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The remaining ten percent are either navy blue or dark gray, but I’ve rarely seen him wear those.
He has drawers upon drawers of luxurious and special edition watches. Ten of the same set of black-framed glasses. Some sunglasses that he almost never wears. Italian shoes and leather belts, but that’s about it.
There are no personal items or anything that helps with my search.
I’m about to put a bag back on the top drawer, when a picture falls. I grab the frame and pause.
There’s no picture inside, just…a handkerchief with his first name embroidered in the corner.
My fingers tighten around the frame, and an alien feeling drops to the base of my stomach. Kirill is anything but a sentimental person. He’s methodical, practical, and manipulative to a fault.
Actually, he uses people’s emotions against them, so the fact that he kept a handkerchief, framed it even, goes against everything I know of him. This was obviously done by a girl. But who? An ex-lover?
“Sasha! Are you in here?”
Karina’s sudden voice nearly causes me to drop the handkerchief. I hastily put the frame back exactly where I found it and step out of the closet.
Karina stands in the middle of the room, wearing an ample tulle dress, its black color contrasting against her skin.
Her face has some makeup on it, and she’s let her shiny blonde hair fall to the middle of her back. She’s crossing her arms and tapping her Louboutin heels on the floor. “Where were you? I was calling you for the past ten minutes.”
“Oh, sorry.” I grab my phone from the nightstand. “I left it here.”
“Whatever. Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To have breakfast in my room, of course.”
“I already had breakfast.”
“Then you can just accompany me. What’s so hard about that?”
“I’d love to, but I have work to do.” Or, more accurately, I have to try to find Kirill. While we do stay overnight at the club sometimes, I’m usually there, so I know he’s safe.
Now, I’m not sure. Even with Viktor and Yuri by his side.
Is it weird that I’m starting to genuinely care about his safety? But I’m only doing this because I can’t get information if he’s dead, considering he’s the only one who has access to what his father left behind.
…Right?
“Liar, liar. I know you have the day off and don’t have to work until this evening.”
“Well…”
“Nope, not hearing it. You’re coming with me.”
She all but drags me and tells me to carry the breakfast tray, too, because it’s apparently better than the one she got.
Her room is dark and gloomy, as usual. She has the candles lit and some dim lights on, though.
“It’s breakfast, Miss. We should maybe have it on the balcony.”
“I told you not to call me Miss. My name is Karina.” She blushes. “Or Kara if you want. And nope, there’s no way in hell we’re going outside.”
“The balcony is still attached to your room. It’s not exactly outside.”
“Still no. Nope. I’m not hearing you.”
