55. Bianca

"How long have you been planning this for?" I ask Adrian as we step into a sumptuous ballroom. The orchestra is playing by the side, a beautiful rendition of Blue Danube.

There is no one else inside the room.

In the middle, there is a round table with two chairs waiting for us.

"A month?" He tips his lips up in a mischievous smile. "I've been counting down the days until your contract ran out—and until we got out of Russia." He feigns a shudder.

He's not the biggest fan of Russia, mostly because he"s sick of hearing Amerikanski, followed by an interjection every time he interacted with a Russian. Oh, and the random American brands thrown at him.

The moment my contract ended, two days ago, he announced that he'd booked tickets for a vacation in Venice. I'd been surprised by his choice of location, but when he'd spun some romantic tales about gondolas and carnival masks and some other things I forget, I was convinced. Mostly about the romance aspect. I don't care about weird ass masks and boys on boats. I can drive my boat, thank you very much.

Adrian leads me to the table, pulling the chair for me like a gentleman—my gentleman. As he rounds the table to take his own seat, I let my eyes feast on him. He's wearing a blue velvet suit that complements his olive tone perfectly and accentuates his hazel eyes.

He's handsome—too handsome. Good thing there's no woman in that orchestra to see him since I would have had to escort her out—perhaps give her some drugs to wipe her memory. Actually, what if there are gay men in the orchestra and they're eating him up just as I am, imagining all sorts of lewd scenarios and undressing him with their eyes?

I snap my gaze towards the orchestra.

"All of you. Out."

The notes falter before the music stops a second later.

Adrian's eyes widen in shock and I can tell he's about to make some excuses for me. But I won't have it.

Only I am allowed to have lustful thoughts about my husband. No one else. And yes, he is my husband again, so I have legal claim over him once more.

"Don't make me repeat myself," I say, pulling on my dress to reveal the guns strapped to my thigh. This might be a fancy ballroom, but danger has a way of following me everywhere.

They finally rise from their seats and scurry out of the room.

"B…"

"Now." I smile and sit down. "Where were we?"

"Why did you do that?" He frowns. "Do you know how hard it was to find an all-gay orchestra so I wouldn't think about murdering them the entire night for staring at you?"

I blink. Then narrow my eyes.

I was right. We spent moments in here and they ogled him.

Unacceptable.

"And because of that, they could ogle you. Now I fixed it. You are welcome." I nod at him.

He frowns.

"Welcome? He raises a brow.

"That I am the only one who will ogle you now." I wink at him. "And I forgive you."

He frowns again.

"You forgive me. For?"

Why is he so slow tonight? Never mind, I'll forgive him for that, too.

"For the oversight. It seems we had the same idea about no ogling."

His lips slowly tip up until he gives me such a radiant smile I find myself audibly sighing.

I've been doing this a lot lately. Sighing. But I guess I have had a lot of things to sigh about. Adrian wasn't kidding about the romanticism of Venice. But that is odd too since I've never been a romantic before.

Perhaps it's the fact that I no longer have the stress of my job.

Yes, that must be it. It's also making me more murderous toward everyone who looks at Adrian, and that must be because I'm not killing enough people.

Makes sense.

A waiter comes to our table with a bottle of champagne and fills our glasses before starting us on appetizers.

I take a sip of the champagne and I immediately notice something off.

"This is non-alcoholic," I say. "Why?"

"Well—"

"I hope you're not worried about me. I haven't touched a single substance in over a year. A little alcohol won't do anything to me."

"It's not that. Actually?—"

"I'm really fine, Adrian. I haven't even felt the compulsion to take anything. You don't need to worry about me," I continue.

He sighs, but his lips are curled up in a smile.

"You've been feeling a little tired lately, no?"

I frown. Where is he going with this?

"A little more than usual, but maybe it's that time of the month." I shrug. Though I haven't gotten my period yet. In fact… I don't remember the last time I did.

"You haven't gotten your period in almost three months, B," he comments.

I blink.

"You've kept track?"

"I always keep track."

"But why?"

"I suppose you can imagine why." He smiles.

"But that's impossible. I'm on birth control."

"Are you?" He raises a brow as he takes a sip of his champagne.

I stare at him as I try to make sense of his words.

"Yes, I am. You know I am." I pause. "There must be another explanation for this."

"Another explanation?"

"I'm not pregnant," I state. "I can't be pregnant. I'm on birth control," I repeat like a broken record.

"But what if you might be?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"You mentioned a while back that you were ready to start trying once your contract was over."

"Which is now. Today."

"Yes. That is correct."

"What are you not telling me, Adrian?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"I might have done something to your birth control?" He says innocently before he takes another sip to hide his grin.

"Y-you…" I stare at him. "You might have had something to do with my birth control? You?"

"It takes time to become fertile after you stop taking it." He shrugs.

I stare at him some more, somehow unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Adrian, my Adrian, messed with my birth control? This sweet man? The same Adrian who's always been nothing but gentle and cautious?

"Are you mad?" He asks after a moment.

"Mad? I'm fuming!" I tell him.

He appears stricken at my words.

"You… are?"

"You're telling me you messed with my birth control on purpose and that now I am pregnant?"

"Well, yes."

"You got me pregnant on purpose?"

"Yes."

"God damn it, Adrian!" I burst out.

"Now, B?—"

"I can't believe it took you this long to get on my level. Really, I didn't think you'd ever do it."

"W-what?" He blinks in confusion.

