Chapter 7 - Yulian
My phone is wedged between my shoulder and my cheek as I pace the workshop in my back garden, carrying the wooden shelves from the pile against the wall to my workbench to sand and varnish.
“So, can you help me tomorrow?” Arkady asks, his voice slightly muffled because the phone isn’t sitting quite right against my ear. I pause to adjust it so I can hear him better.
He’s asking me to spend the day with him tomorrow. That would be a day away from Katerina. A day I don’t want to spend away from her.
“Can you possibly ask Luka first? I’m swamped here. If he can’t do it, then I can make a plan, but I’m a bit overwhelmed at the moment.” This isn’t true, and I feel bad lying to my brother, but the truth is way too dangerous to share.
I kidnapped Katerina Krolik, and I want to spend time with her because I’m completely obsessed with her.
Yeah, that will go down well.
“Sure, man, let me give him a call. I don’t think he’s busy at the moment. I’ll get back to you if he can’t help.” Arkady doesn’t sound annoyed or disappointed, which is a relief.
“Thanks for understanding.” I dump the last shelf down on the pile and stand up, rolling my shoulders as I shift the phone into my hand.
“How’s the place coming along?” he asks.
“I’m working on that bookshelf I want in the entrance. I think I’m just procrastinating starting the west wing, because once that begins, it’s a lot of intense and intricate work.”
He chuckles. “Well, I can’t wait to see it. The last time you let me in there, it was just a shell of a place, cement walls and holes where windows should be. Didn’t look like a home at all. The picture you sent of the fireplace was magnificent, though. I’m really impressed.”
“Yeah, man, a lot has changed since you last saw the place. You won’t even recognize it.”
“Feel free to give me another tour anytime.”
“Not yet,” I grin, “but soon.”
“Don’t make me wait until the whole west wing is finished. You said the dining room was functional. Invite us all over for pizza and a beer.”
“Good idea. As soon as I’ve finished a few key pieces in the east wing, we’ll have a party here.”
After the call with my brother, I slide my phone into the back pocket of my torn blue work jeans and glance over the shelving. I have no intention of doing this today; I was just messing around in here, trying to decide how to deal with the confusing emotions I have towards Katerina.
On one hand, I should be letting her go and forgetting this ever happened, as she suggested, but on the other hand, she agreed to my deal.
A deal I tricked her into, which was low of me.
In all honestly, if she had pushed harder to be let go, I might have caved.
But I manipulated her instead. And now she’s staying, and I have a chance to get to know her more.
So that’s how I need to be spending my time.
I’ve stolen some more time with her, and as brief as it might be, I want to make the most of it.
There is so much I don’t know about her. So much to explore. So much to learn. She’s a beautiful mystery to me, and the more I discover, the deeper I fall for her.
Inside, I find Katerina kneeling in front of one of the boxes of books I brought in from the back storage room. She looks happy as she unpacks them into piles, browsing the titles to choose what she wants to read.
“I’m sorting them by genre. Unless you want to stack them in the bookshelf some other way? By spine color? Author name?” she raises her brows, looking up at me from her kneeling position. Her eyes are wide and beautiful, innocent as they catch mine. My mind flickers to places it shouldn’t go.
“You don’t have to do that. I only brought them out here because you wanted something to read,” I say.
She traces her fingers over the books, smiling. “I like the way they smell. These are all first editions,” she says in awe.
“Of course, and most of them are signed,” I grinned.
“I never took you for a man with class, but your taste in architecture, decor, and reading material has proven me wrong.” Her voice is full of playful lightness.
“You should see my vintage tool collection,” I muse.
“Mm. Does that mean you’re also sentimental? My goodness. The shock.” She clutches her hand to her chest and feigns horror, her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide.
“Oh, shush, you,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“What’s this?” she asks, pulling out a large folded document from the book box.
“Oh, that shouldn’t be in there.” I lean over to take it from her.
“But what is it?”
“Blueprints for this place. A copy of them, anyway. The originals are up in the office. I use these in the workshop to reference.”
“Can I see?” she asks, genuine curiosity glittering in her turquoise eyes.
Her interest in my designs excites me. I grin, nodding, gesturing towards the dining room table. She stands up from where she’s kneeling and follows me as I unfold and spread the documents out on the handmade mahogany table.
Katerina climbs onto one of the dining room chairs, kneeling on it and leaning over the blueprint with her elbows on the table and her chin resting in her hands.
“It’s all Greek to me,” she scrunches her nose, her eyes tracing over the thin white lines on the blue paper.
