After everything they had gone through, it was hardly a surprise that Samuel woke up before Yelizaveta. As he looked at her lying in his one-person bed, which had seen better days, Samuel contemplated if getting up would wake her, but it seemed like she was fast asleep. Also, she told him that she wanted coffee and toast when she woke up, so if he could make those and avoid facing the grumpy menace of a woman in the morning, he would gladly do those. He was brewing coffee for himself anyway, so making an extra cup or two made hardly any difference.

As he went to the kitchen, he noticed the mess they had left the previous night. Clothes were scattered on the floor, and the chair where he had sat was still facing his armchair. On that chair, Yelizaveta had buried a gun in his hair like she had when they had first met, but this time, Samuel hadn't feared for his life. He began brewing two mugs of coffee, selecting mismatched mugs out of habit, as his household hadn't believed in matching dinnerware for a long time. If it was functional, it was good enough for him.

When Yelizaveta finally emerged from the bedroom, Samuel couldn't help but notice she had grabbed one of his t-shirts, an olive green one he rarely wore but which she had probably just grabbed from the closet. Seeing her in his clothes was odd, especially after seeing her wear expensive suits and well-tailored dresses one after another. When she walked to the living room area, Yelizaveta looked deceivingly like an average person.

"Morning, your toast is at the table," Samuel said, turning around.

She seemed slightly uncomfortable, and Samuel couldn't blame her. Either she was that or just still half-asleep, since judging by the voices, she hadn't been awake more than a few minutes. Either way, Samuel knew how difficult it was for her to rely on anyone, even for something as simple as breakfast, as he placed the coffee mug in front of her. The amount of milk she used was a crime, but from everything she had done, it was just one more crime he was willing to accept. It was good enough for Samuel that she accepted the coffee. She had always been fiercely independent, and accepting help didn't come naturally.

"Thanks," Yelizaveta answered, "And good morning."

"There is just one chair kitchen chair, so I can stand."

He had carried the chair from the living room back to the kitchen, trying not to think of last evening. The chair had a place, and it was by the small kitchen table, not in the living room. It was not fit for negotiations, as it was solely for Samuel to drink coffee in the morning and drown himself in paperwork.

"You will if that's the case," Yelizaveta said while looking at Samuel.

Samuel watched her as she sipped her coffee and ate her toast. He could see the shift in her demeanour as the caffeine and food began to wake her up, and she seemed to evolve from a gremlin to a human little by little. It was, nonetheless, weird to see her sitting on his kitchen table first thing in the morning. A week ago, Samuel hadn't believed anything like that could've happened. He wondered what was going through her mind but didn't dare ask. There would probably be plenty of opportunities for them to talk, and if he had learned anything, it was not to disturb her in the mornings.

"You know, you make that shirt look better than I ever did," Samuel said.

"Nobody can make this look even moderately good, whoever they might be. It's a temporary arrangement," she responded. "We have places to go today, so you better finish that coffee, or you don't."

"And where might that be?"

"To the other side of the street, for starters, because I'm not wearing yesterday's clothes or walking to that shower," Yelizaveta said and looked toward Samuel's bathroom.

"And do I even want to ask why we're going to the other side of the street?"

"Oh, I just got a space for my things and for my men to spend an evening if something was to happen."

Her words made Samuel uneasy. The idea of being watched all night was unsettling, and it showed on his face.

"Were they watching the whole evening?" Samuel's voice was a mix of fear and disgust.

"Don't worry, I'm not into that. More like if you tried to run, you would've been caught before even seeing the next street," Yelizaveta said and smiled at him.

Samuel swallowed hard. He had no intention of running, but the idea that she had gone to such lengths to ensure he didn't try made him feel like a prisoner. In theory, he had been a prisoner since the moment they met, but he had started to forget it more often than he cared to admit. It was easier to ignore that detail as he began to care about her.

"Well, it seems didn't I make myself clear enough," Yelizaveta said and emptied what was left of her coffee. "We're going after I've gathered my things, and you better be ready, or you're leaving like that."

