Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Matteo
It takes three days to hear anything from Anya. So long that I almost didn’t expect her to reach out at all. After the first forty-eight hours of radio silence, I assumed Anton changed his mind and didn’t give her my number.
But just five minutes ago I woke up to her first text. Only four words. Four words that I could almost hear in her sweet, slightly-accented voice when I tried hard enough.
Hello, this is Anya.
Short and simple.
If it were up to me, I would have gotten her phone number from Anton rather than him taking mine.
Girls almost always hate initiating texting conversation.
Especially shy ones like Anya. I couldn’t exactly suggest this to the Russian Pakhan, though.
He could have changed his mind as soon as I said a single word he didn’t like.
Still, I have no way of knowing if her shyness caused the delay, or if it was her father’s reluctance to allow communication between the two of us. Maybe he took a few days to give her my contact, maybe he wrote it down and burned it and had to call my dad to get it again.
Either way, we’re in contact now. A victorious smile spreads across my face as I read her first message again, awake enough now to know that I’m not dreaming it. It’s very much real. Anya Morozov texted me.
Not wanting to keep her waiting, I send a quick message back as I roll out of bed and pad into the bathroom.
Matteo
Hey, Anya. It’s Matteo. How are you? I’ll send a pic of the twins in just a minute to confirm my identity.
Setting my phone down but turning the ringer up, I get to work emptying my bladder and waking myself up.
I’m drying my face after washing it with cold-ass water when my phone dings again.
Anya
To confirm your identity?
I grin, walking out of the ensuite bathroom and through my bedroom.
It’s a fucking mess in here right now. Clothes all over the floor, shoes that haven’t been put back in my closet, and pillows scattered about.
But the state of my living quarters are currently not my problem.
It’s not like I’m expecting company. The only people who ever visit my room anymore are related to me.
Matteo
Of course! How do you know that your dad isn’t the one texting you from a fake number otherwise?
Her typing bubble pops up for a few seconds and then disappears. Silly girl probably doesn’t know what the heck to say to that.
I have that effect on people.
Jogging, I make it to the bottom of the stairs before she responds.
Anya
I don’t think my father would suggest that if he was planning to impersonate you.
I knew she was clever.
Matteo
Solid point. I’m still going to send a pic of the kids, though. Better safe than sorry. *Shrugging man emoji*
Bare feet navigating through my maze of a house, I blindly follow the sound of little giggles and distant conversation.
It’s just past 10:00 a.m. now, which means the kids have already devoured breakfast and are probably having playtime in the family room.
Some mornings I attempt to wake up earlier and help with breakfast, but these kids wake up at indecent times. Sometimes as early as six!
When I have kids, they’ll have to learn to love sleeping as much as Daddy does.
With me as their father, they’ll not only be hilarious and full of energy, they’ll learn that the best way to be fueled for the day is a good night’s snooze.
The little tikes will look forward to nap time as much as I do—I hope.
Thinking about early wake ups, I suddenly remember that Anya is in California for Christ’s sake. It’s like 7:00 a.m. there. Yuck.
Immediately, I send her another message.
Matteo
Do you always wake up so early?
“Hey, sleepyhead,” my sister calls out, spotting me before anyone else.
I look up from my phone to find her holding her daughter while lounging on the couch.
They’re wearing matching pink and white pajamas with little clouds on them.
Meanwhile Cesar is on the ground in his green dino jammies and matching socks, smashing toy trucks together while Ivan watches, pretending to be wholly interested in the destruction.
“Hey,” I greet in return, opening my camera app and pointing my phone at her. “Smile.”
“What?” she gasps, trying to hide her makeup-free face too slowly.
“Cute,” I comment, saving it.
“Matteo!” she complains shrilly. “I wasn’t ready.”
“Looks perfect to me,” I disagree honestly.
Jade always looks beautiful, even sleep-deprived and cranky—which she hasn’t been since the twins’ newborn days.
The sound of aggressive crawling catches my attention and I bend down to scoop Cesar up as he gets to my feet.
“How’d you know that I want a picture with you too, little menace? ”
“Dog,” he tells me, swinging his arms animatedly.
“Oh, did you help walk Aunt Ana’s dog this morning?” I ask, flaring my eyes wide to mirror his excitement. “Was Sirius a good boy?”
“Armani let him hold the leash,” Dmitri says, entering the room with a steaming cup of coffee. “He hasn’t stopped telling anyone who will listen.”
