Page 140 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

37

Joy

God bless caramel corn.

Combining popcorn—which is already half the reason I used to beg Mom to take me to the Tuesday half-price matinee at the cinema downtown—with caramel—which, as a kid, made something even as unappealing as Granny Smith apples taste good—is nothing short of a stroke of genius.

Or maybe I’m just happy.

Gavril and I are tucked in his massive leather loveseat in his den, watching the election results roll in on the massive wall-sized projector screen ahead of us. Every few minutes, someone pops in to congratulate us or scold Chowder for gobbling fallen caramel corn.

“Yoohoo, Joy!” Mario calls now, waltzing in. He’s all decked out in the lime and fuchsia paisley suit I helped him pick out for the occasion. “Can I just say that your setup outside is ah-mazing? That you need to make this your job? That I have seen no fewer than five people break down in tears it’s so generous?”

“No cameras though,” Gavril growls. “Joy said.”

Mario sighs. “Of course. What do you take me for?”

I smile. I didn’t want any ulterior motive to this charity. Not this time.

“She’s not going back out yet, either.” Gavril tightens his hold around my waist.

I cast him an amused look. “Oh?”

“You were out there for two hours, earlier,” Gavril says. “There’s only thirty minutes before they tally up the final votes.”

“Alright.” I feign a disappointed tone. “I guess I’ll wait around here then.”

Gavril’s squeeze turns into a punishing tickle, and I giggle helplessly.

“You lovebirds,” Mario dismisses us with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand. “Just wanted to give my regards and early congratulations. Anyways, see you!”

Gavril growls under his breath. “We’ll be seeing too much of everybody any minute now. As soon as the results are finalized, that door is going to spit out so many people I’m going to start regretting everything.”

I kiss his cheek. “Still time to change your mind.”

It was a joke, but his face is somber as he kisses my hand, shaking his head. “No. This is for the best. I’ll never be able to step out of my other business if I don’t have some way to still be involved in the city.”

“A.k.a., you like power,” I joke.

“Yeah.” Gavril shrugs. “Sue me.” He catches my eye and we chuckle. “Besides,” he continues, “If I don’t do this, framing Walsh and Osip for all the fighting and destruction will have been for nothing.”

“What about for keeping you out of jail?” I point out.

“That too,” he admits, turning my chin back to the screen. “Now, let’s watch.”

“What will you do if you lose?” I ask with a cheeky smile.

I only dare ask it because he’s got fifty-five percent of the votes already. There’s no way he can lose.

“Take refuge in hot sex with my wife. Move to Greenland. Start ice fishing.”

“And if you win?”

“Hot sex with my wife. No Greenland, though.”

“Sounds like a win-win for me.” I smirk.

His hand slips to my ass and squeezes. “Let’s watch.”

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