Page 12

Mikhail

The last time I made plans for an event was my grandfather’s burial. Even then, I hired people to do most of the planning. I only gave the important details, told them what I expected, and abandoned the rest. Even with the Bratva, I delegate all of the planning and organizing to Enzo. I preferred the hands-on duty and the numbers, not mundane things like color themes and guest lists. But tonight was different. Everything had to be perfect to a ‘T,’ and the only way I could ensure that was by taking most of the planning into my hands.

Arielle had a very particular taste and a lot of irks. Even her hobbies were particular. She could love a part of a project and want nothing to do with the other side of it. Details as intricate as those were not what you can leave up to a total stranger who claims to know what they’re doing. They’re details that could only be executed by a person who had a deep understanding of who she was. So, here I was at the gallery at six p.m., making sure everything was set and ready for her arrival at seven.

When she mentioned her birthday was on the 18th during one of our question and answer nights, a weekly routine she liked to organize that consisted of questions about each other that should help us get to know ourselves better, I knew I had a very short time to come up with something.

I could’ve easily sent her flowers, taken her on a shopping spree, and even sent her some money, but she wasn’t just any girl, and I was aiming for something different. Our three-week agreement was slowly coming to an end, and I found myself thinking of something more stable, something more permanent.

She has made me happy in a way no woman has, and in loving her, I’ve come to discover new versions of myself I was loving. There was no way I was going to let her slip from my hands. So, I got to work immediately, and how better to go than through the one thing she loved the most, Art?

I had Enzo find me the most beautiful art gallery, and I paid double of every piece in the gallery to have it shut down for the day. I observed the decor, checking the lighting and the food on the dinner table to make sure everything was perfect. Satisfied with the outcome of things, it was finally time to go get her.

****

“Hey,” she greeted, walking up to me with a smile.

My eyes raked through her body, taking her all in. It didn’t matter that I had already seen her naked, buried myself balls deep into her, or that I woke up next to her and had been with her since yesterday, this woman would always knock the air out of my lungs.

“Is this the dress you wore at the club?” I asked, my eyes glued to her.

“You said it was a special night, and I thought how better to make a night special than to recreate the moment I met you.” She stood before me, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

I trailed my fingers through the thin strap of the dress, feeling her breath hitch as I moved my fingers to the deep cut of the dress in her neck. I felt like I had traveled back in time and was reliving the night I spotted her dancing in my club. I could remember our first conversation, the sound of her laughter, our first kiss, everything.

“I’ve never been happier to have been at the club at the time,” I said, and she smiled in return.

I dropped my hands from her body, putting a safe distance between us before I forgot what the purpose of the night was. There’ll be time for other things, a lot of time. But now, there was something more important.

I held the car open for her. “After you.”

The drive to the gallery was swift and consisted of Arielle asking me where we were going and what I had planned for the short duration.

We finally arrived at the gallery, and I found my heart picking a ridiculous pace. I felt like a teenager taking his crush on a first date and hoping she’d like what he planned. That was stupid. Arielle would like this. No, Arielle would love this. It was very deep in her element. There was no need for panic.

Panic. Even the word had a weird taste to it. I would so much love to deny it, but even I couldn’t disagree with the fact that I was panicking a little bit.

“Ready?” I asked, gripping the door handle.

“Ready for an art gallery? I’d be ready on my deathbed.”

A light chuckle left me, and I felt lighter. It was another thing I loved about her, how she made everything easier.

I mentally counted to three before pulling the door open and stepping aside to usher her in. I stood still as she walked in, watching her face for any form of reaction. She appeared confused at first before realization dawned on her, and she spun to face me.

“You set this up?” she asked, taking in the decor. I had asked for most of the artwork to be taken in, except a few I found interesting, and the rest of the space was replaced with reflections of Van Gogh’s starry night. I wanted her to feel like she had been transported onto the canvas.

“You like it?” I asked, watching her face. She looked surprised, shocked at her marrows, and I found the jealous side of me, hoping no other guy had done this for her in the past. I wanted everything about this night to be new, pure, and untainted.

“Do I like it? I love it! I love it, Mikhail. This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me,” she exclaimed, throwing herself into my arms.

I hugged her tightly, a fluffy feeling growing in my chest. “I’m glad you love it. Happy Birthday, princess.” I captured her lips in a quick kiss.

“This way,” I said, leading her to the little dining setup.

“I know this might be considered rude by many, but I’m really asking this from a place of awe and pleasant surprise. How did you do this?” she asked, looking around the gallery as she settled into her chair.

“I rented the gallery out for the night,” I supplied, not giving out further information.

“And the starry night? How did you do it? I feel like I’m inside Van Gogh’s art.” She rambled off, her voice heavy with excitement.

