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CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
After ice cream, Leo and I walked back to his place. “Sorry,” he apologized, as he led me into his apartment. “I need to grab something for a client.”
“Do you normally keep files in your house?” I asked.
“When said client isn’t being given to me by the firm…” He trailed off, and I immediately knew what he wasn’t saying. This was Bratva business.
“It’ll only take a minute,” he told me. “Feel free to make yourself at home. I’ve got to unlock my safe.”
I didn’t say anything as he walked off. Instead, I took the limited opportunity to explore. Leo’s apartment was exactly what I would have expected from him, which was marginally disappointing.
The space was large with an amazing view, and every inch was decorated in expensive brown leather. The carpet underfoot was thick and a light brown, and the furniture was a dark oak.
“Someone needs to learn about light colors,” I muttered under my breath as I walked further into the space. There was a small table where I noticed a pile of mail.
I leaned over slightly looking to see if Leo was coming down the hallways before I started snooping through his mail. When I realized that he wasn’t, I grabbed the stack and began leafing through it.
“Junk. Boring. Junk.” Most of the envelopes appeared to be advents or bills, neither of which was of any particular interest.
“What do we have here?” I muttered as I came across a postcard.
On the surface it appeared to be insignificant, but there was something about it that gave me pause.
“See you soon!” The handwriting was bubbly and feminine, and as I looked at it, something felt off.
The sound of a door creaking open caused me to jump, and before I could stop myself, I shoved the card into my pocket.
“Everything okay?” I asked Leo, as he walked into the room.
I was trying my best to seem as though everything was normal, but I felt my heart beating against my chest, and the postcard felt heavy in my pocket.
“Are you alright?”
“Sure,” I said. “This place could use a makeover. It’s dark as hell.”
Leo laughed. “I’m sure that my decorator will be happy to hear that.”
It seemed that Leo did not suspect anything. “You should get your money back and invest in some white pillows or something.”
Leo said nothing, but there was a smile on his face. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go and buy that vase.”
* * *
I tapped the postcard on my hand as I looked at the handwriting. It was cute. There was no other word for it, and though there was nothing to say who sent it, I knew that it had come from a woman.
“Why are we here?” Natasha asked. “You aren’t thinking of trying to transfer, are you? Because I think that that might actually make your father’s head explode, and that is not even accounting for what Leo would feel. Considering how many times I have seen him this week, I get the sense he would not appreciate you being here in Boston.”
I sighed and turned to Natasha. “I’m not looking to transfer,” I said. “And I would appreciate it if you did not say anything about this little trip to my father or Leo, or really anyone.”
I didn’t know why I had brought Natasha. Maybe because Natasha had a way of keeping me sane, and I knew that I needed that.
But she was going to ask questions, especially now that I told her that this trip was a secret.
“Kat…” There was a warning in Natasha’s voice, and I cringed. “Your father is going to know. The driver is going to tell him.”
“Not if I hired a driver who is not part of the Bratva.”
“Katarina!” Natasha was practically screeching as she spoke. “Are you telling me that we are out here without security?”
