“They said she had her eye on it,” I say. “And that Dmitri would get it for her.”
Yaromir’s gaze moves across the room. To Katya. To Dmitri beside her.
Dmitri is still glaring at us, but when the auctioneer begins listing the details of the necklace, his attention shifts toward the platform. Katya leans toward him and says something. Dmitri’s jaw tightens, then he gives a small nod.
Yaromir sees it. So do I.
My stomach hardens.
Yaromir’s hand settles more firmly at my waist. “What do you want?” he asks.
“I told you. I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I look up at him. The room is full of people, but his attention makes it feel smaller. Private. Dangerous.
I glance at the necklace again. Then at Katya.
She’s still watching the auction platform, but I know she’s aware of me. A woman always knows when the woman she betrayed is standing close enough to witness whether she wins.
“I don’t want her to have it,” I say.
Yaromir’s mouth barely moves. Not a smile. Something colder. “Then she won’t.”
The auctioneer lifts his gavel. “We will begin the bidding at one hundred thousand.”
A paddle rises immediately near the front. Then another.
Dmitri waits a moment, like he wants to appear casual. Then he raises his paddle.
Katya’s face softens with satisfaction. I hate how familiar that expression is.
Yaromir doesn’t move. For one panicked second, I think he’s going to let it happen. Then he lifts his own paddle without looking away from me.
“Two hundred thousand,” the auctioneer calls.
A ripple moves through the room.
Dmitri turns.
His eyes find Yaromir. Then me.
And for the first time all night, I smile at him.
22
ANYA
Dmitri sees me smile.
That’s when he raises his paddle again.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand,” the auctioneer calls.
A low murmur moves through the room.
Katya’s expression shifts, satisfaction returning. She keeps her eyes on the necklace, but I see the small lift of her mouth. She thinks this is already decided.
