Chapter 14
Katrina
Istood outside Olek's study at exactly noon, my hand raised to knock.
I reminded myself what we were here for.
This was business. Just asking for help with a practical problem.
It had nothing to do with the fact that I'd cried myself to sleep.
Or that I'd woken up with swollen eyes and a hollow chest. Or that every time I closed my eyes, I saw him kissing her.
Business. Keep it business.
I knocked.
"Come in."
He looked worse than I felt. His hair was disheveled like he'd been running his hands through it. His shirt was wrinkled. Dark circles shadowed his eyes.
Good. He deserved to be unraveled. But was it about me or her?
"Katrina." He stood immediately. "Thank God. I tried reaching you all night."
"I need to talk to you about something." I stayed by the door, keeping distance between us. "It's important."
"So is what I need to say. About last night.”
"This isn't about last night."
"It should be. You need to understand."
"I need you to listen." My voice came out sharper than intended. "Please."
He stopped, jaw tight. "Fine. Talk."
I took a breath. "My childcare situation has changed. The person who's been watching my sister can't do it anymore. She's going back to school in January."
His expression shifted from frustrated to focused. "Okay?"
"Zara. She's seven. And I need," this was so hard, "I need to ask if she could stay here. I’ve talked to Maria, and her daughter will watch Zara during the day, and I'd handle everything else. She wouldn't be any trouble. You wouldn't even know she was here."
"Of course."
I blinked. "What?"
"Of course she can stay here. You didn't even have to ask." He moved around the desk. "When do you need her here?"
"After Christmas? Shanice said she'd keep her through the holidays."
"No. Bring her now. Today." His voice was firm. "Your sister should spend Christmas with you. Mikhail can pick her up this afternoon."
Something in my chest cracked. "You don't have to."
"I want to." He stepped closer. "Move into the family quarters. The ones near the kitchen. Two bedrooms, private bathroom. It's yours."
"Olek …"
"And about last night." His hand reached for me. "I need you to understand …"
I stepped back. "You don't owe me an explanation."
"I do. Adrienne is my ex. We were engaged a year ago. It didn't work out."
"You have a daughter with her."
"Mila. She's seven. Adrienne kept her from me for almost a year because …" He ran his hand through his hair. "Because she wanted me back and thought cutting off access would force my hand."
"Did it work?"
"No. It's over between us. Has been for a long time."
"She kissed you."
"I didn't kiss her back. I pushed her away immediately."
"I saw …"
"You saw her ambush me in a hallway. You saw me pull away." His eyes were intense. "You didn't see me spend the next three hours trying to find you. Didn't see me panic thinking you'd left for good."
My throat tightened. "Why didn't you tell me? About Mila. About being engaged."
"Because," he stopped. "I wanted to keep that part of my life separate. Because bringing you into it felt like making this real."
"This was always real."
"Not like that." He looked at me. "Katrina, what we have, it's not just the contract anymore. You know that, right?"
"Do I?" I forced myself to meet his eyes. "Because from where I'm standing, you have a daughter and an ex who want you back. And I'm just the maid you're fucking for ninety days."
"That's not …"
"I think we should end this." The words came out steadily despite the way my hands shook. "The arrangement. We still have about a month and a half, but I'll work on paying you all the money back. I can set up a payment plan …"
"No."
"It's not up for negotiation. This was a mistake. We both knew it would end, eventually. Might as well end it now before …"
"Before what?" He grabbed my arms. "Before you admit you feel something? Before you let yourself feel something."
I jerked away. "Please don't touch me."
"Katrina."
"No.” I tried to blink back the tears, but it only made them come faster.
I wiped them from my eyes quickly. “I need to move my things.
Get the family quarters ready." I headed for the door.
"Thank you for letting Zara stay. I'll make sure she doesn't disturb you or your guests, and I’ll stay out of your way. Thank you, Olek."
"Katrina, wait …"
I walked out before he could finish. Before I could break down. Before I could take back every word and beg him to hold me.
The family quarters was bigger than I expected. Two bedrooms, a living area, a bathroom with an actual tub. It would be perfect for Zara. I threw myself into preparing it. Changed sheets. Scrubbed surfaces. Hung curtains. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind off Olek.
Elena found me around three. "Mikhail's leaving to pick up your sister. He needs the address."
I gave it to her, along with detailed instructions about Zara's stuffed rabbit and her favorite snacks and how she didn't like loud noises. She was autistic and very specific about things. I’d already talked to Shanice, and she was going to take care of the rest of the particulars.
"She'll be fine," Elena assured me. "And it'll be nice having a kid around for Christmas. The place feels more festive already."
Festive. Right.
The mansion was decorated within an inch of its life, garlands on every banister, wreaths on every door, a massive tree in the foyer dripping with ornaments.
Red and gold everywhere. The scent of pine and cinnamon.
Not to mention the other Christmas trees that were scattered around the property just as beautifully decorated.
It should have felt magical. It just felt hollow. I went back to work, helping set up for tonight's dinner. The dining room needed to be perfect—Olek was particular about his Christmas celebrations. I was arranging poinsettias when he walked in.
