37. Galena
GALENA
W hen I was growing up, there were days when my mother would have me in the kitchen and we’d make all sorts of things.
She was a decent cook, but I would never have said in a million years that she was a fantastic one.
The one thing about her was that she put love into everything she did, from her banana cake to her borscht, which Leland hated.
It didn’t matter to me what she made because whenever she cooked, she hummed little Russian songs to herself, and that always made it special.
Here, it was constantly filled with delicious smells.
Evgenia wasn’t here every day, but it seemed like she was coming more and more often.
I loved it because, if there was one thing about her cooking, it was that she did it with love.
Ilias said that her schedule was flexible, depending on when he was in town, and she typically left him prepared meals.
Lately, she had shown up to cook and even spent time teaching me how to make some of the traditional Greek dishes that she’d been serving.
She’d tried to teach both the Anthakos girls, and neither had much of an inclination, but I loved to cook, so I’d been soaking it up.
Sloane had been coming by to work with me once a week on my self-defense, and I’d been progressing enough that I felt confident in the skills I was learning.
Everything she was teaching made me feel like, if I were in the situation I had experienced before, I’d have a chance to fight back long enough to run.
It also gave me space to work on something that was just mine, so I enjoyed my Sloane time.
Ilias had encouraged me to check in with the therapist, and I did have a few sessions, but I honestly didn’t think I’d continue.
I felt content now that things were tidied up.
I was happy in my new life, and I felt more settled than I had in a long time.
Ilias and I had scattered Leland and my mother’s ashes at a park that they used to take me to.
It was probably illegal, but when did that stop Ilias from doing anything?
I padded down the hallway in jeans and an oversized blue sweater that matched my eyes, which had been hung in my closet. Ilias had left early for a meeting with Kostas and Vaso, kissing the curve of my shoulder and reminding me that the girls were stopping by today.
Evgenia was singing in the kitchen, something in Greek, beautiful and slightly off-key, while the kettle hissed and something baked in the oven.
She liked to surprise us, so I didn’t bother asking her what it was.
Last time, it had been some baklava and threats to “stop looking so skinny.” From the ingredients she had out, I would guess that it was these shortbread cookies she’d made before.
Ilias was working hard with his brothers to get things ready so he could leave the company in their capable hands.
Kostas and Vaso said they could handle it, but there was groundwork that had to be laid in advance.
They’d been working on it for weeks. Ilias typically had done a lot of the scheduling and routing on his own, but he needed to train them on how it worked.
I could tell that there was some worry surrounding turning things over to them, but he wasn’t going to change his mind about it.
“Are you ready?” Theo called from the living room. “Because Frankie says we can’t go until you come down and confirm that you don’t own a single push-up bra. We have to buy one for you today.”
“I never said that!” Frankie protested.
“You implied it. And I, as your pregnant elder, have the right to embellish.”
I stepped into the room to find Theo lounging across the couch like it was a throne, one hand dramatically resting on her belly, the other dangling a pair of sunglasses like she’d just stepped out of a 1960s movie.
She’d obviously made the funky yellow dress she was wearing.
It was empire-waisted and had billowy chiffon sleeves in white voile.
The best part of it was the square neck that pushed up her boobs in the best way.
She was curvy in a way I would never be.
Frankie wore something classic, obviously designed by Theo—a pair of adorable overalls that accentuated her belly.
The two of them were such a pair, always finishing each other’s sentences.
I’d almost be jealous of their close friendship if they weren’t so willing to include me.
All of them were so nice. Cora included, although I understood why Vasily kept her busy so she wasn’t always around as much as Frankie and Theo.
Katie was coming to visit soon, and I couldn’t wait to introduce her to the three of them. I was sure they’d get along great.
Theo looked me up and down, squinting as she stood. “You ready? That sweater is perfect for your eyes. Where’d you get it? Is that cashmere?” She reached out to touch it.
“Pretty sure you picked it out,” I said, shrugging, loving that she’d already forgotten. “I wouldn’t know where you bought it.” I laughed at her.
“She’s either making clothes or buying clothes.” Frankie rolled her eyes with a smile. “You haven’t even seen her studio yet. Our girl is next-level brilliant when it comes to fashion.”
I wouldn’t disagree with her. I loved everything Theo picked out or made for me, and I couldn’t wait to see her studio, Mythos Designs . I’d never known a clothing designer before, but I loved the focus she had for her craft.
