"I trust him with Zara's safety," I said finally. "That's what matters."
"Okay." Shanice nodded. "Then do it. Talk to him."
I finished my whiskey and stood. "I should go. Let you sleep."
"You could stay. Take the couch."
"No. I need to…" What? Go back to the mansion? Face Olek? Pretend my world hadn't just imploded? "I need to think."
Shanice walked me to the door. "Hey, Kat?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happened tonight, whatever made you come here—just remember that you're strong as hell. You've survived worse than this, and I love you girl."
Had I? I wasn't so sure anymore.
“I love you, too.” I said before leaving.
I drove back to the mansion in a daze, my mind cycling through options and dead ends. Talk to Olek about Zara. Find a way to make it work. Keep her safe. That was the priority. Everything else—the contract, my feelings, the image of him kissing another woman—had to come second.
I pulled into the staff parking lot at 2 AM. The mansion was dark except for a few lights on the third floor. Olek's floor. Was he awake? Looking for me? Or was he with his ex, discussingtheir daughter and their future and all the things that didn't include me? I turned my phone on, set it on the seat, and sighed. My phone buzzed catching my attention.
OLEK
Where are you? We need to talk.
Please. Let me explain.
Katrina. Answer me.
Ten texts. Twelve. All growing more desperate. I should ignore them. Should make him wait. Should protect what was left of my heart.
Instead, I typed:
I need to talk to you too. Tomorrow. About something important.
The response came immediately.
Now. Come to me now.
Tomorrow. In your study. Noon.
Katrina, no.
I turned off my phone and headed to my room.
Tomorrow, I'd ask him for help with Zara. Tomorrow, I'd figure out how to survive the rest of our days. Tonight, I'd let myself break. Just a little. Just enough. I locked my door, climbed into bed fully dressed, and finally let myself cry.
Katrina
Istood outside Olek's study at exactly noon, my hand raised to knock. I reminded myself what we were here for. This was business. Just asking for help with a practical problem. It had nothing to do with the fact that I'd cried myself to sleep. Or that I'd woken up with swollen eyes and a hollow chest. Or that every time I closed my eyes, I saw him kissing her.
Business. Keep it business.
I knocked.
"Come in."
