18. Kat

18

So much for home, sweet home.

After being away for so long, returning to my apartment feels surreal—especially considering everything that has happened to me since the last time I was inside it. Objectively speaking, not much time has passed since I was last here. Yet, it feels like a lifetime ago.

While sitting on my favorite spot on my cream-colored couch in my comfiest sweats in the middle of the day, I can't shake the feeling that something's seriously wrong. Even with a whole pint of chocolate chip ice cream in my lap and a generously filled wine glass, I cannot convince myself that everything feels right as I expected it would. Inwardly sighing, I force myself to face reality.

Nik and I are done. C'est fini. And somehow, I must forget him.

That's fine—more than fine. Everything is as it should be.

I may not have gotten my happy ending with Nik, but that's okay. I'll get it by myself, or maybe with someone else. It doesn't even matter that the mere idea leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Sure, it might be true that, after storming out of the penthouse, I thought I would feel better than I do right now. But that doesn't necessarily mean I've made a mistake. I just need some time to adjust to this change. That's all.

Of course, it's also completely normal to grieve what I have lost and what could've been. What I dreamed would come to be. What I now know will never be a part of my future.

It might take me a while to let go of all the memories of Nik, and that's okay. Like the night we first met at the gala—his dark eyes, hair and clothes. Or when he held me and comforted me through that horrid nightmare, tenderly whispering sweet nothings in Russian to me.

I can still recall the wonderful moment Nik and I shared during the aerobatic flight as if it had happened only yesterday. Especially when we became weightless, and he held my hands. And, of course—how could I ever forget?—the mesmerizing grin on his handsome face as we stepped out of the plane. Truth be told, I doubt I'll ever be able to forget that breathless kiss we shared on the airfield.

And how can anyone expect me to forget when Nik broke Vladmir's hand for me?

It's incredibly hard to accept that the man who's featured front and center in these wonderful memories is the same guy who quite literally locked me away in a tower. Yet, I can't escape this truth.

I shouldn't feel this miserable about never being in Nik's presence again. The mere thought of never feeling his skin against mine again or running my fingers through his silky, dark hair is unbearable. To think that I won't lose myself in the depths of his eyes again, or hear the rasp of his voice as he whispers something completely outrageous, for my ears only…

All of those titillating experiences are in the past now. And that's fine. It will have to be fine. After all, that was my choice—and frankly, that was the whole point. That's what matters to me, ultimately. I didn't get into my messy situation with Nik of my own volition, but I rectified that issue in the end. At last, I got what I wanted—I regained control of myself and my life. I chose to put an end to everything.

Everything is as it should be. All is well when it ends well. And I will repeat these words to myself over and over again as my mantra until I convince myself to believe them.

In the end, you have to always look out for number one. For me, that's always going to be me. That's why I had to kick Nik to the curb. As I've learned, he's bad for my health.

A soft, hesitant knock at my front door interrupts my pity party. Just in time, too, since I was getting dangerously close to no longer believing my own lies. And where would that leave me?

For a moment, I consider pretending I'm not home and ignoring my unannounced visitor. But I quickly dismiss the idea once I realize it's probably just A.J. checking in on me. My best friend deserves better from me, especially after everything she's done for me recently. I could also use the distraction of having some company around. She always has a knack for cheering me up, and I'm in desperate need of that right now.

I set the ice cream and the wine down on my cluttered coffee table and get up from the couch. After crossing the small distance to the front door, I unlock it, plastering a fake—but well-intentioned—smile on my face for A.J.'s benefit.

As it turns out, I shouldn't have bothered. Upon opening the door, my forced grin immediately falters as I come face-to-face with Dmitri. Perfectly calm, he gives me a half-smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, leaning against the wall next to my front door.

"Hiya, Kat," he says, breaking my astonished silence.

"Dmitri," I say with a gasp. "What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?"

He shoots me a funny look, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I thought it was obvious—I'm here to visit a friend. People still do that, right? As for your second question, come on, Kat. Please." He scoffs, rolling his eyes theatrically. "As if I didn't know your address all along. Who do you think went snooping around your life when Nik wanted information on the woman who stole his diamond? And, dare I say it, his heart. Yours truly, of course. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

I cross my arms, ignoring his question. "Didn't you hear? The Flame of Mir has been returned to its rightful owner. My debt to your boss has been paid. We have no business with each other, Dmitri. Not any longer."

"Right," he says, scowling. "Whatever you say, Kat. We'll go with that for the time being. Now, can I come in?"

"Why? Did Nik send you here? You're not here to kidnap me, are you, Dmitri? Because I swear, I'm not going down without a fight this time. No, sir."

His pale blues charmingly wrinkle at the corners as he laughs. "I'll keep that in mind. But no, I'm not here to kidnap you. Honestly, Kat, I'm a little insulted that you even have to ask. I thought we were friends. I feel like you should trust me more than that by now. For your information, Nik doesn't have the slightest idea I'm here. He'd probably have my head if he even suspected I came to see you."

