I smile as I take the last step of the staircase leading to our kitchen. It's the first time since he brought me home that I walked them down with almost no pain at all. I am getting better... I am finally getting better! Five weeks of physical therapy is paying off.

"You did it..." my husband is looking at me over his shoulder. There's a big smile on his lips, showing me his pride. He's wearing a black shirt with Armani briefs.

I return his smile as I walk over to the kitchen island, "I did it." Adaline's sitting in her chair and starts chuckling as she sees me. "Mommy did it." I say to her smily face before I kiss her cheek.

"Mom-my." she starts mimicking my words.

My mouth drops open as my ears connect the sound to the image I am seeing. She said Mommy! Oh my god! She said Mommy! "Troy," I breathe out, twisting my body so I see him. "Did she just say mommy?"

There's a huge proud smile on his lips, "Yes she did. But we wanted to show you that trick after the photoshoot."

"When did she start talking?" I ask him, amazed by my question. My daughter can talk! She can say mommy! She can talk!

"This morning." he answers before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because she said Daddy first." There's a smirk on his lips that makes my heart burst like fireworks in the sky.

"Her first word was Daddy?" I ask him back. How the hell can my daughter talk already?!

He shakes his head, "No her first word was blue. She pointed at my eyes and said blue."

I frown as my brain assimilates his words. "So she... she said blue and pointed at your eyes?"

He nods as he walks over to me. "She connected her vision to logic."

"But... She shouldn't be able to do that... yet." I think out loud before I look at my daughter. She's only two months old! "No, you must've misunderstood her. She's... her brain is not able to do that yet. She's suppose to see only green and red at this stage of development."

"I am telling you, she is able to see blue - and she knows it."

"No... no she can't solve sensorimotoric problems yet. She isn't suppose to make any analogies."

"She's already smiling and laughing. She's making all kind of noises. She reacts to your voice in a way that she knows your voice. She reacts to you or me singing or talking to her. She reacts to sounds surrounding her - something she should be doing anywhere between the third and sixth month of her development."

"She's ahead..." She's connecting sounds to things. I look at Adaline again. Her bright blue eyes stare at mine. My two months old daughter has the brain of a six months old. She's four months ahead in her development... that's not possible. Maybe I misheard her. Maybe Troy misunderstood her... I shake my head. "Say it again. Say mommy. Mom-my." I say to her, but she keeps her mouth shut. I watch her blue eyes smiling before I feel my husband's arms around my body. I inhale his scent, feeling no need to run or wince. Five weeks of recovery have paid off. I can finally walk down stairs without crying. I can walk around in my own house. Most of the cuts on my skin have healed. The blood in my eyes has disappeared. I am able to talk, hear and see as I did before the kidnapping. It's a relief... a true relief. The bruises start to vanish. My rips as well as my hips are getting better, too. I feel his lips kissing my right cheek and I smile. "She won't talk now."

He shakes his head, "Our girl has a brain of her own. At least as stubborn as her mother."

"And at least as bright as her father." I say, still amazed by our daughter. I watch her lips smiling and I wonder what I did to deserve to have given birth to such a wonderful human being.

"Miley's going to be about five minutes late." he says to me as I turn around.

"Good." I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. I feel my rips responding to the movement, but I decide to ignore the pain. I can take painkillers later.

"Good?" he asks me back, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, because it gives us time for this." I say before kissing him. Feeling victorious, I kiss him passionately. He returns my kiss, giving into the moment. As our tongues start their beloved dance, I forget everything else around me as well. Quickly, I surrender myself in my feelings for my husband. As he lets go, I feel dizzy, happy and full of love.

"We should stop or else I'd have to take another shower..." his fingers fondle my cheek. His bright blue orbs have darken and I know he feels the same desire as me.

"Yes." I agree with him, tilting my head to his palm. Hot kisses are everything I am able to give him. And for now, it has to be enough.

"These are the moments I ask myself how I deserve to be with you." his eyes are full of love and dreams of our future. I place my hand on his, hearing Adaline babbling. I chuckle as she communicates with us in a language neither of us is able to understand.

