Chapter 12
Olek
Dinner was chaotic.
Over twenty people crammed around my dining table, family, friends, associates were all talking over each other in a mix of Russian and English. Plates passed. Vodka flowed. Laughter echoed off the high ceilings.
It should have felt good. This was what I'd planned, a proper Christmas celebration with people I trusted. Instead, I couldn't focus on anything except Katrina moving around the edges of the room, refilling glasses and clearing plates. She hadn't looked at me once.
Not when she served my plate. Not when she leaned past me to refill my cousin's wine. Not even when Dmitri made a joke that had everyone roaring with laughter. It was driving me insane.
"Olek, are you listening?" Dmitri snapped his fingers in front of my face.
"What?"
"I asked if you're coming to the club tomorrow night. Cori's opening a new place in the Strip District."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Cori leaned forward. "Since when do you maybe anything? You're always the first one there."
"I've been busy."
"With what?" Irina asked innocently. "Or should I say, with whom?"
The table erupted in knowing laughter.
"Leave him alone," Adam said, grinning. "Can't you see he's distracted? Our Olek is finally human."
"I'm not distracted."
“Then you should be.” Cori smirked. “Find you somebody who makes you curious like I have.”
“And who is that?” Dmitri asked him. I could feel the instant tension between the two of them.
"You've been staring at your head maid for the past twenty minutes," Dmitri said flatly. "Either fire her or fuck her. This pining is pathetic."
If he only knew.
"I'm not pining."
"You're definitely pining," Irina said. "It's adorable. Either you’re interested or you’re bossier than I imagined."
"Irina, you’re being nosey." Cori interjected.
"She's lovely," Irina continued, ignoring me. "Beautiful. And the way she handles this household? Impressive. You should marry her. I’m sure she’s the only woman you’ve let run anything in your life."
I nearly choked on my vodka.
"Irina," Mikhail said warningly.
"What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking." She turned to her husband. "Aren't I?"
"You are," Adam agreed. "But maybe we shouldn't discuss Olek's love life at the dinner table."
"Why not? He discusses ours constantly."
"That's business," I said.
"So is this, apparently," Cori muttered.
More laughter. I drained my vodka and refilled it, acutely aware of Katrina disappearing into the kitchen. This was torture. Usually by now, I'd have her in my bed. Would have made her come at least twice. Would have her wrapped around me, soft and satisfied.
Instead, I was stuck at this table listening to my family speculate about my love life while she was somewhere else, probably still feeling me from this afternoon.
I didn’t mind the teasing behavior from my family, but maybe it bothered her.
Or maybe she loved it. The thought sent heat straight to my cock.
"I propose a toast," Dmitri announced, raising his glass. "To Olek. May he finally get laid and stop being such a miserable bastard."
"I'm not miserable." I chuckled. “I’m fantastic.”
"You're brooding into your vodka like someone died." He clinked his glass against mine. "Whatever or whoever has you this twisted up, just go get it. Life's too short."
Everyone drank. I stared at my glass and thought about Katrina's promise. About the way she'd looked kneeling in front of me. About the fact that I had to convince her to stay. As time ticked away, it was starting to feel like a death sentence instead of returning her to her freedom.
The family stayed up until three in the morning. Drinking. Playing cards. Telling stories I'd heard a hundred times. It would have been enjoyable if I wasn't climbing the walls wanting to go to Katrina.
By the time everyone finally went to their rooms, I was wound so tight I could barely think. I headed straight for the staff wing, but her door was locked and the lights were off.
I knocked quietly. "Katrina."
Nothing.
"I know you're awake."
Still nothing.
I pressed my forehead against her door. "Tomorrow. Come to me tomorrow."
Silence.
I sighed, hoping that she would, anyway.
The next day was worse.
My cousin Anna arrived with her three children who immediately turned my house into a war zone. Then Uncle Boris showed up with his new wife who insisted on reorganizing my kitchen. Sergei's girlfriend wanted a house tour. Irina decided to cook dinner for everyone.
And through it all, Katrina was everywhere and nowhere. She managed chaos, soothed egos, keeping everything running smoothly. But never alone. Never within reach.
I tried to catch her in the pantry. Someone needed her in the dining room.
Tried to corner her in the hallway. The children needed help to find their toys.
I tried to pull her into my study. Elena interrupted with a question about linens.
By the fourth night, I was ready to throw everyone out and lock the doors.
"You're tense," Mikhail observed as we stood on the balcony, watching snow fall.
"I'm fine."
"You've checked your watch six times in the past ten minutes."
"I have things to do."
"You mean someone to do."
I shot him a look.
He raised his hands. "Just saying. Maybe instead of brooding out here, you should actually talk to her."
"I'm trying. There are too many people."
"Then send them home."
"I invited them here."
"So?" Mikhail clapped me on the shoulder. "Since when do you let anyone stop you from getting what you want?"
He had a point.
I was about to go find her when the doorbell rang.
"Who the hell could this be?" I checked my watch. Nearly ten PM. "Everyone's already here."
"Want me to check?" Mikhail asked.
"I'll get it."
I headed downstairs, irritation mounting. Whoever this was, they'd picked the wrong night to come fucking knocking. I opened the door and froze.