“I can’t wait to see it.” Getting my coat, I paused to say goodbye to Evgenia before pounding back upstairs to the main floor, where the girls were putting on their jackets and collecting purses. We were on our way to lunch.
You’d think, as we exited the building, that the three of us were some sort of dignitaries with the amount of security that we had.
It was somewhat ridiculous, but thinking back to the incident with Dino, I reminded myself that we could never be careless, especially with Frankie and Theo being pregnant.
Ilias had been worried about how I’d handled everything, but when I told him I was good, I meant it.
I didn’t care what happened after we’d left the warehouse, and I didn’t want to know.
As far as I knew, he was dead. I felt safe and at peace for the first time since the attack.
Happy, loved, and surrounded by friends.
We ended the day at a small café, tucked between a used bookstore and a florist, just a block away from where we had gotten our sandwiches.
The chairs were rickety, and I wasn’t sure if it was because the floor was uneven or if it was due to the old, mismatched chairs.
Either way, their gelato was to die for.
We sat inside, the late-afternoon light casting long golden shadows across the table, all of us giggling at the stories that Frankie was telling.
Theo sipped her decaf and made a face, and then studied me. “So tell us all about these travel plans you two have. Where are you going first?”
“We’re still making our lists,” I admitted.
“I’ve been having a tough time deciding.
There are so many beautiful places to visit, and I’d like to see some places here in the States.
” My upbringing had been limited to just New York.
I’d never really traveled outside of my own little area before.
Ilias had been eager to take me to Europe right away, but I had hesitated.
I wanted to meet my cousins in Arizona and California, and there was so much of the world to explore. I just didn’t know where to start.
Frankie licked her spoon and nodded. “You don’t have to rush, you know. You have plenty of time.”
“Ilias is a bit of a snob.” Theo snorted. “You’ll be good for him. He’s always wanted to go straight for the bougie vacations abroad.”
“Pot meet kettle.” Frankie ducked Theo’s napkin as she threw it at her. “Hey, I’m just saying you like your fancy vacations too.”
I winked to settle the fake outrage, but it wasn’t needed.
Their teasing was always good-natured. “I’m not saying I’m opposed to bougie.
” It had been a super nice change from having hardly two cents to rub together, but I hadn’t been out in the world very often where I’d spent actual money yet.
This was my first excursion without Ilias by my side, where I’d been spending anything, and already the cost of every place we had gone was giving me anxiety.
I’d been trying to enjoy myself and ignore the panicking feeling every time my eyes brushed over the price of something, but it had been hard.
Theo’s grin faded for a minute as she stared down at her gelato cup before she pushed it away. “If you ever want to talk about stuff, you know we’re here, right? We’re good listeners.”
“You’re not alone,” Frankie said firmly. “And that bad shit is behind you. Burned down. Salted.”
There was a lump in my throat, unexpected and sharp. I didn’t realize how badly I needed girl time until it wrapped around me like this. “Thanks. I may take you up on that, but you’re right. It’s behind me now.”
“Well, if you ever want to talk. We’re here for you.” Theo gave me a nod.
I knew they both had their own hard experiences. Both of them had been through some things, and that was with them knowing all about the criminal stuff that their brothers were involved in. That idea that they’d be more prepared had been blown out of the water.
Frankie was assaulted and ended up killing someone.
It was a whole situation where she and Theo burned a body and hid the evidence from everyone for years.
Frankie was pretty upfront about how affected she was and how it influenced her decision to become a nurse.
Then, Theo was kidnapped and nearly trafficked. The underworld was a crazy place.
By the time we returned to the brownstone, the sun was melting behind the city skyline. Theo stretched her arms over her head and groaned. “My feet hurt, my back hurts, and I want cookies.”
Frankie rolled her eyes. “You’re going to give Norris a complex, I swear.”
“I love Norris! He’s my bestie, but for all those cookie jars he has, he doesn’t put anything in them.”
I hadn’t met Norris yet. He was the butler (if that was the right word) for Angelo and Theo, but they both raved about him.
Apparently, he had an obsession with vintage cookie jars that was almost obsessive, and Theo had all kinds of hilarious stories about his trips to find collectibles.
We were going to a dinner there next week, so I was hoping to meet him.
Inside the brownstone, we found a fresh tray of koulourakia on the counter. Theo made a sound like a dying animal and reached for one of the Greek shortbreads. Frankie and I just laughed as we all slumped onto chairs. I’d say being a mob wife was hard, but I’d be lying.