel on a drunken whim. That’s not exactly a declaration of eternal love.”

He’s not wrong. But he’s not entirely right either.

“She’s mine,” I say simply. “And that’s all that matters.”

I’m in my office two days later when I get the report. Savannah worked until 9:00 PM last night, took the south stairwell down, and caught a cab home. Same routine as last week.

She’s still avoiding me.

I pull up the security footage from the marketing department, watch her at her desk, typing away, completely focused. She’s good at her job. Better than good, actually. The reports she’s been turning in are sharp, insightful, and exactly what I need for the Q4 campaigns. My wife is smart. Beautiful. Stubborn as hell.