"Yes and you, too." Troy looks over my shoulder, "You are the best that's ever happened to me." he looks back at me, "Both of you."

I smile, "I love you, too." I say simply as I hear the doorbell ringing. "Those weren't five minutes."

He chuckles as he leaves his daughter and me alone in the kitchen. I watch him walking into the foyer before I turn around and focus on my daughter. Her bright blue orbs look at me and she smiles. She's a wonderful human being. At seven weeks she looks much more like Troy than me. But she definitely has some of my characteristics. She is by far the most stubborn person I know.

"You guys are not even dressed yet." Miley's surprised voice reaches my ears. I look over my shoulder and see my best friend walking in.

"Good morning." I say to her with a smile on my lips.

She rolls her eyes at me, "You guys need to get dressed. Forbes Magazine will be here in less than 45 minutes!"

I sigh, "I just walked down the stairs."

"Then walk them up again!" she orders, pointing at them. "I need you to be dressed, so I can make your hair and your make up. We need to disguise as many cuts and bruises as we can."

Troy chuckles as he follows her in the kitchen. "You always hit the nail, Miley."

Miley turns around, "Don't you chuckle! You are not dressed as well." her eyes stop at the Armani briefs and black shirt that he's wearing. "Though, most women wouldn't mind seeing Mr. Troy Bolton in Armani briefs..."

"I'm taken." he defends himself, holding up his left hand. "And I get dressed fast."

She sighs, "Have an eye on your daughter while I get your wife ready. You guys are just unbelievable sometimes!"

"But I haven't eaten anything yet!" I protest as she places her hands on my shoulders, leading me back to the stairs.

"Good for you. That means you can fit into that Armani pencil skirt I have in mind for you."

I sigh as a complain before I remember the actual important thing this morning. "Adaline talked this morning."

"No!" Miley sounds just as surprised as I was.

"Yes!"

"What did she say?"

"She said blue and pointed at Troy's eyes."

"Wait, what?!" Miley asks shocked. "Are you telling me her first word was blue? Her first word is suppose to be mommy or daddy or auntie - but not blue!"

I shake my head, "No, you don't understand... She pointed at Troy and practically told him that his eyes were blue."

"Okay..."

"You still don't understand, do you?"

"No."

"Her brain starts connecting sounds to things and things to a meaning. She didn't just say blue. She told him it was blue."

"I still don't get it."

I sigh, "She's suppose to do that anywhere between ten months and a year. Not at the age of seven weeks!"

"Oh she's very bright then." Miley says smiling.

I shake my head again. "She's not just bright... if she keeps developing with that speed..."

"She might start college at the age of fifteen or so." Troy answers for me, having the same fear in his voice.

"So she could be genius, where's the problem?" Miley says, "I knew you guys were bright people and of course you had to create a genius. You'll get along with her."

I gulp, "We don't know anything yet. It could be just a coincidence."

"When did ever something happen as a coincidence in your life?"

"Don't make me worry about it more than I already do." I hiss at her.

"Fine. Let's get your dressed first."

"Mommy and aunt Miley are going crazy over this." Troy sings to our daughter.

"It's important!" Miley protests as she follows me up the stairs.

"That's what they all say about the first photoshoot." his singing voice fades as we reach the upper floor.

"I haven't heard him sing in a while now." Miley says as we walk down the hallway.

"I bet you heard enough of him when you guys wrote that love song for me."

"Oh the love song..." she smiles, "I can't believe how long ago that was!"

I smile, "Sometimes it feels like yesterday."

She returns my smile before we walk into the bedroom. "Okay, what do you want to wear?"

I shrug, "I don't know."

"Gabriella, how can you not know? How can you not care?" she seems shocked as she walks into my closet.

"I've been busy not dying in the last five weeks. I had no time thinking of dresses, skirts and pants."

She rolls her eyes before they focus on my clothes. "Okay... Let's see what I have to work with..." she starts pushing hanger by hanger to the side.

"Just pick anything. I don't mind."

"You guys will be photographed. You guys will be on the cover of Forbes Magazine. What you wear matters." she starts arguing before she pulls out a red Chanel dress. "What will Troy wear?"

"I don't know. A suit." I say as she hands me the dress.

