“You think your life sucks?” I asked her, my voice calm and gentle. “Why don’t you ask your best friend, Katerina, to tell you the story ofherlife?” I drew closer without breaking eye contact. “The housekeeper is like a grandmother to you, isn’t she? Ask her what she’s had to endure all her life.”
She blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes, her chest rising and falling with even breaths.
“When you hear their stories,Dikaya, you’ll realize just how lucky you are.” I towered over her.
She shook her head, wiping the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t feel lucky, Nik.”
My heart broke when I saw those tears in her eyes. “May I?” I gestured to the space beside her.
She nodded.
I sat on the floor beside her, my gaze sweeping over the horizon. “You’re wrong, you know. Youarelucky.” I glanced at her. “You think he doesn’t care about you, that he’s a monster, cruel and heartless.”
“Is he not?” she asked, looking right into my eyes.
“He is,” I answered. “But not to you.”
Her expression softened, warming my heart. And she wouldn’t stop staring as if she were searching for something—a lie, perhaps.
“He cares about you. More than you think.”
She blinked a few times, then glanced away. “Well, he sucks at showing it.”
“Men like him aren’t trained to be emotional. They’re monsters, remember?” I teased.
And for the first time, she smiled at me—raw, genuine, and unrestrained. Her eyes sparkled like a thousand sapphires, lighting up her mood. I felt good about myself for bringing that beautiful smile to her face.
For the longest time, all I did was piss her off and bask in her anger because I saw this as a game. But things were different now—I no longer delighted in her pain. All I wanted was to see her happy. She’d been through a lot already; a little happiness would do her a lot of good.
Her gaze flicked to my bruised knuckles. “What happened to you?”
I glanced down at them. “Nothing you should worry about.”
We stared at each other for the next few seconds, and although neither of us said a word, we could feel the spark in the silence. Strange how my heartbeat escalated quickly, then gradually steadied the longer I held her gaze.
She broke eye contact, and we both redirected our focus to the night sky. My heart was warm with affection. And when her hand touched mine, it stirred something inside me, something that made my breath hitch.
“It’s Blair, by the way.” She glanced at me.
My brows rose subtly.
“My name,” she added. “Blair Blake.”
My lips curled into a faint, self-satisfied grin. “You’ll always be‘Dikaya’to me,” I teased, grateful that she finally trusted me enough to disclose her name even without me asking.
She drew a deep breath and returned her gaze to the sky. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about Maria and all those trafficked girls.”
Maria?
I’d heard that name recently. But where?
That was when it hit me: That was the name of the girl Richard had brought to the gathering the other night.
“Maria is the friend you said you were looking for when those men jumped you?” I asked her.
“Yeah.” She nodded, clueless as to why I asked.
I paused for a second, trying to connect the dots here. “Is she a redhead?”