Samuel saw Yelizaveta look at him up and down. He was wearing a t-shirt, boxers and a morning coat and hadn't had time to brush his hair or teeth yet. If his hair tended to stick in various directions regularly, it was thrice as bad in the mornings, and while choosing between brushing it and making breakfast, the latter had won. Samuel quickly stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth, flushed it with a long sip of coffee and wasn't sure what to do afterwards.

"You didn't answer my question," Samuel said. "But honestly, I just need to know if I'll return today or next year."

"Today, Samuel, if you don't do or try anything stupid. I'm merciful enough to give you an evening to pack up everything you need, and besides, I've got places to go later today. Places to go alone."

Her emphasis on alone wasn't lost on him. Samuel nodded and retreated to the bathroom to get ready. He washed up quickly, brushed his teeth, and threw on the best clothes he could find, a white button-down shirt and dark denim jeans, topped with a charcoal grey jacket. Compared to what he had been wearing yesterday, it wasn't much, but there was no way he could've worn the clothes that reeked of sweat and anxiety, no matter how much more stylish and expensive they were. It was almost a crime that he had first sweated through the shirt and suit jacket, only to toss them both to the floor to embrace the person who had caused his earlier distress.

"I'm ready," Samuel said a few minutes later as he emerged from the bedroom area.

Yelizaveta looked him up and down again, seemingly approving of his choice, and Samuel breathed from the relief. She grabbed her coat and shoes, ready to leave. It was weird to see her wear his shirt, even though it would be just from one side of the street to another, but Samuel didn't have much time to get lost in his thoughts as Yelizaveta was already leaving his apartment.

As they made their way to the street, a large moving truck parked outside caught Samuel's attention, along with a few people busily carrying boxes and furniture. Margaret sat at the chairs, supervising the operation and leaning on her cane while watching as the items got carried to the truck. He looked at Yelizaveta, and Samuel could read from her face that she knew what was happening. Suddenly, he hoped to walk back to his apartment and not leave before everyone left the street.

"Oh, good morning to you, Samuel," Margaret said. "It seems like your... friend found her way to your place last evening."

Samuel didn't want to let Yelizaveta and Margaret interact with each other more than necessary, yet that decision wasn't his to make. Margaret didn't know that she was dealing with a woman who led a criminal organisation and who had kidnapped Samuel, but also who Samuel was hopelessly falling in love with. He didn't even want to know how the sweet old lady would react if she knew what had happened to him in the past week and a half.

"Uh, hello, Margaret. Yes, this is," Samuel didn't get to finish his sentence before getting interrupted.

"Elena Bennett, it is a pleasure to meet you again, Ms Hatter, and pardon for not introducing myself earlier. It seems like you are having a busy time," Yelizaveta finished Samuel's sentence.

He didn't know how Yelizaveta had explained to Margaret why she was paying three million for a laptop, but he also didn't want to know. Some things around her were the kind Samuel was gladly unaware of if they didn't consider him, or in some cases, even if they did.

"Busy indeed, dear. Though I must admit, it's quite the sight to see young Mr Herrington here finally bringing someone around. And such a charming lady at that. Samuel, you've kept this one quite hidden, right?" Margaret asked.

If Samuel could've chosen, he would've left the conversation at that exact moment and forgotten it ever even happened. If there was one thing he didn't want to explain to anyone, it was how he had met Yelizaveta. The whole story about being kidnapped, forced to travel across Europe, tied up multiple times in various locations and made to endure all kinds of borderline torture didn't sound like a love story of the century. Samuel shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and Yelizaveta, without a doubt, saw him doing that. She didn't seem to care about Samuel's discomfort, and he was sure that he wouldn't get away any time soon when she started the conversation with Margaret. He saw the smile that was everything but genuine rising to Yelizaveta's face.

"Yes, it has been quite hectic with all the things that have happened lately," Yelizaveta said and ignored the question directed to Samuel. "But it's always refreshing to see new beginnings, isn't it, Ms Hatter? Samuel has told me so much about you, and I've been looking forward to meeting the woman who's been keeping an eye on him."