She rolls her eyes, "What color will the suit be?"

"Grey, Black or dark blue." I say, looking at his side of our closet. I stare at his twenty suits all from luxury designers: Armani, Hermes, Hugo Boss, Dolce Gabanna, Valentino... he has a lot.

"What tie?" she asks, handing me a white blouse and a black pencil skirt.

I let my eyes wander over to his ties. Silver, black, navy, stripes... "Honestly, I don't know."

"I see you're no help at all." she places her hand on her hips.

I shrug before I allow my eyes to look at my side of the closet again. Miley picks out a few more skirts, a couple of pants and some more blouses. She picks out colors and cuts I would have never put together. "If your music will ever go down, you could be an image consultant."

"Lucky me, I have you who produces me." she says chuckling.

"True, it means you're quite safe in this business."

She smiles at me before her eyes look next to me. I turn around and see Troy behind me. His eyes look at the pile of clothes I am holding. "Woah..."

"Miley wants me to try these on." I say with a shrug.

"What are you wearing?" she asks him.

"Armani one button suit in satin wool, Hermes white oxford shirt, Armani silver tie and handcuffs from our wedding day."

Miley looks at me, "See? That's what I want to hear when I asked you this. Why can't you be so organized?"

I shrug, "It's why you love me."

She chuckles before she walks over to me. I hand her the pile of clothes, which she throws on our bed. "Okay, that means you won't wear that... or that... or this." she starts picking up the clothes, "Oh and this." with the clothes on the hanger she walks back into my closet, placing them where they belonged.

I look at my husband, whose eyes stare at the clothes. "What do you think?"

His eyes look at the options that are laying in front of him, "The silver colored Armani dress. With the silver Francesco Russo shoes. The mirrored ones."

"Decision made." I say to Miley as she picks out the matching shoes. The elegant Francesco Russo shoes have scalloped straps that are precision-cut to resemble leaves. They look absolutely stunning.

Her mouth drops open. "But you haven't even tried the others!"

"If he thinks it'll look good, it will look good." I say into her eyes before picking up the dress.

"And then why am I here?" she snaps at me.

"To cover the torment." I say back, truthfully. "To give me the strength to get through this."

She inhales deeply, "I'll do my best."

I feel Troy's hand on my shoulder and I look up, "I'm okay."

He doesn't believe me. "Okay."

Miley hands me the shoes, sensing the worried atmosphere between us out of the sudden. "I'll check on Adaline."

"Yes..." I trail off, hearing her leave the bedroom as my eyes are still glued to my husband's. His lips have parted and for a moment I don't know if it's because he wants to say something he can't or shouldn't. Suddenly, I feel his lips crashing against mine so hard that I fall on the bed, dragging him with me as I wrap my arms around his neck. His lips start kissing me with a kind of passion I haven't felt in a while, making me forget everything around me. I ignore the pulsing pain from my hip, the dragging pain from my bruised rips and the prick by one of the hangers in my back. I return his kiss, allowing our tongues to continue their dance from this morning. Eagerly, I get drunk in his taste and smell. Biting into my lower lip, he let's go and I feel dizzy, yet hungry for more.

"We should stop..." he whispers to me.

I nod, "Yes, we should..." yet I can't let my eyes off of his lips. My fingers brush through his hair before I kiss him again. He growls as I let go.

"You make it very hard for me to stay sane." his bright blue eyes stare into mine.

I let my hands wander down his back, feeling his muscles vibrating from my touch. "I want more." I whisper, voicing my desire for him.

He closes his eyes for a moment. It's hard for both of us... As he opens them again, I can see his burning desire in the dark blue marble that has built in the bright blue of his iris. Sweet Jesus... "I want more, too." he says simply and I realize what I've done to him. His orbs make me feel a kind of desire I have never felt for him. I want to rip the clothes he's wearing off of him. I want his lips on my skin, his hands on my body... I close my eyes. I can't. I can't have sex when there's still pain in my body.

"I need a shower." he says to me before rising from the bed.

I sigh as I brush through my hair, "Soon." I promise as I watch him walking into the bathroom.