I scoff. "Yeah, right. Nik lets you get away with virtually anything. I wouldn't be surprised if he let you get away with murder. Knowing the two of you, he probably has, actually."

"I can neither confirm nor deny your accusations."

I roll my eyes, but I step aside to allow him inside my apartment. "Fine, come in. But I won't go easy on you if you try anything funny. You've been warned."

Dmitri strolls inside my apartment with his hands raised in mock surrender. "I'll be on my best behavior. As usual."

He pauses inside my living room, glancing around the place with an indecipherable expression on his chiseled face. "So this is where the infamous Katherine Devereaux lives."

With a sigh, I drop my weight back on the couch. "Take a seat." I wave my hand in the general direction of every surface in the room. "Or don't. I don't really care."

Dmitri shoots me a funny look, but he sits on the other side of my couch, directly opposite of where I'm sitting.

"I like your place. It's cozy," he says.

"Yeah. Well, it's no luxuriously designed penthouse, but what can I say? It's home. At least it's mine. I bought it with the labors of my own dishonest work."

Dmitri chuckles. "Won't you offer me something to drink, Kat? Not much of a host, are you?"

With a shrug, I point him to the fridge in the kitchen, visible from where we're sitting down.

"Knock yourself out. Make yourself at home."

"Famous last words," he says under his breath before getting up to fetch his beverage.

A moment later, Dmitri returns, a beer in hand. "Kat…" he says with a sigh, sitting down again. "We need to talk."

"No, Dmitri. We really don't."

"I'm afraid we do, Kat."

"Dmitri—" I say through gritted teeth, infusing my tone with every bit of warning I can muster.

He laughs. "That won't work with me, Kat. It doesn't work even when Nik does it, and he's much scarier than you. Especially now. And yet, here I am, right? So, save your energy. We need to talk. There's no point in trying to avoid the unavoidable."

"What do you mean by ‘especially now'? What are you talking about?"

Dmitri's eyebrows almost reach his hairline. "Oh, right. You wouldn't know. Nik has been…particularly challenging since you left, which is why I'm here. It's time to come home, Kat. I'll have to insist."

I throw a pillow at him. "I am home, dumbass. And I warned you, Dmitri. I will not be kidnapped again. Ever. Are we clear?"

Dmitri sighs in exasperation. "Calm down, Kat. Nobody's kidnapping anybody. I'm merely here to persuade you to change your mind about this whole breaking up thing."

"Well, that's never going to happen. Ever. And no offense, Dmitri, but it's also none of your business. At all."

He rolls his eyes. "Come on. We've been over this so many times. It's totally my business. I guess we can agree to disagree on this, but I'm not leaving until you stop acting like an idiot. You're not getting rid of me until you promise to come back and give Nik another chance."

"A chance to do what? Lock me away again, throwing the key away this time?"

"That's a little dramatic, don't you think, Kat? Even for you."

"No, Dmitri. I don't think I'm being too dramatic. Before you get to decide what's an appropriate response to being stripped of your freedom, why don't we lock you away against your will first? Just to give you a little taste of what Nik put me through that day."

"Look, I'm not saying you should pretend nothing happened. I happen to agree with you—Nik fucked up big time. Hell, I bet you wouldn't get an argument from him on that one. Trust me when I tell you he's painfully aware of how badly he fucked up. If you don't believe me, check it out yourself."

I scoff. "Nice try. But I think I'll pass."

"My point is that no one expects you to forget what he did. I promise you he hasn't forgotten it and probably never will. But you can't just give up on people when they disappoint you or when they fuck up. Not if you know that there's something special there. Something unique, wonderful, and rare."

I sigh as my eyes tear up. I am so not strong enough to deal with this right now. "Dmitri, it's not as simple as you make it sound."

"But it is. You love him, and he loves you. That's all that matters. Everything else is just details. You can't lose sight of what's truly important. So let me take you home, Kat. Put Nik through the wringer. Make him work for it. But give him a chance to grovel. Allow him to make things right again, to make it up to you."

"Did he say that?" I ask breathlessly.

Dmitri looks at me, puzzled. "Did he say what?"

"That he loves me. Did Nik actually tell you that?"

Dmitri's expression softens. "He didn't have to, Kat. I know him. I know his heart. And deep down, you know it as well."

So Nik didn't say it.

"Well, I thought I did. I really did. But I was wrong, Dmitri."

"No, you weren't. You just think you were because you're afraid and confused, and I don't blame you. But I think I know you well enough by now to be sure that you are not someone who shies away from what scares you—not when it's something that you truly want."

I shrug, not meeting his too-perceptive eyes. "Well, maybe I don't want it, then."

