When we get to the stage, the lights are blinding. I keep smiling. Public glory isn’t a type of honor that I relish, but the award is great for the newspaper and as long as it helps to secure more donations, which will earn us more funds to investigate new stories, I’ll attend these types of events.
“Wow,” Ellie says, taking the award from the announcer as her mouth lingers near the microphone. “Wow. I can’t believe this. This article was a lot of hard work, but it’s a testament to how important investigative journalism is. In an age where people want news instantly and they only want the bullet points, we are so grateful that people took the time to read this series and we’re even more pleased that it led to such vital, impressive change within the city. That’s why we’re all at the Fifth Avenue Journal. At least it is now.
“This article never would’ve been written without the leadership of Cassandra Akimov and her editor-in-chief, Arthur Lawson. When she purchased the Fifth Avenue Journal and fired Tom Harden, it gave new life to the newspaper. It brought us back to our roots and reminded us why we’re all in this job in the first place: to tell the truth. So, thank you, Cassandra and Arthur. Thank you to our sources. Thank you to our supportive families. Most of all, thank you to our readers and our donors, who are the ones who ensure that the truth is constantly brought to the light. Thank you so, so much.”
The crowd bursts into applause as Ellie mouths another thank you to Arthur and me. I give her a hug, thankful for her eloquence in her speech.
Music starts to play. We walk back down to our table. Maksim pulls my chair out for me. It’s one of those things I never expected to like—that old-fashioned chivalry—but the best part is that he does it whether people are watching or not.
I fold my hand over his. He smiles at me. Even a year after everything that happened in the cemetery, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Are you surprised?” I ask, referring to the award. He leans forward, kissing over the pulse in my neck.
“Constantly,” he says into my skin. I shiver and lean against him, knowing I’ve won far more than I’ve lost.
Alena’s Rome looks nearly the same from when Maksim had me dragged here over a year ago. The painting of Cascata del Toce is still here. The white and red tablecloths are still here. They still have the chandelier lights and the hostess podium remains the same.
But instead of a white T-shirt and pajama bottoms, I’m wearing a blazer-style dress that cuts off at the middle of my thighs. I’d usually combine it with some type of bottom half, but I know Maksim has reserved all of the tables again, so I don’t have to worry about looking professional enough to own one of the most prestigious journals in the world. I don’t have to worry about anything.
When the waitress brings over the zeppoles, I almost laugh.
“You didn’t let me finish the zeppoles last time,” I say. “You ambushed me with a kiss.”
“And you bit me,” he says. “That was significantly more of a surprise.”
He picks up one of the zeppoles and holds it out for me. It’s the same move he made when he surprised me with the kiss. As much as I wanted to hate that kiss, I can still remember it now. We didn’t even love each other yet—hell, we didn’t even like each other—but the passion he put into that kiss could have killed me. And I still would have loved it.
I lean forward, opening my mouth. The zeppola slides past my teeth, touching the tip of my tongue before I take a bite. I lean back, letting the flavor settle in my mouth. It’s just as good as the first time, the powdered sugar lighting up my brain and the dough ball so fresh and delicate that I could eat a hundred of them without feeling any heavier.
“For my big award winner,” he says with a grin.
“My team won the award, not just me,” I say. “It also helped that we had all of those donations from the article about my father.”
“Yes,” he says. “Do you have any regrets about that? I know the truth means a lot to you.”
“If it came down to whether I’d choose you and Lily or the truth, I’d choose you two every time. If I had to live my life as an undercover agent, lying about who I am every second of the day to keep you two safe, I’d do it. I love you. That’s the truth that matters.”
He kisses me, his sugar-covered fingertips caressing the side of my cheek.
Being with Maksim is always a thrill. There’s no such thing as getting into the mood because every time he kisses me, my body is ready to intertwine with his.
His chair scrapes across the floor as he moves closer to me. His hands move under my dress. As I lean forward, my hands in his hair as I kiss him, his hands slide over my underwear. He grasps the satin material, his fingertips nearly pinching my skin as he yanks them down. I undo the two buttons holding the dress together. When he looks at me, naked except for my bra, it’s an aphrodisiac. It amazes me that after all this time, he can still be stunned and enamored