"Oh, has he now? And here I thought I was just the nosy neighbour upstairs," Margaret said, leaning slightly towards Yelizaveta. "So, Elena, was it? What exactly do you do? Samuel's quite secretive regarding his work, always saying it's just boring tech stuff. But I imagine someone like you isn't around just for his programming skills, even less after our... earlier exchange."

Samuel felt a knot tighten in his stomach. If he had learned to know Yelizaveta, she could as well tell the whole truth then and there without any hesitation. The entire situation was out of Samuel's control, and if he could choose, he would rather not be linked to crime if possible, although that would be his life from now on. Now, when he thought about it, he should've started to get used to the at least somewhat morally grey life he would be living.

"Well, Ms Hatter, let's just say Samuel's boring tech stuff intersects quite neatly with my line of work. I'm in... let's call it asset management and acquisition. High-stakes, high-reward, much like what he used to do, albeit in a different context," Yelizaveta explained.

That had been the most professional way to say that one ruled over a good portion of Southern Europe's illegal gun trading and various other criminal activities on a side as a weekend fun time. Samuel breathed deeply, as she had needed to explain that before and knew exactly what she was doing. Samuel saw Margaret nod, seemingly satisfied with the explanation, though the way she looked at Samuel suggested she believed there was more to the story.

"Asset management, huh? Sounds thrilling. And here I was, thinking Samuel couldn't possibly be involved in anything exciting."

"Oh, you have no idea, Ms Hatter. But what's important is that we've found common ground in our work and... well, in each other. I suppose you could say I'm not just here for the professional skills," Yelizaveta said while smiling widely.

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, then. It's about time someone snatched this one up," Margaret said. "Just make sure to keep him in line, Elena. He's a good boy but could use a strong woman to keep him focused."

Samuel wanted to scream uncontrollably because encouragement was the last thing Yelizaveta needed to push Samuel however she wanted.

"I assure you, Ms Hatter, that keeping him focused for a long time is part of my plan."

"Vera," Samuel tried to interject the conversation. "You said there was something to do."

Yelizaveta gave Samuel a gaze that could mean only one thing, which was that he would hear about interrupting her chat with Margaret. Even though she didn't say anything, Yelizaveta grabbed his arm and looked up at him, and Samuel had to force a smile on his face.

"Oh, how silly of me. There are so many things to unpack before we can stay at my place today. Sadly, we couldn't have more time together," Yelizaveta said.

"Well, I will let Samuel know if I ever visit London. It would be wonderful to meet again, Elena, since it sounded like you had plenty of good time yesterday," Margaret answered, and Samuel could feel the blush rising to his cheeks as he caught what she meant. "And Samuel, I will leave your plant and the key to your home, so please, don't lock yourself off your apartment."

With a final wave goodbye to Margaret, they continued their trip, leaving the moving truck and its busy workers behind. Samuel glanced at Yelizaveta, who still had her arm wrapped around his as she walked to the other side of the street.

"You handle that well," he admitted.

"Lying becomes easier the more you do it. As does being called with whatever name you come up with, although I liked that one, I picked it for university."

"Well, I guess you can't tell people about your life."

"Nope, but now," Yelizaveta said and turned the key on a lock. "Entertain yourself while I'll get ready."

Samuel had no idea who had lived in the building, but the pieces of furniture looked relatively new. He hadn't ever bothered to check whether the property had been used as a rental, even though it was across his house. Yelizaveta kicked the shoes off her feet and tossed the coat to Samuel before disappearing to what was most likely a bathroom, leaving him standing in the hallway.

"I said, entertain yourself," she said from the corner of the door. "Otherwise, you'll be standing there for a while, so you might as well get to know your new co-workers."

Seeing Yelizaveta disappear to the bathroom left Samuel standing in a stranger's apartment that now apparently served as a temporary base for Yelizaveta. He hadn't been told how long she would stay there and if he should be prepared to pack his car and plant up for another weekend trip or if she was thinking of some kind of more permanent solution with him. Thinking about that wouldn't help him now, so he took Yelizaveta's advice to do something while waiting and walked further into the apartment, eventually finding himself in the living room. It felt wrong to get so close to his neighbour's home when Samuel lived just across the street, especially when the two homes were so far from each other regarding decorations. The person sitting on the sofa was familiar to Samuel, whether he liked that fact or not, as he had been the man he had seen around Yelizaveta or standing at her hotel room door. Today, the same tattooed man was absorbed in a book, clearly not caring about Samuel's presence, so Yelizaveta must've informed him that he would be coming with her. The man, whose name Samuel had never learned, simply looked up as Samuel entered the room, only to return to his book moments later. Samuel sat on the chair and cleared his throat, yet still, talking seemed harder of a task than usual.