He turns around halfway, showing me the size of his erection underneath the black Armani pajama pants. "I won't fuck you when you're in pain."

"I know." I say back, rising from the bed as well.

His eyes dance down my body and although I am only wearing one of his grey shirts I feel like the hottest woman on earth right now. "Oh boy, how I wish it were soon already."

I roll my eyes at him, "I'll let you know."

His eyes stop at mine, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." he closes the bathroom door and I inhale sharply. This man is driving me insane and I love every second of it.

I hear a knock on the door as I look over my shoulder.

Miley walks in, "Are you guys done with ripping each other's heads off?"

I frown at her, "Why would you think that?"

"Well wasn't there this atmosphere between you guys..." she trails off.

"No..."

"Oh, so that means..."

I nod, "Yes."

"And he always looks like this when he's...?" she asks me. She seems surprised.

I grin at her, "My husband is full of surprises."

"I see... And you guys didn't have any sex yet?"

I bite my lip, "I can't." I answer with a simple shrug as she sits down next to me.

"Oh sweetie..."

"He wants to. He really does... I mean..." I brush through my hair, "this was the closest we can get before any of us crosses a line. And every time we kiss or touch, we're so fucking close to crossing that line."

"It sucks."

"It does. I mean it's not like I don't want to. I do... I really, really do. But I am still recovering. I am still in pain. And as long as I am not pain free he has to take one too many cold showers like he is doing right now."

She brushes through my hair, "You don't deserve the shit you've been through. A woman like you deserves a happy ending."

"Well, I do have a happy ending. Only he's showering under icy cold water without me right now."

She chuckles before offering me her hands. "Come, you need to get ready as well. Otherwise you guys will be on the cover of Forbes Magazine in a shirt and Armani briefs. Not good."

"Troy, wait." I say, grabbing his hand as we walk down the hallway on the first floor. Walking in the Franceso Russo heels is a task my body is not quite ready for.

He stops, his blue orbs getting clouded with worry. "Do you want me to cancel this?"

I tilt my head to the side, knowing he'd do exactly that if I asked him to. "I can't walk down the stairs in these shoes." I say back instead.

His eyes move down the silver tight fitting Armani dress before they stop at the metallic silver Francesco Russo heels. "If that's your only issue..." he mumbles before my feet loose the steady ground out of the sudden.

I let out a surprised cry as I feel safe in his arms. Unlike my expectation, I am not in pain at all. "What are you doing?"

"Taking care of my wife." he says before he continues walking with me in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Absolutely pain free." I lean my head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. I inhale deeply, smelling his shower gel. "I have the best husband in the world." I whisper, brushing through his hair.

"Careful or else we're going to do the photoshoot in a cold shower." he hisses with a smirk on his lips.

I bite my lip before I kiss him. Suddenly, I feel him walking down the stairs and I let go of. With his strong arms around my body, I feel safe and surprisingly not in pain.

"There you are!" I hear Miley calling us and I look over to her. She's standing behind the kitchen island, her hands placed on her hips. She looks a little mad and I know it's because we're late. Behind her I can see the staff from Forbes Magazine: there's a photographer, an assistant and a man in a suit. I think he's the supervisor or something. All twelve eyes are on us as Troy walks down the stairs with me in his arms. I blush, feeling embarrassed. Usually, these moments are between Troy and me only. Suddenly, Miley gets out her iPhone and takes a picture of us.

"Why did you take a picture of us?" I ask her as soon as Troy lets me down. "Thank you." I whisper to him.

His fingers fondle my cheek and I hear Miley's phone camera clicking again. "Any time."

I turn around, "Seriously, is there a reason for this?!" I snap at her.

My blonde best friend smiles, "Behind the scenes photos. They're going to be a hit on instagram!"

I roll my eyes, "Tag Unfaithful records then. It's the least you could do."

Her blue eyes are already glued to the skin, "Of course..."

I take my husband's hand and we walk over to the Forbes staff. "Good morning." I greet them. It's still early, somewhere between nine and ten.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Bolton." The man in the suit says to us, "I'm Jeffrey Jackson, the editor of your issue."

I nod, "You're the one we sent the interview to via mail. It's nice to meet you." I say, shaking hands with him.