“You held the leash?” I ask, tickling his stomach. “Look at you, Mr. Muscles.” Sirius is a trained security Doberman who’s been with Ana since she married Cassio. A chicken could hold his leash and he’d behave. Thankfully, since Cesar is quite obsessed with him recently.
Before my nephew can get bored of me, shout no, or squirm away, I snag a selfie of the two of us and save it to send with the one of Jade and Isobella.
“Where’s everyone today?” I ask, letting Cesar back down to return to his toys. He crawls back to Ivan instead of walking, knowing that he can speed faster that way.
“Ana and Cassio are at the orphanage planning for an upcoming fundraiser,” Jade says, beginning to list out everyone’s whereabouts like it’s her job.
“Apollo is off with the Todorovs, Nico and Remo are upstairs, Armani went with Ana and Cassio, and…everyone else hasn’t said or I haven’t seen them.
Oh! Dad’s outside doing check-ins with the guards. And Martha is prepping lunch, I think.”
“You’re always on top of it,” I praise, maneuvering around the couch to kiss both her and her daughter on the top of the head. “I need a snack. I’ll be right back.”
“Bring me a couple raspberries, will you?”
“Got it!”
I open back up my text thread and select the two pictures, finding that Anya has replied.
Anya
It’s only 7. That’s not too early.
Matteo
You sound like these two. Early birds, all of you. *attached 2 images*
Matteo
Those are my proof of identity by the way.
“Martha, my love,” I sing, gliding into the kitchen. “Did you miss me?”
“Don’t bother me while I’m chopping,” she warns, lifting her knife to point it at me. “You have a breakfast sandwich on the top shelf. Heat it for one minute, or eat it cold like a heathen.”
“You know me too well.” I’m definitely eating it like a heathen. Something about a cold egg, double bacon, and cheese on a buttery croissant makes me so fucking happy. “I’m grabbing some berries for Jade and the babies too.”
“We need to grow them in the greenhouse,” she tells me, shaking her head. “We go through berries faster than we go through coffee now.”
I chuckle, grabbing my wrapped sandwich, a bottle of water, and the whole bowl of raspberries. “Don’t pretend you don’t love going to the markets to flirt with that farmer. What was his name again?”
She huffs, not even cracking a blush. “Get out of my kitchen before I decide that you do not get lunch.”
“Love you too, Martha.” I head out before she can smack me with a dish towel or threaten my dinner next.
My stomach growls as I hustle back into the living room, more than ready to devour my breakfast. I hand Jade her berries and hop onto the other end of the couch, tearing open my food while checking my phone.
Anya
I believed it was you without the pictures, but it’s nice to see them. They like to wake up early, then?
I snag a huge bite before typing out my response.
Matteo
TOO early. I don’t think Cesar would ever sleep if he could help it. I think he hates missing out on anything that could possibly be going on at any given time.
Matteo
FOMO at age one is wild, but that’s our boy.
“Who are you texting this early?” Jade asks, her voice pulling me away from my phone. “And while you’re eating? You always say no text is more important than your food.”
Swallowing my mouthful, I roll my eyes. “I can multitask when I want to.”
My sister raises a brow at me. “Nice deflection, but that didn’t answer my question.” A chime fills the room as my phone dings and she gives me another look filled with suspicion. “And your ringer is on? That’s not unusual at all.”
“Your sarcasm is noted, and it’s not appreciated,” I tell her, sounding insulted. “I got you a bowl of berries and all you do to repay me is hurt my feelings with your mockery.”
She scoffs. “You’re a terrible actor.”
“You’ve crushed me,” I gasp, clutching my chest in pain. “My dreams of winning a Grammy, slain by my only sister’s harsh words.”
“Grammys are music awards,” Ivan cuts in, rolling his eyes from his spot on the floor.
Huh. “What’s the acting one?”
“There are several,” he replies dully.
“Weird,” I reply, thinking about it. “I feel like I should have known that.”
“I’m not surprised that you don’t,” Jade says with a little hint of sass. “You think zombie movies are peak entertainment.”
A genuine gasp bursts from my lips. “Now you’re just being mean, dear sister. You said you like my movies. The lies—the deceit!”
“You’re still avoiding my question.”
My phone chimes again and I can’t help but check it.
Anya
But you like to sleep in?
Anya
Sorry, was that weird? I didn’t know how to reply.
My heart gives a funny flutter at the thought of her second-guessing such a simple question. I picture her chewing on her bottom lip again and holding her phone tight—anxious that it’s taken me a bit longer to reply.
Matteo