"Morning," Samuel said.

"Morning," he replied before returning to the pages before him.

"That's a good book. I've read it before. Quite the thriller, isn't it?" Samuel tried to keep the conversation going.

He was shooting in the dark, hoping to find something to discuss. Samuel would have at least tried if Yelizaveta had wanted him to talk. The bodyguard spared him another glance, yet he was not interested in speaking with him.

"Yes," he answered simply.

Samuel nodded.

"Samuel Herrington, a... pleasure to meet you. You've been with Yelizaveta long, I assume?" he tried again.

The bodyguard placed a bookmark between the pages of his book and set it aside, finally giving Samuel his attention. When he did, Samuel wasn't nearly as sure if he wanted the attention.

"You can call me Faton, Mr Herrington. And to answer your question, long enough," he said.

His tone implied that the depth of his relationship with Yelizaveta, or any details of his employment, for that matter, was not up for discussion, like most likely any other topic. Faton picked his book back up, ending Samuel's attempt at dialogue, and he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. Maybe he should try another person if he wanted to befriend some of Yelizaveta's family members, or perhaps he should stick with the friends he already had and devise an excuse for his sudden career change. The latter seemed a much more inviting option.

***

Even though Yelizaveta had said that she would take a while to get ready, they were out of the apartment and walking the streets of London an hour and a half later. She had insisted on taking a metro instead of a taxi or being driven to wherever they were going, and Samuel wondered if that was because she hadn't taken a metro before. At least she hadn't had any idea how the lines operated, so Samuel felt like he was the more knowledgeable one of them for once. When he saw how Yelizaveta blended into the London streets, he understood why he couldn't track her. While he wouldn't tell her, he had anticipated finding an older lady, possibly with a scar across her face, smoking a cigar when he had been tasked to find Yelizaveta Dragomirov, not the woman who walked next to him and who was curious to check every possible store window on their way.

She had decided to dress in dark, fitted jeans that looked like one of the more comfortable clothes she had worn so far. Paired with a simple white blouse with sleeves rolled to the elbow and the top buttons left undone to give a casual vibe, she looked like any other person crossing them. The only thing differentiating her from the rest was the perfume she wore, which Samuel had learned to associate with her even during their short time together. The scent was a mix of tangerines, bergamot and vanilla, and there hadn't been a day when she hadn't worn it. Over her blouse, Yelizaveta wore a tailored blazer, dark with faint pinstripes, and it was clear that each piece of her fitted together and was chosen with care.

"Be a gentleman and open the door for me, Sammy," Yelizaveta said as she looked at him over the oversized circular sunglasses she had chosen to finish the attire.

Samuel would've done it even without her asking, but he knew she would get some sort of satisfaction from ordering him around, and he didn't mind as long as she didn't order him to kneel, unless behind closed doors. Samuel rubbed the ring on his finger as they walked inside the cafe, and he looked at the simple yet stylish interior. Yelizaveta had made it clear that it was his time to be her husband yet again, and the first time that would take them part wasn't going to happen for the next ten years, so he had better get used to the ring. Then again, being a mafia boss's fake husband wasn't probably the worst job title one could hold.

"Good day, what could I get for you?" a woman's voice greeted them from the other side of the counter.

The moment Samuel looked in the voice's direction, he froze.

"It's so hard to choose. What should I get, what should I get?" Yelizaveta said as she leaned close to the pastry shelf.

Samuel was unable to say anything or move. Yelizaveta knew precisely why they had come to this cafe, and Samuel cursed her for that.

"Darling, have you chosen yet?" Yelizaveta asked and looked at Samuel with a grin on her face. "I think I'm going to get a strawberry cake slice. Oh, and an iced latte!"

