Page 22 of Scarlet Vows (Yegorov Bratva #3)

As the cold vodka warms and soothes some of my anger, I take the bottle to the desk and put it down, spying the piece of paper I put in my pocket yesterday.

I smooth it out, looking at the number.

Without thinking, I make the call. It’s just eight o’clock, so it’s a little late, so I’m hoping?—

“Hello, Eva speaking.”

“I’m sorry to call so late, but I’m Ilya, Alina’s husband, and she mentioned a dog she fell for. Albert? If he’s still there, I’d love to meet him. This is with the intention of adopting him as well as making a sizable donation in his name. It’ll be a surprise for Alina. A late wedding present.”

For a moment, she doesn’t speak. “That’s very generous, and they have bonded, but…my concern is the dog. He’s special, older, and he’s been through a lot. While I’d adopt to her immediately, I don’t want this to be a present now and a burden later situation. ”

“Nothing’s a burden where Alina’s concerned,” I say. “The reason I’m calling late is with Alina spending so much time there, right now is the only time I can do this without her knowing. And I’m very much a dog person. We have a huge house, staff, and grounds. It’s a dog’s dream.”

“I’m sure it is,” she says, “but Albert isn’t going to be bounding all over the grounds. And he’s not going to be happy if he’s in the care of staff. He’s a people dog, his people dog, if that makes sense.”

“It does.”

I don’t understand why she isn’t jumping up and down. The dog and Alina love each other, so… But I don’t work with animals; she does.

“As I said, I’m very much a dog person, but I do understand not all dogs are suited to all types of people, and if Albert’s as special as you both say, he’d need to bond with both his humans.”

“Yes. I pride myself in making sure the more special dogs are perfectly homed.”

“That’s why,” I say to her, picking up my keys and wrapping my fingers around them, “I’d like to meet Albert before committing to the adoption.”

She breathes out with a rush of air. “I’m still here. So if you’d like to come down and meet him, I’ll be here for another half an hour.”

“I’ll see you in twenty.”

The traffic’s quiet enough that I pull the SUV up in front of the shelter in fifteen minutes, and the black-haired beauty lets me in.

At one time, she would have been my type. But Eva isn’t now. She’s not Alina.

But all that goes by the wayside as she takes me through to the dogs. They’re all happy to see someone, and it breaks my heart not to take them all home with me. The grounds are big enough, but I have enough issues without a whole dog colony invading.

Besides, that’s not a solution.

She opens a cage, and a dog, a corgi mix with melting brown eyes, shuffles out, looking to see if there are treats. Then he sees me.

I bend down and hold out my hand.

“Hi, Albert. I’m Ilya. I know your girlfriend, Alina. I’m a little jealous of you…” I chuckle as he comes up, tail wagging as he pushes his nose into my palm, and then he licks my hand. “See, I knew you were a player.”

Albert gives Eva a glance, and then he barks once, a soft bark that sounds happy. He rushes up to press into me and manages to squash himself between my thighs as I sit, and he puts his paws on one leg.

Then he looks up, his tail going crazy, and I scratch his ears, stroke his soft fur. He makes a huffy sound.

“Oh my,” whispers Eva, a note of sadness in her voice. “My Albert.”

I glance at her.

“I’m very protective. I told you he was special. He guarded his owner when he died for three days until help came. His food and water were almost gone, and it was clear Albert only left his side long enough to drink and eat enough to stay alive.”

“Oh, Albert,” I say. “You’re a good, special dog, aren’t you?”

He huffs in agreement as his tail slaps my other leg, and I scratch his ears again, his little warm, round body pressing against me.

“I’ve only seen Albert react this warmly, this immediately, to two people. You and Alina. With all he’s been through, the kill shelter I saved him from, people bouncing him from place to place before that, he’s usually very shy until he gets to know someone.”

“Albert’s forever home could be with me and Alina,” I say. “If you’ll let me adopt him.”

She laughs softly. “I think he adopted you.”

I pick him up, carry him to the front room, and set him on the counter while Eva gets all his things. There are papers to sign, and the shelter sells new bedding, which I purchase, along with bowls, food, and toys.

Of course, Albert watches all this with trusting eyes and some curiosity, but while I keep my hand on his back, something vibrates inside him. It grows stronger until he’s shaking, and it’s not until we look at each other that I realize what it is. Excitement.

He knows he’s coming with me.

Albert whines at Eva, who hugs him. I double the amount of the donation I was planning to make, and then I pay for Albert and all his things.

“He’s had his shots, and he’s healthy.” Eva looks at me. “What do I tell Alina?”

“It’s just tonight that she’ll be in the dark. Tomorrow she’ll have her gift.” I pause. “I might miss her in the morning since I’ll sleep in the guest room with Albert, so if she does come in, please keep it a secret.”

“Then you’ll have to bring him in. I’m not breaking her heart for an entire day.”

“Tell her he was adopted by the perfect couple.”

She smiles. “Deal.”

Once I’ve transferred everything to the car, Eva hugs Albert goodbye. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a forever goodbye; it’s a for-now one. I bet Alina will take him in regularly.

Albert gets in the front seat, and I drive home. I ferry everything in and up to my room before I take Albert with me .

“You’ll have to be quiet. No barking.”

He sniffs the air, his tail working overtime.

When we’re in the room, I set up a food and water station and lay out his toys. Then I set up his bed, putting the bedding he’s used to on top of the big, soft, brand-new dog bed.

“Okay, Albert,” I say. “That’s you, and this bed is me.”

But Albert has other ideas.

He jumps on my bed and curls up. I take him back down.

He whines then jumps back up.

This happens again and again, his whine louder each time.

Finally, after about ten rounds of Albert versus man, we stare each other down.

“Is this it?”

Albert lifts his head like he’s nodding.

“If you stay here, you’ll be quiet?”

His tail thumps the bed. Then he yawns and curls up.

Apparently, the only solution for Albert is sharing my bed with me.

I shower, and when I come to bed, Albert scooches over, offering me the patch he kept warm.

Man zero. Dog one.