Page 87 of Accidental Mile High Vows

I give a small nod.

He turns back to Silas. “Make it happen. I want the new structure in place by next month.”

After Silas leaves, Ledger and I finish dinner in silence. Then he sets down his fork and looks at me. “You heard all of that.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And what?” I take a sip of water. “You run a criminal organization. I’ve known that for a while now. I’m just finally understanding how big it is.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you. Because you’re the father of my baby. Because this penthouse feels more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived.” I set down my glass. “And because I’m starting to understand that you’re really not a monster. You’re just a man doing what he has to do to protect his family and his empire.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “That’s one way to see it.”

“How do you see it?”

“I see a criminal who got lucky enough to trick a good woman into loving him.”

“I’m not that good. And you didn’t trick me.” I reach across the table and take his hand. “I see exactly who you are, Ledger. All of it. The businessman and the Bratva boss. The hotel magnate and the drug smuggler. The man who threatens people’s families and the man who cries at ultrasound pictures.”

“I didn’t cry.”

“Your eyes got shiny. Same thing.”

That night, lying in bed with my hand on my bump and the city glowing outside, I think about something Marie said about Ledger once.

He’s a good man, even when he’s doing things that aren’t so good.

The legitimate businesses are a cover. I understand that now. The hotels, the real estate, the tech companies. They’re all fronts for the real empire underneath. The shipments from Eastern Europe. The distribution networks. The territory disputes and tribute payments.

Ledger Volkov doesn’t just own businesses. He owns sections of this city. Controls what moves through them. Decides who operates where and who pays what. He’s not just wealthy. He’s powerful in a way most people can’t comprehend.

And I’m his wife.

Three months ago, that realization would have sent me running. It would have had me calling the police, packing my bags, or finding some way to escape.

But now? Now I’m just trying to figure out where I fit in this world he’s built. Because I’m not leaving. Not now. Maybe not ever.

The question isn’t whether I can accept what he does. I’ve already accepted it. The question is what kind of person that makes me.

“Savannah?” Ledger’s voice is sleepy. “You still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Everything. Nothing. Us.”

He pulls me closer. “We’re going to be okay, you know. All three of us.”

“I know.”