As much as I’d love to hear her say it, she doesn’t.
Grinning to myself, I savor the tension furling around her before heading back over to the Panigale.
Kat can keep pushing me out for as long as she wants, but I can see it in the way she holds herself with so much rigidity that it can’t be mistaken for anything else.
I’ve been alive long enough to know the difference between genuine rejection and resistance masking something else. Something deeper she doesn’t want to face just yet.
But she will eventually.
This is far from over.
Chapter 6 - Katya
The drive home is supposed to help clear my head, but it doesn’t. Not while he keeps creeping back in like a parasite I can’t rid myself of.
Sergey.
He stood in my garage like he owned the place, as if he was anything but intrusive. His arrogance was off the charts, yet he remained calm and collected, as if every word was intentional, and he had no problem with it.
Worst of all, I couldn’t stop noticing everything about him. The sharp cut of his jaw, the way he smiled like it was second nature for him, and he knew he was in control of a game I didn’t agree to play.
I don’t even want to think about him or his annoying tendencies. I sure as hell don’t want to think about his features any longer than I need to.
Luckily, he isn’t my problem anymore. I finished with his bike, and since it’s now gone, I can officially consider him out of my hair.
That means no more Sergey popping up and trying his hardest to break through my indifferent exterior. No more fighting to stand my ground and not crumble.
I hate that I’m even thinking about him after the fact. But he lingers, and I need to shake him off completely.
After making my way through the building, I reach my door and pull out my keys with a heavy sense of unease in my gut. I don’t know why, but since the moment I saw Sergey today, something felt off. And now, it’s gotten worse.
In an attempt to calm myself, I pull in a deep breath and slot my key into place before turning it, but I don’t feel the usual resistance of the lock sliding out. Instead, it’s like nothing was there at all.
I stop cold while I stare down at the key in the lock. I twist it the opposite way, locking it, then turning back to simulate how it usually feels. That resistance is noticeable.
Standing there with rigid shoulders, I can’t make sense of it.
I know I locked the door before I left. I’ve always been careful about things like this, given how I live alone in a big city. Even with the building staff downstairs or the cameras throughout the place, I don’t trust that to be enough.
Not moving a muscle for a long moment, I feel my pulse quicken and my heart goes right into my throat.
I want to think I’m just being paranoid and overreacting.
But then again, my instincts have never failed me before.
Slowly, I turn the knob and push it open before I even set foot inside. The condo is silent and dark as I expect it to be, but something still feels off. Something I can’t put my finger on yet.
“Yuri?” I ask, not ruling out the possibility that my brother might do something as cryptic as entering my place when I’m not home. But the lights being off still doesn’t add up.
I receive no response.
Stepping inside cautiously, I glance around, only hearing the soft sound of my boots against the hardwood floor. The door eventually clicks shut behind me, and I scan the shadows for anything out of place.
My entire body thrums with uneasiness as I move over to the light switch, flick it on, and illuminate the living room.
Then I see him.
Sitting right in the center of the room on the middle cushion of my sofa, Sergey has a leg lazily crossed over the other while his hands are clasped loosely in his lap like he has all the time in the world.
