“We’ll see.”
She turns toward the door. Her bodyguards immediately fall into step behind her.
And then she is gone.
Leaving me sitting in a gilded tearoom, heart pounding, hands shaking…
And more terrified than ever of losing the life I finally want.
Chapter Twenty-Three
SCOTTIE
By the time I get back to the penthouse, my head is pounding and the call from my mom is replaying in my head over and over again.
I’m wiping water off my jacket from the wet October that Seattle brought in before I walk into The Commons when a long, sleek black limousine glides to a stop at the curb.
At first, I didn't think anything of it. Rich people are always dropping in and out of this building.
But then the back window lowers.
And I see her.
A woman who looks like an older version of Katerina but with grey hair and a steeling look in her eyes.
Impeccably dressed. Perfect posture. Eyes sharp enough to cut through steel.
“Mr. Easton,” she says in flawless English with a hint of old-world Russian polish. “A word.”
It’s not a question; it’s a summons.
Against every instinct screaming this is a bad idea, I step toward the car. The back door clicks open, an invitation that I’m too curious to pass up, though in reality it could be a trap and they could kidnap me and dump my body in Puget Sound. If this is my only chance to make her grandmother see that Katerina and I should get to be together… I’ll take the risk.
I slide into the leather seat beside her. There’s an older bodyguard in the front row, another outside.
This is a power move. I know it, and she knows it, but what I want to know is, what does she want?
She studies me as if I’m a specimen on a slide.
“You know who I am and why I am here?” she asks.
“I have an idea, yes. This is about my wife,” I say back.
Her eyebrow lifts when I call Kat my wife. Maybe she wasn’t expecting me to make the claim, but here I am.
“Katerina is important to our family,” she begins. “Very important. Her future, and the alliances she forms through marriage, reflect on generations of legacy.”
I keep my jaw tight. “With all due respect, ma’am, she’s not an alliance. She’s a person.”
She tilts her head. “A person who belongs to a powerful family with expectations.”
My pulse kicks harder when she uses the word ‘expectations’ as if Katerina has any responsibility to someone else's expectations other than her own.
“Say what you came here to say,” I tell her.
Her lips curve as if likes a little fight, which is just as well since I have no plans to kiss her ass.
“I’m here to make you an offer.”
