“You can come and manage this restaurant. Or the boutique.”
“Rodion,” I said his name in a warning tone.
“Yes, darling.” He took my hand, his gaze never leaving mine.
I sighed, deciding to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Oh, by the way, I got you this.” I pushed the small bag towards him. “Happy birthday, Rodion.”
His eyes dropped to the bag, and confusion flickered across his face. For a second, I thought maybe I’d gotten the date wrong.
“It’s November fifth,” I said, hoping I hadn’t embarrassed myself.
“Yes.” He looked up again, still holding my hand. “That slipped my mind.”
I pulled my hand free. “Open it.”
Rodion reached into the bag and pulled out the wallet. A rare smile curved his lips. “Now look at this.”
“You like it?”
He opened it, checked inside, and then looked at me. “Yes.” He did. The look on his face said everything.
“I’m glad,” I said, grinning. “There is something else.” I took the bag and handed him the small box. “So you know, it was hard finding something that felt right for you. So you’d better love this one too.”
He opened it and stared inside for a few seconds before rubbing his forehead with a laugh. “R & A,” he read our initials aloud, eyes glinting.
“Why are you laughing?”
Rodion took the black leather bracelet and ran his fingers along the engraving. “I’m surprised you didn’t write A & A.”
I laughed. “Don’t tease me. And in my defense, you wore rings with Artur’s name, and your dagger had his name on it. What did you expect?”
“I love it, Little Gem.”
He slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, still wearing that unguarded smile. “How did you know?”
Chuckling, I flipped my hair. “I have many ways.” I teased, knowing full well his grandmother had told me while showing me an old album of the three brothers. “But if you must know, your grandmother mentioned it when she was showing me your old pictures.”
“Hm.” He took a sip. “When was this? Before you decided to run away from home?”
That made me chuckle. “Rodion, my parents’ house is also my home.”
He smirked. “I’m sure your father knows where yourreal homeis, baby. Stop rebelling.”
Rodion always had a way of winning arguments, not by pressure, but by confidence.
The waiter returned with our food, setting down our plates and refilling the glasses. Once he was gone, we began to eat.
“I wanted to spend time with Papa and Mamma,” I said, twirling the stem of my glass. “And … well, I have to admit, your grandmother is determined to have great-grandchildren.”
His brows drew together. “She said that?”
“I got a stomach issue and threw up, and she believed it had to be a pregnancy.”
Rodion went still before asking, “You never told me you were sick?”
“It wasn’t serious—”
“Little Gem.” His tone softened, but his expression didn’t. He set down his fork and knife, leaning forward slightly. “When I said I have to know everything, I meanteverything. Even if it’s just a headache.”