Chapter 23 "That kiss was something else, brother." Pavel's grin is wide enough to split his face. "You almost had me convinced for a second there." "That's the point, idiot." "The point," Osip interrupts, setting down his coffee, "is to make people believe you two have been together for a year. Not five minutes." I lean back in my desk chair, studying their faces. "We didn't accomplish that?" Pavel and Osip exchange a look that makes my jaw tighten. "You look smitten with each other," Pavel explains carefully. "But it's the kind of smitten that screams 'new relationship.'" "She looks at you like a lovesick teenager," Osip underscores. "Puppy dog eyes. And you look at her like you want to devour her whole. Which, don't get me wrong, is hot as hell to watch, for those so voyeuristically inclined. But it's not exactly the vibe of a couple who's been together almost a year." Gnashing my teeth together, I grab the darts from the board and rejoin them at the far end of the room. The metal tip feels cold and sharp against my palm. "So what are you saying?" "I'm saying she needs to know more than just your name and your nephew's allergy," Osip replies. "She needs to know what kind of coffee you drink in the morning. How you like your eggs. Whether you sleep on the left or right side of the bed." "She needs a crash course in being your girlfriend," Pavel summarizes. "Poor girl," Osip mumbles. The word hits different than it ought to. Girlfriend. Like it means something real. "Today wasn't good enough," I say with a scowl. "If we had more discerning eyes on us, we would've failed, and this custody arrangement would've been shot to hell. She needs to be better. We both do." "Ko, be real. How the hell do you expect to sell a year-long relationship when you met her three weeks ago?" Osip asks bluntly. I line up my shot and release. The dart hits dead center. "That's another bullseye." "Fuck." Osip reaches for his wallet. "How much do I owe you now?" "Eleven grand. But I'm feeling generous today, so we'll stop there." I walk away from the table, pulling out my phone. My fingers hover over her contact for a moment before I press call. She answers on the second ring. It's been only a few hours since I dropped her back off at her apartment and still, the sound of her voice fills me with a relief that I can't quite put my finger on. "Kovan? Is everything okay? Is Luka hurt?" "Luka's fine. He's safe at home with his nanny." "Thank God." Her exhale is audible through the phone. "What's wrong then?" "We have a problem." Silence yawns between us. I can hear movement on her end, the rustle of fabric. I can't help but wonder what she's wearing. "What kind of problem?" "We need to play our parts well, Vesper. We can't afford to make anyone suspicious. And let's face it-that bitch of a social worker was plenty suspicious before she even met you." "I thought we did fine at your office today. Didn't we?" "'Fine' isn't good enough, Vesper. Not when Luka's future is on the line." I pace to the window, watching the city lights flicker below. "You need to know me. Really know me. My habits, my preferences, everything." Her laugh is soft. "I could make flashcards. Study you like I'm cramming for boards." "You can study all you want-as long as you do it from my house." The line goes quiet. When she speaks again, her voice is different. Careful. "What do you mean?" "Move in with me." "Move in?" she chokes out. "Kovan, I can't⁠-" "You can and you will. We have forty-five days to convince a judge we're serious about each other. Living together is the fastest way to⁠-" "No." I pull up short. "Pardon?" "I said no. I'm not moving in with you." Heat flares in my chest. "Why the hell not?" "Because I need to be close to the hospital. Because I have my own life, my own space. But mostly because I don't want to." "Vesper-" "I have to go. The hospital's paging me." The call goes dead. I stare at my phone, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. She hung up on me. She actually fucking hung up on me. When I return to the game room, Pavel and Osip stop their conversation mid-sentence. "Everything alright?" Pavel asks, eyeing my hands. I look down to find my fists clenched white. "Get me some moving boxes," I tell them. "And a truck. First thing tomorrow morning, we will meet them at Vesper's apartment." Pavel's eyebrows shoot up. "She agreed to move in?" "She will." Osip whistles low. "This should be interesting." I slam my phone on the table. Because I don't want to. Like what she wants matters more than what Luka needs. Like her comfort is more important than my nephew's safety. But even as I tell myself I don't give a damn what she wants, a voice in the back of my head whispers the truth I'm not ready to face. Maybe I do care. Maybe I care too much.