The clock on the bedside table illuminated the room in green, the numbers stared at me. Two thirty six am. Two thirty seven. Two thirty eight. I watched my wife sleep. Our time together was running out, one green digit at a time. I watched her slowly breathe in and out. She trusted me. Somehow, after everything, she trusted me. God, I loved her.

Breathe in, breathe out. I turned my head to look at the ceiling. This time tomorrow I would be looking at a hostel ceiling in Russia. Hostels were safer, four or six people in every room. Everything was lined up; meetings, banking numbers, hostels, transportation. Twenty hour work days for almost two weeks, travel spanning three continents and twelve countries. Almost two hundred million dollars to be made.

But the money didn't matter any more. I was so close to having a family. Everything I ever wanted was laying beside me. But to have it all, I had to risk it all. So there wasn't a real choice for me.

Petra

Soon the limousines arrived and the guests headed back to their rooms or to a party at a nearby club. I directed the cleaning crews, made sure everything was organized. At some point Milos disappeared into the crowd, possibly dealing with a work call. He moved like a cat, quiet and stealthy.

I said good night to the ballroom manager who would oversee the cleaning until everything was pristine, until it was like Eloise's wedding had never even happened. Then I made my way upstairs. My back and feet were aching, my stomach felt like it was trying to detach from my body. Relief swept through me as I unlocked the door to our suite. I was finally home and the shower was close. Milos was not back yet, but I was too tired to be concerned with where he was.

Making my way to the bathroom I stripped off my dress and underpinnings, leaving them in a trail on the floor. I never treated clothes so roughly, but I was never going to wear any of it again. Not the ugly dress or the maternity lingerie set. I could afford to replace clothing I hated now. I stepped into the blissfully hot shower then closed my eyes and put my face under the torrent of water, breathing out. It felt heavenly.

A small puff of cold air on my back was my only warning that Milos had joined me before his long arms wrapped around me.

"I missed you." He murmured against my neck.

"You just saw me thirty minutes ago." I reminded him.

His hands rubbed gently over my stomach, then retreated to lather up a washcloth for me. We carefully traded places, laughing as my belly nudged him as I passed. I looked at him and my laughter stopped. There were moments when Milos was breathtaking, and this was one of them.

It was almost easy to forget how incredibly handsome he was, especially with those big, goofy smiles he was so fond of. He looked like a model as he stood under the warm spray, rivulets running down his square jaw, his broad shoulders, his toned torso and perfectly flat stomach. The muscles in his arms flexed as he lightly scratched his scalp. He turned his head and smiled as he caught my gaze. Not his usual grin, but a slow, sultry smirk.

Two weeks into dating Milos-the first time, in Prague- Mother and I had a kitchen sink suddenly stop draining. We called the super who never bothered to fix it. We couldn't afford a handyman. We didn't have the tools to fix it, and thanks to my mother's charming personality our neighbors weren't inclined to help us.

Milos came over one day in one of his fine suits, though I was wearing one of my four threadbare, painfully old skirts. I mentioned our broken sink over the lunch I was careful to save half of, and he offered to fix it.

Mother sneered at my leftovers and Milos' offer, but took both and left for a walk with some derogatory remark.

"Sorry about her." I apologized.

He smiled reassuringly at me in that way he had, like I was his moon and stars. "Don't worry, I'll win her over. Anything for my girl."

I cleaned out the cupboard below the sink as he took off his suit coat, tie, and button down shirt. He was wearing a solid back undershirt that honestly just looked like a t shirt to me. To this day I'm not sure how or when he got a wrench, but he started working on the piping below the sink.

I told him a funny story about my early busking days, how I once fainted and everyone was so concerned they forgot to tip. Mother had been furious, demanding I never faint again. I laughed, but he didn't.

"She should have taken better care of you." He said gruffly, turning the wrench. "You should never have been made to work all day in the sun, and without food? I-"

His words were cut off as the pipe dislodged and water came pouring down on him. Quickly he pulled off his shirt, holding it to the stream of water and staving it off. I rushed to grab the wastebasket from the bathroom, then brought it back to him. He positioned it under the pipe and removed his shirt, letting the water pour in as he climbed out from under the sink.

"You're wet." I said softly, running my fingers along his jawline. It was the first time I saw him shirtless.

He was exceptionally lean then, with the lithe and wiry frame of a brawler, of someone who was fast on their feet. He was distracting in his partial nudity. He was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

"I smell." He said, wrinkling his nose.

"The sink has been clogged for at least a week." I answered apologetically. "You can use our shower, if you'd like?"

One of his hands caught mine. His eyes twinkled. A sultry smirk played across his face.

"Only if you come with me. Petra. Petra." His voice intruded on my memories. "Petra? You're staring."

I blinked until the memory was gone and Milos was back focus. I'm not sure what came over me, if it was how he looked or the memories or my raging hormones. I took a step closer to him, grabbed his hips, and dropped to my knees in front of him. He looked confused for a moment as I pinned him against the shower wall, then understanding took hold as I took the length of him into my mouth, sucking hard and fast.

