“Is she all right?” I can hear the note of worry in Sasha’s voice.
“She’s fine. Her normal surly self.”
“Hey,” I huff. “I heard that.”
“You should have sent Rush in with the phone. You’re supposed to be giving me space.”
My brows shoot up at that. Ryker is supposed to be giving Sasha space. “It’s been a few days,” I speak into the line. “How did you manage to fuck it up that badly in such a short amount of time?”
“Katarina,” he growls. “Don’t?—”
“Don’t talk to my sister like that,” Sasha cuts him off, her voice rising.
All I can do is stare at the wall, my mouth open. Because my sweet and shy sister has found her voice. And that voice yells at her husband.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he says in that conciliatory voice again. And it hits me. Sasha’s got him wrapped around her finger.
My baby sister has tamed a Smith.
She always was adorable and still is.
“Katarina?” her worried voice comes through the phone. “Tell me you’re all right!”
“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. What happened yesterday? Are you hurt?”
She sighs. “I’m mostly fine. Most of the harm, I did to myself.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s a long and complicated story, and one I will share with you another day over a bottle of vodka and a box of tissues. But there is something from yesterday that you really need to know.”
“What?” I say, holding my breath…
“Sver…he…” Sasha pauses.
“Did he touch you? Try to kill you?” I can hear my voice climbing again. I came here to protect her, but if Sver attacked her in Las Vegas then I failed even at that.
“No, he didn’t try to hurt me. In fact…” she pauses again, the phone crackling. “He says that he’s our real father.”
I blink down at the phone, the words barely making sense. “What?”
“He says that he had an affair with our mother and that Ivan used our safety to manipulate him into becoming his hitman.”
I pull the phone from my ear and stare at the screen long enough that Sasha calls out, “Katarina?”
“I…I’m…I just…Ivan isn’t our father?” I swear the world slides beneath my feet.
“No, which, given a day to think about it, really makes sense.” Sasha sighs. “Are you all right, Katarina? I’ve been so worried about you.”
“Me?” I stare at the phone. “I’ve been worried about you. I’m sorry I left you with him, I…”
“Ryker? Don’t worry about that. He’s coming along nicely.”
My lips curl up into a smile. “Give him hell, little sister.”
“Where are you?”
“England. With Winston Smith. Who has been a great help.”
