I laugh. “Here, it’s actually easier than it looks.” I trace my finger around the dining room. “This is the room we’re in now. See, here are the stairs from the foyer. This line here is the wall where the bookshelf will go.”
“Oh, okay, and that’s the fireplace.” She points, understanding.
“Yes, and this here shows it’s an entrance to the next level. Which is on a different blueprint.”
“And this?”
“The west wing. Here is my favorite room, the one I’m most looking forward to creating.” I point to the far corner of the blueprint. “The walls will basically all be windows. Both sides. I’ll create custom frames. I was thinking of carving vines into the woodwork, because this will be a sunroom of sorts, filled with plants and a natural indoor swimming pool filled by a waterfallthat runs over a rock wall. Then there will be a really elaborate staircase, each step made from sleeper wood, floating, that leads to the upper level.”
“It’s going to take you forever,” she whispers, imagining the things I’m describing.
“I’m not in a rush. Beautiful things take time to create. When I look at these white lines, I see past them to the design in my head. It’s just a shell, waiting to hold my dreams.”
I feel her eyes on me and pull mine off the blueprint, towards her. Her face is filled with wonder as she studies my expression. “You really love this, don’t you. It’s a true passion. One you’re really good at, I might add. I really admire that kind of commitment to something that makes you so happy. It’s something special to be able to follow your dream like that.”
“Thank you, yes, it is a passion. It’s an outlet, a way to share a piece of myself in the things I create. I really don’t care how long it takes me. I know some people rush the process because they think the goal is the thing that matters most. For me, the process is just as pleasurable as the outcome. You must have something that you love doing, too?” I cock my head to the side. “What brings you to life? What do you dream of creating or bringing to life?”
The question is innocent enough. I certainly don’t expect it to provoke the look of hurt that immediately clouds her expression. Katerina pushes away from the blueprint, sitting up straight for a second, her brows knitted.
She huffs, then stands up.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, confused.
“Nothing, why would you think that? I’m just busy with something, and I’m done here,” she snaps, heated and angry, her words not matching her sudden mood shift at all.
“Uh…” I stammer, furrowing my brow. “Okay, I guess, sure, go ahead.”
But she’s already walking away from me, not even pausing to glance back when she storms out of the room.
What the hell just happened?I clearly hit a nerve.
All I did was mention her dreams or aspirations. Something is going on there. I wonder what.
For the rest of the day, Katerina avoids me, and I can’t stop thinking about how easily I upset her with one innocent question. I decide to investigate further. If she won’t tell me, I can find out in my own way.
One call to my private detective and he’s on the case.
I tell him to start as small as possible, not wanting to make waves or attract attention. I’ve asked him to hack her e-mails and her message history.
It’ll at least give me an idea of what’s going on with her.
It doesn’t take him long to get back to me. Later that night, he calls after dinner, when Kat is somewhere upstairs.
I walk out into the garden when my phone rings.
“Dante, what have you got for me?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“Well, sir, it looks like Katerina was about to open her own business just before her uncle died. There are a number of e-mails detailing a business plan, her cost breakdown, her ideas…she wanted to be a fashion designer.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why she got upset when I asked her about her dreams. She could have just told me that.”
“No, I think the reason it’s a sore spot for her is that her brothers shut it down. There is an intense conversation between Artur and her on messenger. She was angry and hurt because he told her she had to put it off due to him taking over as a Bratva leader. He didn’t want her to make a name for herself and draw attention. He felt she would be putting a target on her back, and it was an unnecessary risk for the family.”
I sigh heavily. “So, he blocked her dreams.”
“Yes, sir. To keep her safe. He made it clear it was a temporary setback. He said she could do it in a few years after the family was more established and had enough power to protect her. I think, by the tone of her messages, she understood, but was bitterly disappointed.”
“That’s not fair, though. There are other ways to work around things,” I huff.
