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KATYA
First thing the next day, I knocked on Evie’s door. Olga had put her in a room in the west wing, as far away from Kristoff as possible.
She hadn’t come down for dinner last night, and I’d figured she needed some alone time and space after what she must have gone through. It couldn’t have been easy for her to call me to pick her up. It had been a huge leap of faith on her part. Though it was more of an act of desperation, of course.
She opened the door, clutching her bathrobe as if it were a lifeline. Clearly, she’d just come out of the shower.
“Can I come in?” I asked, and immediately walked in the moment she let me.
I paced up and down the room, thinking of how I would broach the subject of who she was to Kristoff.
She cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you for—”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I cut her off, feeling guilty for not being totally upfront with her before now.
She frowned, and I gestured for her to sit. When she perched on the edge of the bed, I dropped onto a chair.
“I really don’t know how to begin,” I started. “So I’m just going to be honest with you. I’m not just some good Samaritan who gave you my number. I offered you my help because you mean something to someone I love deeply.”
Her eyes turned from anxious to surprised.
“You’re my sister-in-law,” I blurted. Then I basically told her the entire story, except for the part about the senator having Kristoff’s mother killed, and Kristoff’s subsequent desire for vengeance.
Evie’s eyes grew wider with every sentence. “I’m going to need a minute,” she said, her voice strained.
“I can imagine. Please take your time. I’m going out, but will be home in a few hours if you have any questions.”
I made myself scarce, feeling bad for dropping this bomb on her and then leaving, but I believed she needed some alone time to process everything I had just told her.
I killed the engine of my Veyron after arriving at the coffee house where I would meet Mia.
Mia was already there, sitting with a huge pumpkin spice latte before her. She looked as gorgeous as ever with her dark, curly hair, and deep-purple dress which clung to her every curve.
“I need one of those,” I said, sitting across from her.
She grinned, clutching her latte as if to keep it from me. “No way, this precious cup of delicious calories is all mine.”
I smiled back, though it felt strained.
“What´s up with you?” Mia asked. “I know that look.”
I leaned back into the chair. “I’m not sure where to start.”
Mia waved at a waiter. “I do. With a good drink, just like everything else.” When a guy came over to take our order she pointed at her mug. “The same one for my girl here, and two of those donuts filled with gooey goodness.”
The guy seemed mesmerized by her for a second. I stifled a smile. It was the affect Mia always had on men.
He finally pulled himself together. “We have chocolate mocha, strawberry, and vanilla filling.”
“We don’t do vanilla, do we, Katya?”
“Of course we don’t,” I agreed, trying to keep my face straight.
“That would be so boring. And I’d rather be dead than boring.” She tapped a nail on her latte. “What would you recommend?”
The guy blinked, guiltily looking away from Mia’s impressive rack. “Chocolate mocha. Definitely chocolate mocha.”
Mia awarded him with a big smile. “Chocolate it is, then.”