There was no reason for Yelizaveta to sound so excited, and Samuel wanted to drag her out of the cafe on that second. He looked at the waitress, her short brown hair and his own hazel eyes staring back at him. He stood across from his daughter, who was unaware of who he was, as well as the fact that the person between them was the world's most dangerous woman.

"You gotta choose, or we're making a queue," Yelizaveta added.

"Uh... a black coffee and," Samuel looked at the sweets, and suddenly they could've all been rocks of what he cared. "I guess a croissant."

"The plain one or the chocolate one?" Julie asked with a smile on her face.

Samuel hadn't prepared for questions. The whole croissant situation felt more like pain than plain or chocolate to him, and he didn't even want to start thinking of adding anything to that. He hadn't prepared for anything Yelizaveta had tossed to him, yet the simple question of what kind of pastry he wanted was the worst question he had ever asked of him. There was little he could do if he didn't want to cause a scene at a cafe, of all places.

"Sorry, we just returned from Berlin, so he's still a bit out there," Yelizaveta said. "We can take them both, as they look lovely."

It was unnatural to hear Yelizaveta speak and act like that, especially when she was talking to his daughter. There were three people in the conversation: Samuel, who needed all of the strength in him not to break; Yelizaveta, who enjoyed every passing second when she could witness his torture; and Julie, who was blissfully unaware of what was unravelling before her. She was just serving a pair of customers and would forget them before the day ended. Samuel wouldn't forget when he saw his daughter for the first time eighteen years after her birth.

"The card, please," Yelizaveta said, hovering her fingers before Samuel.

Samuel cursed as he had forgotten that Yelizaveta had made him carry the wallet and other items she didn't have space to carry in her pockets. With slightly shaking hands, Samuel dug the card from his pocket and handed it to her, which she quickly placed on top of the machine and returned to him.

"Thank you. Your items will be ready for pick-up soon from the counter," Julie said, greeted and pointed to the counter at the end of the area where they had made the drinks.

"Thank you, and sorry for taking a while," Yelizaveta answered, taking Samuel's hand. "Time to choose a table, my dear."

While it was barely an afternoon, Samuel wanted to scream for the second time that day. He followed Yelizaveta to the table, where they had a clear view of the counter, but that was still far enough for their voices to disappear to the crown, and Samuel didn't know where he should look.

"She seems like a nice girl," Yelizaveta said and leaned to her hand. "I should've taken her with me while buying the diamonds. That was something I thought of. I'm not sure if I've told you."

"You're a monster. I've never seen her, and you made me choose a bloody croissant as my first interaction with her," Samuel hissed.

"A monster would've told her who you are, so think of it as like pulling off a band-aid. And now you have plenty of time to observe her. She kind of looks like you, did you notice?"

"Yes, I fucking noticed that Vera. It's like looking at a mirror and seeing both me and Katherine simultaneously. And what do you mean you were thinking of taking her with you?"

"She seemed nice, and I wondered if I could've found her a place in my family. Kind of ironic that I ended up with you instead," Yelizaveta said with a joyful tone.

Before Samuel had time to say anything, Julie's co-worker yelled their order, and Samuel looked at Yelizaveta with pleading eyes.

"Please don't."

"Show what a good husband you are, and don't make your dear wife get up to carry some fucking tray like it's 1950's."

If words could kill, Samuel would've bled to death in seconds. He sighed and knew Yelizaveta wouldn't get up, so he accepted his defeat and walked to the counter. Thankfully, it was Julie's co-worker instead of her facing him at the counter, but even a second near a daughter who didn't know who he was was too long.

"An iced latte, a black coffee, strawberry cake and two croissants, right? Enjoy!" the employee said, and Samuel simply nodded in response.

"Nice watch, by the way."

Samuel cursed. It was always something Yelizaveta had gotten to him that caught people's attention, but not many people walked around with such a watch in their day-to-day lives. He returned and placed the tray on the table before sitting down and digging his fingers into his hair.

"Way to lose the appetite," he murmured.

"Now there, it's not like either of you will die. Talking to her is easier when you've seen her already."

