“The same thing my father wants.” She sounds tired now. Worn. “Our families united. A wife on his arm who knows which fork to use at which course and won’t embarrass him in front of politicians and dignitaries. A mother for his future children who knows how to stand still and smile and not say very much.”
My chest tightens at the thought of her having to live that life.
Her thumb runs along the lid, then flicks it open.
Inside is a necklace that doesn’t belong in my bedroom—huge diamond halo, drop sapphire in the middle, the kind of thing you’d see in a museum or on a red carpet, not next to my drawer of Hawkeyes t-shirts.
“Sapphire alone is worth about half a million,” she says quietly. “Maxim made sure to point that out. ‘A taste of the life I can offer you, Katerina.’” Her accent thickens when she mimics him. It makes my skin crawl. “Like I’m a stray dog he’s trying to lure with meat.”
I want to break something. Preferably Maxim’s face.
“Please tell me you didn’t keep the roses,” I say.
Her mouth does that little almost-smile. “I dropped them in the trash on my way out. I kept this so I could mail it back later. The last thing I need is my father accusing me of theft.”
She shuts the lid with a soft snap, sets the box back on the dresser like she can’t stand to hold it, and wraps her arms around herself.
I close the distance between us in two strides.
“And the worst part isn’t the necklace,” she says before I can touch her. “It’s what he said as he was leaving.”
My stomach sinks. “What did he say?”
She swallows. It looks like it hurts. “He said that my grandmother is coming.”
The room tilts.
Your grandmother.
The matriarch. The one whose blessing we actually need. The one Luka said could make or break this whole plan, but I didn't realize that she would be making a stopover. I assumed we’d get the blessing from afar. Keeping a polite distance between us.
“When?” I ask.
“Tomorrow.” She stares past me, unfocused. “She’s probably already on her way. He said he came ahead to ‘make this easier’ on me.” Her lips flatten. “Which is laughable.”
I reach for her, hands landing on her upper arms. She’s colder than she should be.
“Okay,” I say. “Okay. That’s… soon. But we knew this was coming eventually, right? This is what we planned for.”
“We planned for paperwork.” She looks up at me, and there’s something raw and scared in her eyes I don’t think I’ve seen before. “We planned for her to see that I was married and give a blessing. We did not plan for her to come and interrogate.”
“Luka said—”
“Luka hasn’t seen her in years,” she cuts in, not unkindly. “I grew up under her. You don’t understand, Scottie. She will see right through me. Through us.”
I want to argue. Want to tell her we’ll be fine, we’ve got photos and documents and a lease and a very real marriage certificate. I want to joke that your grandmother can’t be worse than my first NHL coach.
But she’s shaking a little.
And this is Katerina. She doesn’t shake.
So instead, I slide a hand up to cup the back of her neck, thumb brushing her jaw, trying to ground her.
“Hey,” I say softly. “We’ve done everything right. We’re living together. We have wedding photos and a video. You went to Montana to meet my parents. And we’re not exactly fakingthe physical chemistry either.” Understatement of the century. “We’re fine.”
Her eyes search mine like she wants to believe me but can’t quite get there.
“She’ll know,” she whispers. “She always knows. She’ll look at me and see that I’m… untouched. She’ll know I’m not… yours.”
