“It’s my hotel’s pool. I decide who gets to use it and how.”
April peers up at me, trying to gauge if I’m being serious. Little does she know, I’m always serious. Twenty minutes ago, I had Grisha empty out the place with the excuse of emergency maintenance. Every single guest will be given a generous discount in apology for the inconvenience.
But April doesn’t need to know that. “Births are messy, Matvey!” she shudders. “You could clean it a thousand times afterwards, and still no one would ever want to use it again.”
“Then we’ll just have to use it ourselves,” I reply, drawing close.
I tilt up April’s chin. Big, hazel eyes look up into mine, shining with a million specks of light. Her lips part, but for a while, no sound comes out. “We can’t,” April murmurs in the end.
“My pool,” I r
