Page 146 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

Not exactly, but I’ve always had a bit of working-class guilt at wasting an entire day, no matter how much I needed it.

There’s a message from an unknown number on my phone, though. I-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g …

Hi, Joy, I’m your pilot, Amman. On the roof.

It was sent twenty minutes ago, but hopefully Amman is a patient pilot. Besides, Gavril never told me when the helicopter ride was happening.

I text Amman back:You still up there? Sorry I just saw this!

The reply is instantaneous:Yes. Ready when you are.

Hm. Part of me wants to laze about here and UberEats another cinnamon raisin bagel or ten, but another, stronger part of me wants to see what the big deal about this helicopter ride is.

So, I get up, put on the pretty new black and blue panel dress Gavril laid out on the bed for me, and then go to the elevator and take it up to the top.

Just as I step out and am wondering how the hell I actually get to this apparent helicopter roof, an olive-skinned man steps out.

“Hello, Mrs. Vaknin.”

“Hi…” Still weirds me out, people knowing my name who I’ve never been introduced to. “You’re Amman?”

No, he’s just the other dude with a flying headset who happened to be waiting here for you.

“Yes.” He sticks out a hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ll be your pilot for today. Is this your first time?”

I nod my head. “Where we going?”

“I am not supposed to tell you.” He’s already headed towards some gold-plated doors. “But I can tell you this: you’re going to love it.”

Oh, Gavril and his surprises. This one’s got me all fluttery-feeling, though.

Outside, seeing the helicopter is a bit of awhoa. There’s hearing that you’re going to be taking a helicopter ride, then there’s seeing said helicopter with a Vaknin ‘V’ emblazoned on the side. I probably should be surprised Gavril owns a helicopter and never told me before, but I’m not. After all, I didn’t know my husband was a semi-evil mob boss until recently, so this ranks relatively low on the secret bombshell scale.

“She’s a beaut.” Amman pats the helicopter, before hopping on.

Several minutes and a bit of awkward small talk later, we’re in the sky, and I’m spellbound.

Calling the city skyline beautiful seems trite. But that’s exactly what it is. Beautiful. Gorgeous. The kind of jaw-dropping that you have to see in person to truly grasp.

“I’m supposed to give you this,” Amman says, as he hands me a V-embossed envelope.

Inside, the letter from Gavril reads:

Joy,

Look out at the skyline. This is a new beginning for us.

Months ago, back on the roof of that parking garage, looking at the city, I realized I was falling in love with you.

Now I know: I’ve fallen in love with you and want a new beginning for us. I want to live up to the man you see me as.

Gavril

I press the letter to my chest, the words still swirling in my head. I direct my gaze out the window as tears trickle out of my eyes.

God, how much I want that letter to be true.

Then, my stomach jolts. We’re lowering. I’m starving, I realize.

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