"That's Derek and his assistant Charlie." he introduces the other two men to us.

Troy nods to them, showing no smile. He has already switched from loving husband to professional CEO.

"Well, I might need to help a little today." I say to Derek and Charlie, "I have never done a photoshoot. And standing next to my husband, I'm going to feel more than intimidating." I answer faithfully.

My husband squeezes my hand and I look at him, "I'm your support. Not competition."

I sigh, "You just know how to move in front of a lens. You've done that more than I could count. You have the most powerful aura I've ever seen."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Mrs. Bolton." he says to me, "After all you are the only one who was able to tame me." he whispers into my ear.

"Well we will put on some music to help you relax." Charlie offers, "And Derek will tell you what to do. He'll give you guidelines. He really knows how to take good pictures. Not that any of these won't be any less than good..." he blushes.

I chuckle, "I'm glad we're doing this with such sympathetic people then."

"Bend your left knee a little, Mrs. Bolton." I shift my weight and feel my muscles reacting with a bit pain. Heels are uncomfortable. The Francesco Russo heels are breathtaking, but my body is not enjoying the shift in my weight.

"Right hand on her hip, Mr. Bolton." the photographer says to Troy and I feel his hand gliding up my legs. My body reacts to his touch as I feel my breath quickening. I had no idea a photoshoot with my husband would be so much fun.

"Lean against your husband, please."

"I swear when I've recovered fully..." I hiss out between my teeth as I lean against his torso. I fell his strong abs against my back. I tilt my head to the side, seeing a dirty grin on his lips. Thanks to Miley's make-up magic none of the hematoma are visible. Not even in the bright lights that shine down on us.

"Oh I know..." he whispers.

"Stay this way!" I hear the camera clicking. I don't want a picture of husband and me giving each other dirty grins on the cover of Forbes. Yet I gulp as his fingertips lift my chin a little. His bright blue orbs are mesmerizing and I forget that we're in the middle of a photoshoot that's happening right in our living room.

"Perfect!" I hear the word's from the photographer not louder than a whisper.

"I thought you'd go for Louboutins." I say as I look down my shoes.

His fingers brush through my hair, "Louboutins are for me only."

I bite my lip, "Yes." I agree with him.

"And once you wear them..."

My breathe quickens, "I can't wait."

"Beautiful!"

I burst out of laughter suddenly, unable to hold the pose. My husband laughs along, unable to stay serious as well. "I'm sorry." I say after the laughter attack and wipe the tears away from my eyes. Troy smiles at me. As his thumbs wipe away another tear of mine, I hear the camera clicking again.

"These will be perfect pictures!"

My head swings over to Derek, the photographer for Forbes Magazine. I am so glad we did the interview already two weeks ago. Via mail. I thought I had to do it in person, but Troy asked them to send their questions via mail so we could answer them. It was the best option given my condition. Two weeks ago I looked and felt a lot worse. But I wanted to do it. I have to stay present in the media in order for my company to survive in the business.

I open the bow of the Francesco Russo shoes before I slip out of them. As beautiful as they are, my hips are pulsing in pain.

"Here." Troy says, handing me two pain killers and a glass of water. He knows me inside out.

Two hours later and I am exhausted. I gulp the pills down, "I had no idea photoshoots take this long."

"Well we did take a lot of photos today." he says and I watch his lips form a big smile. I turn around and watch Miley walking in, carrying our daughter. She has wrapped Adaline around her upper body. "She's asleep." Miley whispers as she reaches us.

"For how long?"

"Basically the whole two hours you guys were flirting with each other in front of a lens."

I roll my eyes at her, "We weren't flirting."

"You sure? Cause I've watched you guys from the dining room. And you guys looks... man, you looked like you were ready to tear each other's clothes off."

"You spied on us?" Troy asks her.

"Just a little bit... I didn't hear what you guys were whispering to each other, though." her bright blue eyes look at my husband, "You are such a pro with the camera."

"I've had a lot of photoshoots in the last years." he answers casually, "It teaches you one thing or another."

I roll my eyes at him, "There's nothing you can't do."