I laugh. “Here, it’s actually easier than it looks.” I trace my finger around the dining room. “This is the room we’re in now. See, here are the stairs from the foyer. This line here is the wall where the bookshelf will go.”
“Oh, okay, and that’s the fireplace.” She points, understanding.
“Yes, and this here shows it’s an entrance to the next level. Which is on a different blueprint.”
“And this?”
“The west wing. Here is my favorite room, the one I’m most looking forward to creating.
” I point to the far corner of the blueprint.
“The walls will basically all be windows. Both sides. I’ll create custom frames.
I was thinking of carving vines into the woodwork, because this will be a sunroom of sorts, filled with plants and a natural indoor swimming pool filled by a waterfall that runs over a rock wall.
Then there will be a really elaborate staircase, each step made from sleeper wood, floating, that leads to the upper level. ”
“It’s going to take you forever,” she whispers, imagining the things I’m describing.
“I’m not in a rush. Beautiful things take time to create. When I look at these white lines, I see past them to the design in my head. It’s just a shell, waiting to hold my dreams.”
I feel her eyes on me and pull mine off the blueprint, towards her.
Her face is filled with wonder as she studies my expression.
“You really love this, don’t you. It’s a true passion.
One you’re really good at, I might add. I really admire that kind of commitment to something that makes you so happy.
It’s something special to be able to follow your dream like that. ”
“Thank you, yes, it is a passion. It’s an outlet, a way to share a piece of myself in the things I create.
I really don’t care how long it takes me.
I know some people rush the process because they think the goal is the thing that matters most. For me, the process is just as pleasurable as the outcome.
You must have something that you love doing, too?
” I cock my head to the side. “What brings you to life? What do you dream of creating or bringing to life?”
The question is innocent enough. I certainly don’t expect it to provoke the look of hurt that immediately clouds her expression. Katerina pushes away from the blueprint, sitting up straight for a second, her brows knitted.
She huffs, then stands up.
“Did I say something wrong?” I ask, confused.
“Nothing, why would you think that? I’m just busy with something, and I’m done here,” she snaps, heated and angry, her words not matching her sudden mood shift at all.
“Uh…” I stammer, furrowing my brow. “Okay, I guess, sure, go ahead.”
But she’s already walking away from me, not even pausing to glance back when she storms out of the room.
What the hell just happened? I clearly hit a nerve.
All I did was mention her dreams or aspirations. Something is going on there. I wonder what.
For the rest of the day, Katerina avoids me, and I can’t stop thinking about how easily I upset her with one innocent question. I decide to investigate further. If she won’t tell me, I can find out in my own way.
One call to my private detective and he’s on the case.
I tell him to start as small as possible, not wanting to make waves or attract attention. I’ve asked him to hack her e-mails and her message history.
It’ll at least give me an idea of what’s going on with her.
It doesn’t take him long to get back to me. Later that night, he calls after dinner, when Kat is somewhere upstairs.
I walk out into the garden when my phone rings.
“Dante, what have you got for me?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“Well, sir, it looks like Katerina was about to open her own business just before her uncle died. There are a number of e-mails detailing a business plan, her cost breakdown, her ideas…she wanted to be a fashion designer.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why she got upset when I asked her about her dreams. She could have just told me that.”
“No, I think the reason it’s a sore spot for her is that her brothers shut it down.
There is an intense conversation between Artur and her on messenger.
She was angry and hurt because he told her she had to put it off due to him taking over as a Bratva leader.
He didn’t want her to make a name for herself and draw attention.
He felt she would be putting a target on her back, and it was an unnecessary risk for the family. ”
I sigh heavily. “So, he blocked her dreams.”
“Yes, sir. To keep her safe. He made it clear it was a temporary setback. He said she could do it in a few years after the family was more established and had enough power to protect her. I think, by the tone of her messages, she understood, but was bitterly disappointed.”
“That’s not fair, though. There are other ways to work around things,” I huff.
“Was there anything else? Did you want me to dig more into this?”
“No, thanks, that answers my question.”
After the call, I pace up and down the garden for a while.
It’s growing darker now that the sun has set, and when I turn to look at the mansion, I see Katerina sitting on the bedroom balcony, curled up on the outside sofa near the edge, a book in her lap.
She looks beautiful in the soft lighting.
My heart yearns to make her smile. It yearns to give her the chance to have her dreams fulfilled.
What her brothers took from her wasn’t fair. She didn’t have to stop altogether.
In that moment, I decide that I’m going to fix this for her. Whatever it takes, I’ll make her dreams come true. She is too beautiful, too special to have her dreams snatched away from her like that.
And maybe by doing this, she will begin to understand that she means more to me than she thinks.