Page 20 of Then We Shatter

His assurances are wasted. I can handle Sasha. It’s the thought of her husband, Grigor that makes my skin crawl.

The schooling Vasili referred to was the time we spent at the training camp beneath the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s where Sasha met her future husband. She had started her training a few weeks before I arrived with my surviving sestras, Kira and Yana. Grigor might have risen through the ranks in recent years, but back then he was our camp commander.

“Emily has your wedding dress fitting scheduled, and there are beauticians at your disposal,” Eric continues. He glances down at my hands and half-chewed fingernails. It’s a habit I thought I’d conquered. “This is your home now, Katarina, and I want you to have everything you need.”

“What I need is a meeting to finalize the deal,” Vasili interrupts.

“Business first, of course,” Eric replies, his tone hardening a touch. “Would ten o’clock tomorrow morning be acceptable?”

“Make it eight,” Vasili says in a crude attempt at dominance. “We can have a breakfast meeting.”

“Whatever you prefer, my good friend. Breakfast it is,” Eric agrees. “I’ll send one of my men to pick you up, but for now, have a good evening and I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

The second Eric turns to leave, Emily puts her foot down to whisk us away before my uncle can have the last word. I’d say Eric won that pissing contest.

As introductions go, that wasn’t awful, which leads me to two possible conclusions. Either the rumors about Eric Peterson have been planted by his enemies and are undeserved, or his shiny exterior has been engineered to distract from the ugliness beneath his skin. I should care, but good or bad, Eric isn’t Shorty.

Chapter 8

Killian

Before

Ayoung woman in a turquoise tunic scurries past, eyes cast down. I take up half the width in the narrow corridor, but I’m being treated like I’m invisible, which means everything is going to plan. As of four days ago, I’m the new owner of this establishment, or at least I own the shell company that owns the shell company of the… well, you get the picture.

Lorcan made it happen, but I’m very much on my own in Chicago. A bigger presence would risk being discovered and so far, even the Griffins don’t know I’m in town. I want it to stay that way.

Another woman appears. Shelley may only be in her early thirties but she’s experienced more from life than a woman twice her age. That’s what happens when you work for the McConkeys.

“Suits you,” I tell her, indicating her tunic that matches the rest of the staff.

She does a little twirl. “I always wanted to be a beautician.”

Her blond hair extensions are normally tugged and teased into a style that gives her a few more inches in height. High heels would add a couple more, but with flat pumps and her shiny hair smoothed back into a slick ponytail, she’s ridiculously tiny. Never knew that.

It makes me wonder how much I’d tower over Katarina if she weren’t in heels. Today could be the day I find out.

“She’s due in fifteen,” Shelley says as I follow her back up the corridor. “She’s booked in for a massage followed by a hair appointment. The manager says her last bodyguards were comfortable with her being seen privately, but these new ones are sticking to her like glue.”

I don’t like the idea of Vasili’s grip tightening around his niece. It doesn’t bode well. “You need to find a way to separate them, Shell.”

“Already on the case.” She pushes open a door and we squeeze into a supply closet. “Ta da!”

She’s gesturing to a door at the other end of the room. The frame is unpainted and the wall around it looks like someone recently took a sledgehammer to it.

When I look unimpressed, Shelley tuts. “That door wasn’t there two days ago and it leads to a therapy room. There’s shelving built into the other side of the door so it’ll be invisible to Katarina’s bodyguards. They’ll want to check the room’s clear before they leave me alone with her. Assuming they do leave.”

“No way are they watching her strip for a massage,” I mutter. I’ll gouge their fucking eyes out if they try. “If you can push Katarina’s buttons and get her to kick off at them, they won’t argue with her for long.”

“She sounds like my kind of woman,” Shelley says, a smile tugging at her pink glossed lips. “But if we do get her alone, approach her with caution, Killian. You showing up is going to be a shock, and for all our sakes, I hope she’s not a screamer.” She rolls her eyes when she sees me smirk. “Keep that noise down too. The door to the corridor is bulletproof and new locks should slow a forced entry, but the room isn’t soundproof.”

“I could always find something to gag her with.”

She looks down at my crotch. “Just don’t suffocate the poor girl,” she says. “And whatever you have planned, have your business concluded within thirty minutes.”

“Forty-five.” I tip my head to the side. “I like to be thorough.”

“Not a minute more, Killian. I mean it.”