An offer? If it comes with her getting lost and leaving Katerina alone for good, I’m open to it.
“What kind of offer?” I ask.
“The kind of offer that sets you and your family up for life. I’m willing to offer you five times the value of your current five-year NHL contract,” she says. “Upfront. Wired to your account today. In exchange, you will file for divorce and walk away quietly.”
My breath leaves me in a harsh exhale.
My five-year contract guarantees seven million. Five times that paid in full is insane. Insane enough to buy a house for each of my sisters, pay off my parents’ debts, and hire every specialist my dad could ever need for the rest of his life.
She watches me absorb it, waiting for greed, or hesitation… or fear.
But all I feel is anger.
“You could offer me twenty times and I’d still say no. I’m not divorcing your granddaughter. Not for anything. You came to the wrong guy. If she decides to walk away someday, that’s her choice, not yours. But I won’t leave her. Not without a fight.”
Her brows lift just slightly, but it’s the first sign I’ve actually surprised her.
“That is… a very inconvenient answer. If I offer her the same and she decides to divorce you first, I won’t offer this again. Think long and hard about this and what your family could do with that money,” she says, attempting to try again.
“I make enough to take care of my family. I’m in love with Katerina, and I won’t be the one to end our marriage. Tell her father. Tell Maxim. Tell whoever needs to hear it. I said “I do” until death do us part, and I meant it.”
I reach for the doorknob.
Her voice stops me.
“Mr. Easton.”
I turn back.
There’s something new in her expression, something thoughtful, almost unreadable.
“For your sake,” she says softly, “I hope Katerina feels the same.”
I nod once and step out of the limousine. The door shuts behind me without a sound, the car pulling away as if it had never been there.
And I stand in the lobby, heart hammering, knowing one thing with absolute certainty:
I’d burn the world down before I take a single step away from Katerina.
Now I just have to walk upstairs, not scare her with any of that… and let her think tonight is normal. The last thing she needs on top of everything else is knowing that her own grandmother tried to bribe me. First Maxim and the necklace, now this.
I’m halfway through dropping my keys in the bowl when something stops me mid-motion.
Her voice is coming from the kitchen. It’s soft and almost nervous.
“Scottie?”
I follow the sound, and then I nearly swallow my tongue.
The table is set with actual place settings, candles she definitely found in some forgotten drawer that Juliet must have left behind, a bottle of wine breathing like she knows what she’sdoing. And in the middle of all of it is Katerina… hair pinned up, cheeks pink, wearing an apron that looks like it’s been through battle, with what looks like spaghetti sauce on her cheek.
“You cooked?” I ask, stunned.
She swallows. “Your mother walked me through it on video chat.”
My eyebrow arch, I’m intrigued. “My mom helped you?”
“I wanted to do something romantic,” she says softly, twisting her fingers together. “For you. For once.”
