Finally, my mother jerks her chin toward the hall. “This way. Hurry.”
Kirill snags my wrist. I follow as he paces after her, intent on leaving behind the storm of screaming alarms and cold water.
Mom glides forward like she was born to rule over the chaos.
The three of us cut down back corridors I barely remember. All the while, water rushes over marble and slaps against walls, saturating everything. In the distance, the ballroom bustles with confusion. The socialites of Chicago shriek as their perfect evening drowns.
None of that matters, though, compared to the anchoring grip of Kirill’s hand around my wrist and his thumb pressed to my pulse.
I nearly slip on wet stone as we descend a staircase, but Kirill catches me, holding me upright.
Figures he’d be right at home in the water.
Liquid pools everywhere, transforming the steps into a cascading waterfall. Like a gentleman, he steadies me while we wade down them.
The act shocks me. But only a little.
The universe provides exactly what it means to.
I shake the little gift box clutched in my hand. “Mom, this was the only thing inside the safe. Do you know what it is?”
She glances at the object I’m holding. Even soaked, the red bow remains flawless. “I have no idea. I never opened the safe. Didn’t have the combination.” She shoves through a door and scans the hallway. “I only kept it for you because it was your father’s.”
Kirill’s voice needles in. “Who else had access to that room?”
My mother braces herself against the wall. “No one.” She pauses for just a blink too long.
Always the shark, Kirill zeroes in. “Ever?”
“There was a security specialist a few months back.”
Kirill’s fingers flex on my wrist. “Security specialist?”
“My friend Anastasia said they’d had a breach, which made me nervous. So I asked for her consultant’s name.” She wipes water from her eyes. “We hired him too. He went through the whole house. Every room.”
His jaw clenches. “He was alone in there?”
She holds his gaze, unflinching. “Alone everywhere. For hours.” Reaching a blank wall, my mother presses her palm to a hidden panel that slides open to reveal a service elevator. “Go. Now.”
We pile inside.
The doors start to close, but she jams them open and yanks me into a hug. Perfume and wet silk and chemical burn from the fire suppressant invade my nose in a weird blend of comfort and disaster.
She leans in to whisper in my ear. “Are you sure, darling?” Her eyes cut to Kirill, who remains silent at my back.
I know what that means.
Not just,Is he safe?
But also, Are you really choosing him?
I press my cheek to her, seeking the warmth there. “Never been surer. Never felt more alive.”
She pulls back to read my face. After nine years of distance, she’s staring at me like she finally sees me.
Then she smiles—genuine and bright—and squeezes my hand. “You always were your father’s daughter.”
I fight to speak through the sudden burst of joy in my chest. “I’m my mother’s daughter too.”