Garbled noises escaped his throat as I brought him deeper into mine, flicking my tongue against the underside of his shaft. One hand held my hair while the other desperately sought purchase against the shower door. He was moaning, his knees were shaking, and still I sucked him with all the passion in me.

Oral sex had been a power move for me, a way to get something I wanted. I used it like a bargaining chip for extending my marriage, getting money from Lachlan, for a thousand other things. I'd never needed to bargain with Milos, though. Maybe that's why I was enjoying this so much. He offered things before I realized I needed them. Fruit in winter, fixing my sink. His constant love.

And he did love me. Loved me with a ferociousness, a passion that wasn't tempered by time or distance. The first person who ever loved me for who I was, not what I could do for them. The only thing he had ever wanted in return was for me to love him back. And that was hardly a request, how could I not love him?

Within five minutes his entire body was trembling, and then he was shouting my name, coming into my throat and I was swallowing it like the wonton woman he turned me into. With him I wasn't a man-eater or conniving or manipulative. With him, I was just me. And he loved me for it.

"Thank you." Milos murmured as he turned off the water and helped me back to my feet.

He brushed his lips to mine as he wrapped a towel around me. I rubbed my shoulder against him while we brushed our teeth. Finally we retreated to the bedroom together. I pulled on a silk nightgown while he preferred to sleep in the nude, and we climbed into bed together like it was routine, like we were really married.

Like this wasn't for taxes. Like we were in love. Like he wasn't a criminal, like I wasn't pregnant with another man's children. Like some part of our lives was normal.

This all started because I had wanted something normal in my life.

"I can't believe you have to leave tomorrow." I whispered into the night.

I felt him nod. "I was surprised with how quickly the meetings were set."

Something in his voice sounded reticent, like he was holding something back bit didn't want me to know what.

"Milos?" I asked quietly. The dark was like a blanket we were both wrapped in, comforting and warm. I felt oddly safe, like nothing could hurt us.

"Yes, my angel?" He murmured back, running a hand through my hair distractedly.

It was obvious when I didn't have his full attention. Back in Prague, he had frequently gotten like this before particularly unpleasant business trips. I hoped this one would not be as difficult as he seemed to be expecting.

"I need to ask you for something." It came out softly, almost pleadingly.

"Anything." He answered immediately, pulling me tighter against him.

"Please come back before the babies are born. I'd like you to be there." I asked quietly.

That garnered his full attention. A long stretch of silence passed between us. I could see it on his face, he was thinking, problem solving. It irritated me, I wasn't a problem to be solved.

"Milos, I've never asked you for anything. Come home before the babies arrive. I want you to be there when they're born. You want us to be a family, and I'm considering it. This is important to me. I don't want you to miss the first moments of their lives, not if we're going to be a family." I paused. He was quiet. "And it's not just about the babies. I want you to be there for me. I don't want to have to go through this alone. I've never been alone."

The silence stretched on. Finally he answered. "I will do everything in my power to be back before our girls are born. That I can promise."

He sounded stiff and formal, maybe even solemn. I pulled back from him. "But you won't promise to be there."

Slowly he shook his head. "I can't."

My throat felt tight. I wasn't going to beg him to be there if he didn't want to. I would just have to do it alone. My heart squeezed painfully. The cocoon of darkness that had seemed so safe before felt stifling, like it was slowly suffocating me. Why was he picking the industry he was supposed to be selling over me? It didn't make sense. Milos always made sense, even at his draconian worst. I took a deep breath in and out.

"Milos, tell me what's going on. Why can't you be back within a month? What's going on?"

It was his turn to breathe in and out. "Do you trust me?" He asked calmly.

"Of course." I said in a huff. "Why?"

"No. I need you to think about it. Would you come to me for help? Do you trust me with you? Will you trust me with the babies? There isn't a wrong answer here, Petra. It's okay if you don't trust me."

I paused, thinking. Did I trust him? It had been a year since he came back into my life. He put me under surveillance. He blackmailed me into marriage. He understood me. He loved me unconditionally. I offered myself to him for an extra two months and was considering keeping him around forever. Not that he would ever really leave. I was, after all, the only thing he ever wanted.

"I do." I finally said. "I trust you."

Gently he pulled me back into his arms, stroking my hair, rubbing my back.

"Thank you. I need you to trust me. I need you to know that I will do everything in my power to return as quickly as is safe. I would do anything not to miss the birth of the girls, anything. But I got myself into this business and I will get myself out. I will protect you and our family. That comes at a price. So no matter how much I love you Petra, I can't promise. I just need you to trust me. Let me protect you."

I nodded against his chest. He let out a deep breath, murmured his thanks into my hair. It was a long time before I fell asleep, but when I finally did it was with the gentle rise and fall of Milos' chest next to me and the sound of his heartbeat in my ear.

And a sudden worry nagging at my heart. What was the price? He was protecting me, but who would protect him?