I roll my eyes.

"Let's face it, if the roles were reversed, I would have knocked you up the first chance I got," I tell him matter-of-factly.

"You would have what?" He croaks.

"I would have put a baby in your belly the first time we slept together. Just to make sure you're mine. God, I can't believe it took you this long to do it. Man…" I shake my head as I wipe the moisture away from my eyes. "Well, better later than never. I'm proud of you."

"So just for the record. You are not mad?"

"I'm mad you waited this long to do it. Haven't I given you enough signs?"

"You…have?"

I shake my head. Men.

"Well, I am glad you finally decided to use a little trickery. Though is it really trickery if I wanted you to do it?" I muse aloud.

"You're strange." He chuckles.

"Says the man who messed with my birth control."

"Yeah, well, your brand of strangeness is contagious. Consider me infected."

"That is good." I nod. "But fair warning. I get the naming rights for my offspring."

"Our offspring," he corrects.

"You're lucky I love you. I don't usually like to share."

"I know." He smiles. "I am glad you've decided to share our offspring with me."

"It's going to be a very superior offspring, too. Why, with my good looks and your intellect, and of course, my brand of trickery, since yours is a little underdeveloped, it will be the best offspring ever!"

"Right. I'm happy you're taking the news in stride."

"It's going to be a girl," I state. "And she's going to be beautiful and smart and she's going to break a lot of hearts."

"I'm not sure I want her breaking hearts," he murmurs.

"So you'd rather have others break her heart?"

"Of course not. Can there be no breaking of hearts?"

"No. She's mine. Of course she'll break hearts. It's like imprinted in her DNA."

"And what hearts did you break, B?" His tone becomes serious.

"Oh, all types. You know…"

"No, I don't think I do. Who are we talking about here?"

"I don't know, all the heterosexual men who see me?"

His eyes darken.

"But then they see I am taken and wholeheartedly in love with my husband?"

He's still not smiling.

"And of course their hearts break because I am so unavailable I need to invent a new word to quantify my level of unavailability. So you see, our daughter will inherit that."

"And if it's a boy?"

"Doesn't matter." I wave my hand. "Same breaking of hearts."

"You have it all planned out," he mentioned, amused. His gaze is filled with love as he reaches across the table to grab my hand.

"Of course. In fact, it all works out. Think about it. Our kid will be breaking the hearts. You can break their legs if it's a male—I know you don't hit females. And I can break everything else. See? It's perfect!"

"Your logic is flawless as always, B," he murmurs seductively.

"I'm glad you think so. I've given it a lot of thought." I nod.

It was entirely unexpected to realize I might want to have a child. From the beginning, my fear stemmed from the fact that I wasn't sure whether I would be able to love my child as it deserved. But as I've thought about it more and more, I realized that there is no way I won't be able to love that child. It will be mine.

It will spend nine months in my body, it will feed through me, and it will have half my DNA. Of course, it helps that the other half is that of Adrian, the only other person in the world I can say I love.

"I have another surprise for you," Adrian mentions.

He removes an envelope from under the table and slides it toward me.

I take it and open it to see that it's a picture of a house, with an address underneath it.

"What's this?"

"That is our new country house in Scotland," he explains.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"This isn't a house, babe. It's a freaking mansion."

"Well. I might have gone a little overboard. It has twelve bedrooms. And a large basement that you can turn into a training ground. And expansive grounds so we can perhaps get Mally a companion—or more."

"This must have cost a fortune, though. Where did you get the money?"

"About that…" he trails off and scratches the back of his head. "Before Theodore Hastings died I liquidated all of the assets Jimenez left in his name. Vlad helped me move the funds around to different offshore accounts. I only recently got access to them since I wanted to make sure I covered my tracks first."

"You liquidated Jimenez's assets?" I repeat.

"Only the ones in my name."

"And how much are we talking about?"

"I've even set up a trust fund for our child and?—"

"Adrian, how much?"

He smiles sheepishly.

"A couple hundred million."

I gawk at him.

"A couple hundred…"

"Well, almost three hundred with the interest."

I blink.

"You're telling me you're rich?"

He nods guilty.

"I'm sorry you won't be my sugar mamma anymore. It was nice while it lasted though."

We've been mostly living off my paycheck since he had nothing to his new name. I didn't mind it of course, even though things might have been a bit tighter than I am used to. But this?

He's a freaking multimillionaire!

"I really liked being your sugar mamma though," I grumble. "Though I suppose I can be your sugar baby now."

"Sugar baby?" He chuckles.

"Yup. I am waiting to be spoiled. I am almost a decade younger than you anyway. This works perfectly. Just so you know. I have a very thorough wish list, which I will send you. There are a few weapons in there that might be hard to procure, but I trust you."

"Why doesn't it surprise me that your wishlist is comprised of guns?"

"You bought a mansion with a large basement so I can do my target practice," I counter. "Great decision with the location, by the way. I do love a remote location so no one can bother us."

"I'm happy you approve. I thought you might like it."

I wave my hand at him.

"Enough of the house talk. Let's get back to the part where you're rich now."

"And?" He asks with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he leans back into his seat.

"Well, I suppose I should start practicing my sugar baby role then," I murmur as I get under the table and lay my head on his lap.

he watches me through hooded eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Let's assess those skills then," he drawls as I unzip his pants and nuzzle my cheek against his erection before taking him inside my mouth.

I think I pass with flying colors.