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Vadim sighs wearily at his stubborn employee. “Competition is part of the business, Kate. You know that as well as I do. It’s just something we have to deal with. All I ask is that Skylight keep their distance and we do the same, period. And to that end, we’ve developed new strategies and beefed up security. We’re ready. I’m not interested in using questionable methods to bring them down. It will only prove them right and tarnish our image. King Productions is better than that.”

“Numbers matter more than image, as far as I’m concerned. And morality is a nice concept, but it’s not what’s going to take us to the top.”

“Don’t worry,” Vadim replies defensively, “I’ve made it this far by staying honest and doing things the right way.”

“Exactly, but I wonder if…”

It’s rare to see Kate Monroe struggle to find the right words.

“Go ahead, don’t stop now, Kate.”

I watch the showdown, not even attempting to intervene. It would be pointless.

“To be completely honest, I feel like you don’t have the same drive, the same passion as before, Vadim. You’re letting your personal life distract you, and you’re not giving this company everything you’ve got. I left Fox because King Productions had a great deal of potential. But if this company doesn’t grow fast enough—or worse, if it goes under—it’ll be without me.”

“I can assure you of one thing, Kate,” Vadim shoots back. “With or without you, King Productions won’t go under. The door is open. Nothing is holding you back. Especially not me.” He stares at her intently.

I still don’t know what I’m doing here, so I do my absolute best not to make the slightest sound or movement.

Then Kate finally leaves the room, striding confidently, head held high.

I think the showdown is over.

***

That evening, Vadim comes over to my place with a challenge: “Are you game to forget Kate and Monkov, and everything that worries us, haunts us, and hurts us for the next forty-eight hours?”

“I’m in!” I accept without hesitation, so happy to see him finally let go.

His investigation into his parents’ murder has kept him away from me lately, and his problems at the office have left him troubled. Not to mention Felix, who seems to be everywhere at once—especially where we’d rather he wasn’t.

For a whole evening, I have Vadim all to myself. We allow ourselves a sweet interlude. He cooks risotto. I choose a movie—The Nightmare Before Christmas—then I light scented candles and place them all around my bathtub, and we both sink into the steaming water. We linger there until nothing else exists.

50

Alma

December 24. I finally wake up around ten o’clock. It’s been a very long time since I slept this well. I discover, to my disappointment, that Vadim is no longer lying beside me. My sleepy eyes land on the little note he left on his still-wrinkled pillow:

Merry Christmas, Koala. Waiting for ours… Vadim

It’s been so long since he called me that.

On the back of the little note, he drew a koala. Or at least, he tried.

I let myself fall back onto my pillow and squeal like a little girl, while my stupid heart races just like it did when I was eighteen.

***

Christmas Eve is a small gathering at the Lancasters’, same as every year. My grandparents, aunts, and uncles don’t like to leave London, while my cousins are scattered far and wide. For almost a decade now, it’s been just the five of us. This year, however, in a break from tradition, Niels will be joining us. I’m both dreading it and excited about it, in equal measure. As for Vadim, he had already made plans months ago to attend a charity dinner, where he intends to make a generous donation. He decided to take Felix along, on one condition: he has to wear a suit.

I promised my mother I would come over as early as possible to help her out. And that I’d force my sister to come with me. The problem is, I have no idea where she is. The sofa bed hasn’t been pulled out, so I guess she didn’t sleep here. All I know is that she was supposed to get back between two and six in the morning, depending on how her “girls’ night” turned out. One phone call later, I learn that she is safe and sound… and on her way.

When I come out of the bathroom, ready to leave, my sister is still wearing yesterday’s dress, recovering from her hangover by staring blankly into space. She drags herself into the shower, then joins me in the living room about half an hour later.

“So, you signed me up for forced labor?” she groans, collapsing onto the couch.

“Mom needs help.”