Adrienne stood there, snowflakes in her dark hair, looking exactly as she had a year ago when I'd ended things. Beautiful. Manipulative. And holding the hand of a little girl with my eyes. My princess, Mila.
"Hello, Olek," Adrienne said. "Surprise."
"Daddy!" Mila launched herself at me.
I caught her automatically, my heart clenching. "Mila. Baby. What are you doing here?"
"Mama said we could visit for Christmas!" She was seven now, losing her baby face, all knees and elbows and excitement. "Are you surprised?"
‘Surprised’ didn't begin to cover it.
"Very surprised." I looked at Adrienne over Mila's head. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk." Adrienne’s smile was calculating. "Can we come in? It's freezing."
I should say no. Should tell her to call first next time. Should maintain the boundaries I'd set when I told her we were done. Because we were.
But Mila was looking up at me with such hope, and I hadn't seen her in almost a year because Adrienne had made visitation a nightmare.
"Of course." I stepped back. "Come in."
Mila ran inside, already looking around with wide eyes, and she squealed when she saw her cousins.
"You'll be staying in the blue room in the guest house," I said to Adrienne. "Elena can show you to your room."
"Actually," Adrienne interrupted, "I was hoping we could talk first. Privately."
Every instinct screamed danger. We didn’t have a single thing to discuss. That meant that she wanted something from me.
"Now?"
"It's important." She glanced at Mila. "Adult conversation."
Mila was already distracted by the Christmas tree in the foyer and all the other kids, so I nodded. "Fine. Then we’ll go to my study."
"Too far. Here's fine." Adrienne pulled me toward the hallway near the kitchen.
Katrina was there, polishing the banister. She looked up when we approached, and I saw the exact moment she registered Adrienne.
Fuck.
"Somewhere else," I said quickly to Adrienne.
"This is fine. It's just a hallway." Adrienne positioned herself so that Katrina was clearly visible behind me. Intentional. She was messy in that way. Always trying to give people something to talk about. Except, Katrina wouldn’t be interested in household gossip.
"Adrienne," this wasn’t the fucking place.
"I'll make this quick." She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "I made a mistake. Keeping Mila from you. Letting you end things. All of it."
"We're not having this conversation." I held up my hand. I hadn’t been interested in Adrienne in a long time, way before we were over.
"Why not? Because you've moved on?" Her eyes focused on me, and I saw the hurt shining through. “Who is she?”
"That's none of your business."
"Mila is my business. Our daughter deserves a family, Olek. A real family. And I know—" She touched my chest. "I know I hurt you. But we were good together once. We could be again. Whoever this person is, they can’t mean more to you than your fiancée and daughter."
"No, Adrienne. I’m not interested."
"Just think about it. For Mila." She leaned up and kissed me.
I jerked back immediately, but the damage was done. Behind me, I heard something clatter to the floor. I turned in time to see Katrina rushing away, her cleaning supplies abandoned.
"Fuck." I started after her.
"Daddy?" Mila appeared at the end of the hallway. "Can we have hot chocolate?"
I stopped, torn. "Mila, I need to handle something."
"Please, Daddy? You make it the best."
She looked so small. So hopeful.
And I couldn't just abandon her. Not when I'd barely seen her in a year.
"Five minutes," I said. "Then I’ll be right back."
But when I looked back, Katrina was gone.
I tried to extract myself as quickly as possible. Made Mila hot chocolate. Listened to her chatter about school. Got her settled in her room with Adrienne in the guest house.
All while my mind screamed at me to find Katrina. To explain. The moment I could leave, I did. But her room was empty. Her phone went to voicemail. It was like she'd vanished.
"Where is she?" I demanded when I found Elena.
"Katrina? She said she wasn't feeling well. Said she was taking the rest of the night off."
"Where did she go?"
"I don't know. She just—left."
Panic clawed at my chest. I pulled out my phone and called her again. Voicemail.
Katrina
We need to talk. That wasn't what it looked like.
No response.
Katrina. Please.
Nothing.
"Boss?" Mikhail appeared. "Everything okay?"
"No. Everything's not okay." I ran my hand through my hair. "I need to find her."
He didn’t ask who ‘she’ was because he already knew. “What happened?”
“Adrienne kissed me and said she wants to get back together. It all happened in front of Katrina.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.” I growled, trying to keep my composure.
"Maybe give her some space? Let her cool down?"
"I don't want to give her space. I want to explain what the hell happened."
"Daddy!" Mila called from the living room. "Come see! Uncle Mikhail got me a present!"
I closed my eyes. Breathed. My daughter needed me. But so did Katrina. And I couldn't be in two places at once.
"Go," Mikhail said quietly. "Be with Mila. I'll try to find Katrina. Make sure she's safe."
"Tell her…" What? What could I possibly say? "Tell her I need to talk to her."
"I will."
I went back to Mila, forcing a smile, pretending everything was fine.
But every minute that passed without hearing from Katrina felt like a knife twisting in my chest. I had a daughter I hadn't seen in a year.
And a woman I was desperately in love with whom thought I'd betrayed her.
And no idea how to fix either situation without destroying the other.