Ghost (Boston Underworld #3) - A. Zavarelli Page 0,68

to start a family… with me. It was because he married me and I’m broken and he needed to fix that and so this was his solution.

“It wouldn’t matter,” I say stupidly. As though I didn’t already know this. “This was your plan.”

He doesn’t deny it. “I told you I wanted a family.”

But he doesn’t say the words I need to hear. I’ve been so confused, thinking that maybe this meant something to him.

“How will this work?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… it’s an arrangement to you. It’s not like this is a normal marriage. So how will it work?”

“I provide for you,” he answers. “And you will be a mother and wife.”

He doesn’t get it. And I’m not even sure what I need him to say. But I need there to be… more. It’s hope again. Niggling at me. Telling me that I should be able to have it all. But that was never true.

“I don’t even know what you do,” I blurt. “On the computers all day.”

“I run gambling operations for the Vory,” he answers. “And the Irish as well.”

“So what does that mean?” I ask. “It’s illegal. You could get caught. What happens then?”

“I will never get caught,” he scoffs and actually looks insulted. “I am the Ghost.”

His answer doesn’t reassure me, so he tries to.

“I am the best at what I do, Talia. This is why I am invaluable to Viktor. To the Vory. There is nobody else with my skill set. I can assure you of this.”

I do believe him. I’ve seen him work. And I know there is something dangerously genius in that brain of his. But it’s all settling in on me. What I’ve done.

I’ve married into the mafia. Signed a contract that I can’t take back. And now I’m having his baby. This man who has also given his assurances that he could never love me. I didn’t think I would want it. But now… I fear that he is right. That it will never happen.

And I will be lost to him. To this world.

“You spend all day in your office,” I tell him. “Drinking. Working. Playing chess. Is that going to change?”

His brows draw together. “I will help with the baby,” he answers. “It will be our child, Talia. Shared responsibility.”

I swallow, tapping my fingers against my thigh. He doesn’t get it.

“And will we eat dinner together? Go on vacations together? Watch movies, play games…”

Now he is the one who is getting uptight. Every word makes his posture more rigid.

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I am a busy man.”

“Right.” I take a breath and gather my thoughts. “So it will be like it is now. I’ll stay in my room all day. You’ll stay in your office. At night you will fuck me, and we will have a child together, who we share responsibility for.”

He seems confused by my anger. “Is this not what we agreed on? I don’t understand, Solnyshko, what is upsetting you so.”

“I don’t either.” I stare up at the ceiling and rub my temples. “You wanted me to get better. And maybe I have. But you haven’t changed.”

“Why would I change?” he asks, finally getting the point. “This arrangement works for us. It is less messy. No emotions, no feelings. We can both be happy.”

“Right.”

Only, I’m not anymore.

Maybe that’s not fair. Maybe I’m too fucked up and my hopes are too high.

Alexei seems agitated. Anxious to get back upstairs and pour himself another drink. Hole himself away in his office with only his thoughts to keep him company.

“No,” I agree with him. “I think you’re right. I think it’s best this way.”

He nods, content. Relieved. Relieved that I’m asking for nothing from him in this way. That we can carry on as we have been. As though nothing will change. Or has changed.

But everything has changed.

“It’s probably best if I stay in my room,” I tell him. “To keep things the way you want them. Less messy.”

He frowns, but doesn’t argue.

“It’s for the best,” I repeat again.

37

Alexei

“What have you done now?” Magda asks me after she sets down my breakfast.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I answer, turning my attention back to the computer.

She taps on my desk to let me know she is not through.

“You have not spent any time with Talia in over two weeks. She is slipping, Lyoshka. Slipping back into her sadness.”

“She wants things I cannot give her.”

“That is ridiculous,” Magda replies. “You are supposed to give her everything. She is pregnant.