He looks at me and I gulp as I see the guilt in his eyes, "I didn't prevent it."

I inhale sharply as words fail me.

"Okay, we're going upstairs so you guys can have some time alone..." Miley says to us before almost running away from us.

I stare into my husband's eyes, allowing him to make me feel his emotions. I feel his guilt, his sorrow, his pain, his anger, his disappointment, his gratitude, his love... I feel everything - and it overwhelms me like it always did in the last weeks. "It's not fair." I say back to him as my fingers start opening his silver Armani tie.

"It's the truth." he says back as I free his neck from the tie.

I watch how the silk tie glides through my hands, "Krimov is going to be here shortly. I don't want to do this right now. I can't deal with your pain, my pain, Miley's uncomfortably, Adaline's fatigue... Let's stick to one thing please. Make one step at a time. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't his fault. It happened. It's over. I am alive and still head over heels in love with you. No matter how much you blame yourself for the pain they caused me."

His fingertips lift up my chin, "Don't make me want to love you more than I already do."

I bite my lip, "Sometimes I'm afraid that my heart will burst out of love, too." I promise him back.

"This is hard..."

I close my eyes as I feel his forehead against mine, "I know. It's hard for me, too."

He kisses me softly, "What do you want to discuss with Krimov?"

I brush through his hair, "How much money do you need to built a firm?"

He frowns at me, "A firm? It depends. What kind of firm?""Security firm." I precise my questions with a smile on my lips.

"Are you saying what I think you are?" he asks me surprised.

I nod, "Get your check book. We're going to fulfil a wish now." I say as I hear the door bell ringing.

There's a smile on his lips before he disappears in his study. I wince as I start walking barefoot through the living room. The two pills weren't enough for the pain. My hip still hurts as I walk through the foyer. There's a new bouquet of white peonies on the round table and the smell starts filling my nostrils. I love peonies.

With a smile on my lips, I open the door. "Wladimir, come in."

The former FBI-Profiler walks in, his grey eyes look surprised as they see me dressed in such an outfit. "Were you at work today?"

"Photoshoot for Forbes Magazine." I explain my outfit with a shrug.

"You look good."

Compared to how I looked like the last time he saw me, I really do look good.

Flashback

I take another sip of the herbal tea before pulling the cashmere blanket tighter around my body. It's high summer, yet I feel icy cold. My body's still dealing with the torments and it's after effects. I've been home for two weeks now, yet I feel not as good as I should. Dr. Gardener prohibited a tough recovery process, but I had no idea it'd be this hard. Getting up, going into the bathroom, walking down the stairs... moving in any way is still so painful. I know it's because of the bruised bones in my body. The bruised bones are the worst. Worse than any hematoma, any cut... My eyes are still a bit blood shot, the countless cuts on my body are still healing, which is slow due to my iron deficiency. I'm still on pain killers and pills for my liver. Every now and then I get an IV, too. It's a nightmare. Recovering is a nightmare. But I survived. I am alive...

The sun in shining bright through the glass facade, blending my vision. I am sitting in the living room as a change of scenery. It took me the whole morning to find the strength to walk downstairs, though. But my mind is stronger than my body is. Troy doesn't call me stubborn for no reason. My husband is constantly running around, switching from businessman to father to loving partner. I watch him doing what I can't, taking care of our daughter in ways I wish I was able to. The worries in my head don't help with my recovery process, but I just hope he won't have a breakdown. He's in constant stress and I have no idea when he finds the time to relax properly. I love him, but right now I am the biggest burden in his life.

"Mrs. Bolton," I hear a voice saying my name.

I turn my head around and watch my Russian bodyguard stopping in his movement as he sees me. His bright grey eyes are filled with guilt and sorrow. Troy is standing behind him and I am once more in awe of his dominance filling the room. Wearing light beige colored linen trousers and a white button down shirt, he looks breathtaking as always. He's my protection shield. He's the hand I can hold on to. Yet he knows exactly when I need a little time alone.

Krimov's lips form a thin line as he finds the strength to walk over to me and I know he has never seen anyone as demolished as me.

"Krimov..." I breathe out as he sits down next me. My fingers wrap around the cup as I feel unease. He's too close.