"And when's that going to be?"

"On Saturday," Yelizaveta answered, taking a long sip of her coffee with a straw.

"In two days? What are you planning?" Samuel asked and raised his head.

Nobody would think that the woman across from him, wearing sunglasses on her forehead and eating a slice of cake, was the person she was. The person who would first make someone's life make a complete turn and then make him moan her name to the night. In Samuel's case, both had been true. The whole uncanniness of the scenario made Samuel fear her even more, not only for himself or Julie but for everyone else with whom she might be involved in this.

"Nothing you should know or worry about, Sam. So, take your nasty bitter coffee and croissant and enjoy your life, and let me handle the hard bits," Yelizaveta said, taking another bite of the cake. "Or, more like, the bits that would be hard for anyone but me."

"Please don't say my name here."

"So you say you would rather be called mine?" Yelizaveta asked, and her eyes widened with joy.

"On this instance, I guess. Even that's better than having to have the conversation now."

"You can just admit that you like it."

Samuel felt how Yelizaveta's foot lifted the fabric of his pants up and touched his ankle. Even such a simple gesture sent shivers down Samuel's spine.

"Not here, please," Samuel begged, knowing he had no option but to obey her.

"If you don't want me to continue, drink your coffee and eat your croissant, or I will make you whimper."

If there had ever been a motivator to finish what was on Samuel's plate, it was being tormented in a cafe by Yelizaveta. He downed the coffee with a quick sip, even though it was still a bit too hot, and ate the plain croissant without saying another word to her. Samuel tried to logic that she wouldn't do anything that pulled the attention to her in a place like a cafe, but then again, it was Yelizaveta who he was speaking of. There wasn't certainty with her.

"There we go. It wasn't that hard to be a good boy, right?" Yelizaveta teased.

"So what now?" Samuel asked. "Will you make me confess everything to her right here because you changed your mind?"

"I'm not. There are other places I need to visit, so you have to survive on your own until the evening, but think of it in a way that you get to have some time to sort everything here."

Samuel watched as Yelizaveta finished her slice of cake, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, and put her fork to the edge of the plate.

"Why don't you go and get yourself another cup of coffee? I'll be leaving for a bit and meet you again later at your home," she suggested.

That was the voice Samuel had learned not to question, so if Yelizaveta said he should get another cup of coffee, he was expected to do just that. Before he could say anything to her, she had already gathered her belongings and grabbed her wallet from Samuel's pocket. Yelizaveta had been generous enough to leave him with the phone, credit card and keys to his house so Samuel wouldn't need to knock on his neighbour's doors the first thing when he got back. He watched as she walked to the door, and through the window, he saw Faton, her bodyguard. Samuel saw the man gazing at him, but evidently, they did not need to greet each other in any way. He was simply doing his job, and Samuel was doing whatever anyone wanted to call what he was doing. He knew then that Yelizaveta had planned every detail of this morning, from their trip on the metro to the cafe, and even though Samuel hadn't seen her bodyguards, they had undoubtedly been following her wherever she went. With a sigh, Samuel pushed himself to his feet and approached the counter again. The barista, a different one this time, greeted him with a cheerful smile, and Samuel glanced quickly around yet didn't see Julie anywhere nearby. Thanking his luck for not needing to reencounter her, Samuel cleared his throat.

"Another black coffee, please," he managed to say.

A simple thing like ordering a cup of coffee had never been this hard to him, and as he waited, he found himself repeatedly glancing towards the door through which Yelizaveta had exited, half-expecting her to return on some whimsical change of mind. Yet, the street outside remained just as busy as before, with no sign of the woman who had turned his life upside down. He hadn't anticipated that he needed to search for a way to make sure his singular house plant would live and transport him to the other side of Europe if required, yet it was something he possibly needed to do. Samuel refused to give up that plant, his mismatched coffee mugs, or his beloved car. Yelizaveta could do whatever she wanted to him, yet he wouldn't get rid of all of his old things, no matter what she would say or do. The plant and car would stay. Samuel accepted the cup of coffee with murmured words before returning to his seat, where he would sit while eating the other croissant and what would happen two days from now.