I chuckled, pulling out a plate and dishing out her dinner since she was too excited to do that for herself. “Why don’t we focus on the night for now? I could give you every detail you need to know about later.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really—it’s just too. Everything is so beautiful.” She rambled, and a smile stretched out my lips.

“So, how was brunch with the girls?” I asked, placing the plate of pasta and grilled salmon in front of her.

“It was fun.” She smiled, closing her eyes like she was conjuring up the moment. “We had tea, and we talked about everything and anything. We played a couple of games, and they presented me with gifts.”

She had the goofiest smile, and I could feel the fluffy feeling from earlier return to my chest. “I’m glad you had a great day.”

“I’m having a better night.” Her voice softened, and she smiled softly at me, and in that moment, I knew I would do anything to keep the smile on her face.

“What about you? How was your day?”

“It was okay. Bland, tasteless, and full of work calls.”

“Work calls? Did something happen?”

“Not at all. I had to work from home today, hence the calls,” I replied. I had forsaken going to see my prisoner today in favor of her birthday. Going to see the bastard would ruin my day and leave me with a bitter aftertaste, and that wasn’t a feeling I wanted to tap into today.

“Arielle,” I started, taking her hands in mine. I had no speech planned, but I know how she makes me feel, and that’s all that matters. “The past weeks have been the brightest my life has ever been, and it’s all thanks to you. You’ve touched parts of my soul I thought were nonexistent, and you’ve brought warmth to my cold world. Our deal is coming to an end, and I’d like to renegotiate terms.”

I paused, giving her time to take in what I was saying.

“I want this to become real, I want you in my life, I want you everywhere, and I want the world to know you’re mine. Be my woman, Arielle,” I said, and if my ears weren’t so sharp, I would her missed her sharp intake of air.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, looking at me with questioning eyes.

What did she mean by Are you sure about this?

“I’ve never been more sure in my life,” I replied, and a shy smile overtook her face. How she managed to be the same girl that choked on my dick and begged me to fuck her senseless and still be able to blush at the little things will always have me weak in the knees.

“Yes, Mikhail, there’s nothing I’d want more,” she said, her smile widening and her eyes twinkling more.

I found myself smiling in return and placing kisses on her fingers. I suddenly felt very whole and fulfilled.

“Now that’s settled, for the most important question of the night,” I added, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten.

“There’s more?” Her eyes doubled in size.

“Arielle, I’d like for you to move in with me.” There, I finally dropped the bomb.

Her brows knit together in confusion as the weight of my words settled. “You want me to move in with you? Isn’t that too soon? You just asked me to be your girlfriend minutes ago.”

I expected these questions: Isn’t that too soon? Aren’t we moving too fast and whatnot? The difference between men in the Bratva and regular men was how we didn’t let stupid rules define us. When you find a girl you’d love to marry for whatever reason you’d love to marry her, you go straight to the point. There was no need to move from girlfriend to fiancé and from fiancé to wife. If she agrees, you can even wed her on the spot.

“Arielle, like I already said, the past weeks with you have been the happiest weeks of my life, and I’m not willing to let go of that. There’s nothing to think about. I made up my mind about you a long time ago.”

“You’ve made up your mind a long time ago about me?” I could tell she was freaking out, and I needed to tone it down a bit.

“Hey, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. I’m just saying that I’d love to have you around more. We can figure out everything else from there.”

She paused for a while, digesting all I’d said while I watched in the hope she’d say yes.

When she left this morning, a sudden emptiness and chill set into my house, and I knew I didn’t want her coming and going. Even more than anything, I despised the feeling of emptiness that settled in after she left.

“Babe,” she said, gently stroking my hand. “I’d love to spend every moment with you, but I think we might be moving too fast. What if this is just a rush of excitement? I don’t want us to make decisions that’ll cause us to crash and burn. How about we take our time to enjoy every stage of our relationship? Build enough memories and resilience for the next phase?”

She was scared I was making rushed decisions out of excitement. That was one thing I never did. When I make up my mind about something, it’s never out of immediate gratification. It’s because I want to.

“I’m not making rushed decisions or impulsive proposals. I’m sure of what I want and—”

“I know, baby. I know, but let’s give it time. It’ll happen organically. You won’t even need to ask me. You’d just wake up and slowly find my things in your house till you’ll be forced to give me my own side of the wardrobe.” She grinned, and even though I wasn’t exactly thrilled by her answer, I found myself returning her smile with a slight nod.

“Alright. Let’s get into how you were able to pull this out. I’m literally dying from the excitement inside me, and I’ll be telling my friends all about it.” Her grin widened and she was almost bouncing like a child on her seat.

If time was what she needed, then she had all the time she needed. I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.