"I don't believe that for a second. I don't think you do, either."

"You don't understand, Dmitri. Nik will never be able to trust me. You and I can argue until the heat death of the universe about who is to blame for that, but it will still be true. And if he can't trust me, then he will cling to me as hard as he can, always fearing and expecting the worst from me. He'll oppress me and crush me, and I'll die of misery, desperately trying to make him give me enough room to breathe. That's no way to live, Dmitri. No relationship can work under these circumstances."

"So you guys have problems. So what? Who doesn't? It doesn't mean that you get to give up on each other. You two are human, and you've made mistakes. Again, so fucking what? Get back on the horse and try again. The way I see it, the only thing that separates successful relationships from unsuccessful ones is whether people have given up on it or not."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. And possibly the most na?ve one, too."

"I don't know about that," he says. "Maybe I'm speaking from personal experience."

"Dmitri…" I say, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, Kat," he interrupts me, uninterested in allowing the conversation shift to his own unfortunate love life, "Nik made a mistake. But you haven't been perfect, either. No offense. You guys have something special going on. Sure, in a moment of intense frustration, Nik decided it was a good idea to place you in captivity instead of talking it out with you. But he's the fucking boss of the bratva, Kat. One with control and trust issues, too. What did you expect? What did you think would happen once he finally lost his temper with you? It's bound to happen in any relationship. It's just a matter of time. If you ask me, what he did wasn't that bad, all things considered. It could've certainly been much worse—just think about all the other things he could've done instead."

I scoff, glaring at Dmitri. "I can't believe you just said that to me. Is any of this crap supposed to make me change my mind?"

"Come on, Kat, you know I'm making a good point here."

Mercifully, my phone rings, rattling on the coffee table. A welcome interruption to whatever nonsense Dmitri is about to say next.

"Hang on," I say. "It's my friend. I have to get this."

Dmitri nods, running his hands through his dark blond hair, and I get up, bringing the now-melted ice cream back to the freezer as I answer the call.

"Hey, A.J.," I say in greeting. "What's up?"

"What's up?" she says, her gleeful voice brimming with excitement. "I'll tell you what's up. I fucking did it, Kat."

I almost drop the ice cream container on the kitchen floor. Somehow, I manage to avoid disaster, setting it down on the counter instead.

The stronzo. She did it. We're free. At last.

"No way," I say, gasping.

A.J. scoffs. "Honey, please. It was only a matter of time. You know I'm that bitch. True, sometimes I'm the bitch that gets our asses in some serious trouble of the mafia variety. But this time, I'm the bitch who cleans up her messes. Once and for all."

"A.J.—" I say, cutting her off. "I get it. Trust me, I've known for a while now that you are one bad motherfucker. Or bitch. But tell me—is it done? How did you pull it off? What do you need me to do?"

"We'll get to that in a minute, babe. All you need to know right now is that I finally have in my hands the paperwork Camilla told me about on the day your Russian fling's henchmen kidnapped you. And it's juicy, Kat. We were right—the stronzo does have a secret love child. When will men learn not to think with the wrong head? You'd think that a man who came from nothing would know better than to cheat on his wife, who's the only reason he became boss in the first place. But hey, he fucked around, and he's about to find out. I love that for us, Kat. I really do."

"Wow," I say, my heart racing. "I can't believe this is finally happening. I can't believe this isn't a dream. It's about fucking time. Our luck had to turn at some point, right? Where are you, A.J.? I think you should come over right now. Should we even be discussing this over the phone?"

"I'm fine," she says, so excited she's almost shouting over the phone. "You'll see me soon enough, Kitty Kat. Oh, I almost forgot to tell you—you'll get a kick out of this. The stronzo's secret child? It turns out he's half-Russian! Isn't that a riot? His name is Dmitri Ivashkov. I got boatloads of documents tying him to the stronzo. Some go back twenty-something years."

With a gasp, I almost drop my phone. My spine straightens as I process what A.J. just told me. I touch the back of my neck as it grows uncomfortably warm.

I can't believe it… Dmitri, the stronzo's bastard son?

Unable to help myself, I turn around nonchalantly, desperately needing to look at Dmitri. Startled, I realize he's standing right behind me, merely a few inches away. At some point, while I was immersed in A.J.'s news, he must've closed the distance between us as quietly as a cat.

Dmitri is so tall I need to lean my head back to see his face instead of being at eye level with his chest. I do so as A.J. happily—and much too loudly—carries on over the phone. As soon as I see his face, I gasp again, loudly.

Every hair on my skin stands up as my body instinctively recognizes the imminent danger. One glance at Dmitri's pale blue eyes—the same shade as the stronzo's, I finally notice—and I know he's heard every single word my friend just told me.

An unfamiliar, dark look comes over Dmitri's finely sculpted face as he reaches for me.