I've survived knife wounds that hurt less than this cold indifference from the woman who once couldn't keep her hands off me.
I slide into the pew beside her. A bold move. Disruptive. Inappropriate. Exactly my style.
Katerina stiffens, her shoulder angling away from mine.
Her brother glares daggers, but I meet his eyes with the steady confidence of a man who's built an empire from nothing. He looks away first.
The priest's Latin incantations wash over us, but I don’t hear them.
All I can take in now is Katerina.
Her perfume hasn't changed, a sweetness mixed with a hint of exotic.
"You shouldn't be here," she whispers, eyes fixed forward on my father's casket.
"Next to you, or at the funeral?"
"Both."
I lean slightly closer, not touching her but close enough that she can feel my warmth. "Tough shit, Kat. I'm not going anywhere."
Her laced fingers tighten their clasp, knuckles whitening. The old nickname, Kat, lands like a grenade between us.
Alessandro turns from the front row, his expression promising retribution for my disruption.
Let him try.
I've faced worse threats than my brother's disapproval.
"Your father deserves respect," Katerina murmurs. "This isn't about us."
"There's still an us to discuss? Interesting."
She turns just enough for me to catch the flash of blue fire in her eyes. "There is nothing to discuss."
But her pulse jumps at her throat, betraying her. Seven years apart, and I can still read her body like a book written just for me.
The priest calls for prayer.
Everyone bows their heads, but I keep my eyes on Katerina's profile.
She clearly didn’t send the letter.
But that doesn’t stop me from thinking that maybe this trip home will afford me the chance to reclaim what I lost.
The service ends. Mourners rise in a synchronized wave, murmuring condolences as they shuffle toward the exit.
Katerina stands, her brother already positioning himself protectively at her side.
She's planning her escape. Not happening.
I step into her path, blocking the narrow aisle with my frame. People flow around us.
"Move, Luca." Her voice is steel wrapped in silk.
"Not until you talk to me."
Her brother steps forward. "This isn't the place?—"