"Katrina …"
I moved to the other side of the table, not looking at him. "The silverware needs polishing. I'll get Elena on it."
"Look at me."
"I'm working."
"We need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about." I adjusted a candlestick. "The arrangement is over. You're welcome to find someone else for the remaining days."
"I don't want someone else."
"That's not my problem." I finally looked at him, keeping my face blank. "Was there something you needed, Mr. Sidorov? Otherwise, I have work to do."
Mr. Sidorov. The formality was a knife between us.
His jaw tightened. "No. Nothing."
He left, and I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I could do this. I could keep it professional. I could survive. Even if my eyes were swollen from crying. Even if my chest ached every time I saw him. Even if walking away from him felt like ripping off my own skin.
Zara arrived soon after, clutching her rabbit and looking around with huge eyes.
"Kat!" She launched herself at me, and I caught her, holding tight.
"Hey, baby girl. You okay?"
"This place is huge! Mr. Mikhail said you work here. Is this really where you work?"
"It is. Come on, let me show you our room."
I took her to the family quarters, watching her face light up at the sight of her own bedroom. I’d had time to put together a small sensory corner for enjoyment thanks to Maria.
"It's so big! And there's a window! Can I put my posters up?" she said immediately, sitting on the large ledge in front of the window. It gave her a front-row seat to the Christmas tree outside, lit up and ready to be enjoyed.
"We'll see. This is temporary, remember?"
"I know. But still." She smiled. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." I came over to her and smoothed her hair. "Now listen. There are guests here for Christmas. Important people. You need to be on your absolute best behavior, okay? No running in the halls. If you need to go outside, ask me first."
"I promise." She looked up at me seriously. "I don't want you to get in trouble."
"Good girl." I kissed her forehead. "Are you up to meeting some people?”
Zara nodded, “I saw toys upstairs.”
“Okay. Let me know if it becomes too much, okay?”
Zara nodded again and grabbed her rabbit.
I brought her to the living room where some of the guests had gathered. Adam's children were there—three kids between five and ten.
"This is my sister, Zara," I said. "Zara, say hello."
"Hello," she said shyly.
"Can she play with us?" asked the oldest boy. "We're building a fort."
"If it's okay with your parents and if Zara wants to." I looked down at her, and she nodded.
"It's fine," Irina said warmly. "The more the merrier. We're going to decorate gingerbread houses after dinner too."
"Can I, Kat?" Zara's eyes were hopeful.
I looked up and found Olek standing in the doorway, watching us. Our eyes met, and something passed between us. Permission. Understanding. Maybe grief.
"Mr. Sidorov?" I asked formally. "Would it be alright if Zara joined the children's activities?"
"Of course." His voice was rough. "She's welcome to anything. Mila will be happy to have another girl to play with."
Mila. His daughter. Who I still hadn't met officially.
"Thank you," I said stiffly.
I turned back to Zara. "You can play. But remember—best behavior."
"I will! I promise!" She ran off with the other children, already giggling.
I watched her go, my chest tight. At least she was happy. Safe. That was what mattered.
"She looks like you," Olek said quietly.
I stiffened. "I need to finish setting the table."
"Katrina."
"Excuse me, Mr. Sidorov."
I walked away, back to the dining room, back to work. Back to pretending my heart wasn't breaking. The table was nearly done—twenty-five places, crystal glasses, china plates, everything gleaming under the chandelier. Red runners down the center, gold candles, fresh pine boughs.
Christmas magic for people who believed in it.
I was arranging the final place setting when I heard children's laughter. Zara ran past the doorway, chasing one of Adam's kids, both of them shrieking with delight.
"Walk, please!" I called.
"Sorry!" Zara slowed, grinning at me before disappearing again.
"She's adorable."
I turned. Irina stood in the doorway, smiling.
"Thank you. She's everything to me."
"I can tell." Irina came closer. "It's good that she's here. Good, that you have her close for the holidays."
"Mr. Sidorov was very generous to allow it."
"He's generous with people he cares about." She gave me a knowing look. "And he clearly cares about you."
I focused on straightening a fork. "He's my employer."
"Mhmm. And I'm the Queen of England." She touched my arm gently. "Whatever happened between you two—it's none of my business. But I've known Olek since he was a boy. I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."
My throat tightened. "You're mistaken."
"I'm not. But," she squeezed my arm, "I'll mind my business. Just think about it, okay? Life's too short for stubborn pride."
She left, and I stood there staring at the perfect table, wondering how everything had gotten so complicated.
In the other room, I could hear Olek's voice mixing with Mikhail's.
The sound of the children playing. Christmas music starting up on the sound system.
Joy and laughter and everything Christmas was supposed to be.
And me, standing alone, trying to remember why I'd pushed him away.
Trying to forget the look in his eyes when I called him Mr. Sidorov.
Trying to survive without completely falling apart.
I took a breath, straightened my shoulders, and went back to work. Because that's what I did. I survived. Even when it hurt, or felt impossible. Even when all I wanted was to run to his study and take back every word.
I survived.