He must've read my body language because I feel calmer when he moves further apart. I'm fucked up. Completely fucked up...

"I came to apologize." he says in a strict voice and I know he's holding his emotion in control. It's the same way Troy speaks to me when he's at the edge of crying. He switches into business mode, protecting both himself and me.

I shake my head, "You did nothing wrong. You don't have to apologize for what happened."

"I was your bodyguard. I was with you to protect you. I was-" he stops as I place my hand on his. There is clotted blood on some cuts on my hands, other cuts are still open. My nails have been cut short. A few nails have ripped. My hands are just one sign of my fucked-up-ness.

"It's okay. I forgive you." I whisper into his eyes and watch them getting glassy. I close my eyes, fighting the tears in my eyes, too.

End of Flashback

"The makeup is covering all of it. That and two painkillers." I answer as we walk into the living room.

"Oh... well, it worked." he sounds worried.

"Why are you so worried?" I ask him as he sits down on the big grey couch.

His eyes dance down my body, "I think you're going to fire me, but your body language says something else."

"You should listen to what you've learned and not what tricks your mind is playing with you." I say back, sitting down next to him. I watch Troy appearing with a piece of paper in his hands and I smile.

"You sure my mind is not playing tricks on me? I enjoy working for you. You are important to me." Wladimir asks me, "I will never forget how mad he was at me when I told him I lost you."

My eyes look away from my husband and I stare into glassy worried orbs. Oh for christ sake, is he full of guilt as well? I place my hand on his, "I am okay. I survived. I am home. Everything's fine. No one is going to get fired today."

"Really?"

"Yes." Troy says as he reaches out. He hands him the check.

I watch Wladimir's grey eyes widen, "35 million pounds?" he asks in shock.

I look at Troy. 35 million pounds? You need that much to open a security agency? I didn't even had that much money when I started Unfaithful records. It seems to be a lot...

"Is that my pay-off?" Wladimir asks, his eyes unable to move from the check.

"No. We still want you to work for us." Troy answers and I watch the two men sharing a look. I see gratitude and respect...

"What we want is you to fulfill your dream." I say to Wladimir.

His eyes widen as they look into mine, "This is... You're giving me this for..." he fails at his words.

"Yes. I want you to open your own security agency. Preferably close to us. This should cover all your costs and keep you over water for the first few months in case things don't go as well. Which I don't think will happen, since a lot of wealthy people want proper safety. Safety, which you - no matter what happened - gave us and hopefully continue giving us."

"Wow... I didn't... I don't know what to say." he says, looking at Troy again, "Thank you."

"It was her idea." he says, his eyes looking at me genuinely.

Wladimir looks back at me, "Thank you."

"You deserve it." I say with a smile on my lips.

"We have some conditions though." Troy starts and my head swings around. Conditions? I don't have any conditions. "First, I want you to continue working for us. Not on a regular basis since the danger we used to be in, clearly is no longer there. Second, I want your firm to be close to us - I think London has a few properties that will suit your taste. Our real estate agent will contact you. Third, I want you to take a few MI6 and Scotland Yard people into your team. Some of my connections seem to be... unhappy with their current situation. They need a change of scene. They need exactly what you will offer. I think it should be about six or seven. I'll mail you their data and you can make your own choice."

Wladimir nods, "That seems fair."

"You don't have to do it, if you don't want to." I say, giving Troy a look. How dare he tell him who to hire!

Wladimir looks back at me, "I think it's a good idea. I have a few friends who are former FBI, CIA and NSA. They would want to work for me. It'll work out... I just never got around in planning this whole thing. Finding a space... a firm name... I was too busy with..."

"With us." I say with a smile on my lips.

"I enjoyed every second taking care of you." he says to Troy, "You have an extraordinary wife, daughter and family. I'm glad I got to be part of that for a while."

"Just wait until Adaline is able to go to school or heaven forbid have dates. You'll be the third pair of eyes for us then."

Wladimir chuckles, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

A new chapter! I hope you enjoyed reading this one! :) So far, I still have a lot of plans for this story - get excited for the content that's about to come!

Please review!

Xoxo