Chapter 8 - Kayla
It’s late.
Very late.
Or very early, depending on how you want to look at it.
I moved the single armchair closer to the massive double doors that lead out to my private balcony in my bedroom. The doors are wide open, and I’m sitting just inside the doorway. I’ve been staring at the stars for so long, the sky is starting to change color.
My mind is far too busy to let me sleep. I know, because I tried. All I managed to do was toss and turn until the frustration was so bad I wanted to scream or cry.
So, I came to sit here.
It’s peaceful around me. The world seems quieter than usual. Perhaps it’s because my mind is so noisy.
He’s a Bratva king. A powerful, dangerous mafia leader.
It explains so much, but also leaves me with so many questions that I’m honestly not sure I want the answers to.
At least now I know why he broke up with me.
A mafia king…he probably got so bored messing around with someone as normal as me. His world is chaos, mayhem, and excitement. I was some kind of dull intrusion. Something to have a little fun with before it became too bland.
It makes me feel the smallest bit better, knowing.
Because it’s also something I couldn’t actually compete with. That level of excitement or adrenaline is never going to be who I am.
It still hurts, though.
All of it hurts.
Being too ordinary hurts.
Loving a man who is so powerful and so dangerous…it hurts.
Loved. In the past. Not anymore.
I’ve spent hours just thinking. Every little piece of the puzzle is clicking into place as my understanding of the situation grows. And it isn’t just about what happened between us all those years ago. It’s also about now.
And for the first time in my life, I can’t numb the feeling inside me. It’s too big. It’s too much.
I’m drowning in fear.
The father of my children is a monster. He is a murderer, a criminal, and a dangerous, deadly man. What have I done? Bringing them here?
What is he capable of if I try and leave?
I’m terrified.
And I have no idea what to do.
The only thing I can do is stay polite, keep my distance and wait. So far, Josiah has shown no capacity to harm our children. The emotional harm he did to me was brutal, but I can handle that now.
My children, as far as I know, are not in any immediate danger.
So, I have to wait.
It’s just past five on Sunday morning when I finally go downstairs to the kitchen to make some coffee.
It’s obvious that I won’t be getting any sleep.
Maybe this afternoon I’ll ask Stella to watch the girls if I need to steal an hour’s sleep.
If I don’t, then tomorrow at work is going to be a huge challenge.
I’m not one of those people who can lose sleep and still thrive.
It makes me moody, and I can’t think straight.
I still get things done, I still hide my difficulties, but it makes life harder.
Leaving the lights off as I move through the mansion, I use the soft morning light of sunrise to find my way around.
But as I walk into the kitchen, I get a massive fright.
Josiah is standing next to the coffee machine in the dark.
My sharp gasp has him turning quickly towards me.
“Kayla,” he says quietly. “You’re up early?”
“Or late, whichever way you view it,” I reply.
“You didn’t sleep?” he sounds worried.
I shake my head. No.
“Why don’t you go back to bed, and I’ll bring you some coffee?” he asks.
“No, thank you, it would only frustrate me to lie in bed for another second. I might go for a run before the girls wake up,” I reply.
“A run? I didn’t know you ran?” he muses.
I smile tightly. “I don’t. It’s more of a slow, chunky jog. I wasn’t born to be a runner, but sometimes it helps me clear my thoughts,” I shrug.
“I see. Is it because of last night…because of…”
“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it,” I reply quickly.
The less I know, the better. I’m not sure I’m ready to have him explaining the details of his mafia life to me.
It might freak me out even more. For now, I’m barely holding the fear inside myself.
I can’t overwhelm my poor head with more information.
“I understand,” he says quietly. “But if you change your mind, I’m here to talk…to answer anything.” He smiles at me, and his eyes are soft and warm. He doesn’t look like a monster. He doesn’t look like a mafia boss.
What does a mafia boss look like, anyway?
All I know is that I can’t trust him. He is probably so used to lying to everyone about everything. It’s how you get so much power. You manipulate and steal…you become a criminal.
I tear my eyes away from him as my heart starts pounding anxiously.
“I think I’ll have tea instead of coffee,” I decide out loud. The caffeine might wake me up, but it also might make the anxiety worse.
“I’ll make it,” he says, reaching for a mug.
“No, please, don’t worry about it. I need something to do,” I tell him.
He steps back from the counter, holding his coffee mug. “Then I’ll leave you in peace,” he smiles.
He has such a beautiful smile.
The devil can be just as beautiful as an angel.
***
Monday morning.
Yesterday was the longest day of my life. I managed to sneak in a thirty-minute nap just after lunchtime, but it wasn’t really enough. At least I slept well last night.
The office is filled with all the usual Monday morning noises, people chatting about what they did over the weekend, while others rush around trying to quickly finish things that were actually due last Friday.
I sit at my desk, and I can feel his eyes on me.
When Bianca comes up to me and speaks, I literally jump.
“Can I make you a coffee?” she asks in her usual professional manner.
“Oh, Bianca, you really snuck up on me,” I giggle, a little embarrassed.
“I assure you, I didn’t. I walked the same way I always walk,” she says, tilting her head to the side.
“Of course, yes, I’m clearly just a bit jumpy this morning,” I smile awkwardly. “I would love coffee, thanks.”
She nods and walks away, and I look up to find Josiah still watching me.
He lifts his hand and gestures for me to come into his office. Dammit. Is this week going to be a repeat of the last, where he constantly pesters me and calls me in for seemingly no reason at all?
Sighing softly, I push away from my desk and stand up, rolling my shoulders gently. I tilt my neck back and try to force my body to wake up properly.
You’ve got this. You’ve been through more challenging things in life than missing out on a bit of sleep and having stressful information looping in your head.
“Kayla, are you okay?” Josiah asks, standing next to his desk. His voice is a low whisper, and his face is lined with concern.
“Um, yes, why?” I ask, knitting my brows and glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one else is in earshot of our conversation.
“Because you look…exhausted.” He cocks his head to the side and studies my face.
I force a smile, opening my eyes a little wider and standing up straighter. “I’m not,” I say confidently.
He takes a slow breath, letting it out while I stand there shifting from one foot to the other, wishing this moment would end.
“Was there anything else?” I ask, trying to hurry him up.
He smiles briefly, then shakes his head. “No, except for the Carter account. I do need that by lunch time.”
“I’m almost done with it. I’ll have it finished in the next hour…if I don’t have any distractions,” I add cautiously.
A low rumbling chuckle bubbles from his chest. “Noted,” he says with quiet amusement.
He nods as a silent gesture to release me from whatever this is.
I turn away from him and hurry back to my desk. I might have just bought myself some peace and quiet for the morning. I should have said I needed no distractions until lunch.
I don’t know if Josiah sent out a memo or something, but it’s as though I have a giant Do Not Disturb sign on the back of my chair.
Absolutely no one comes to ask me anything, and when people walk past, they do so extra quietly.
Even Bianca sets my coffee down without letting the cup make a sound on the desk.
It’s blissfully wonderful, and I fly through the Carter account and get ahead on a number of others.
It’s quarter past twelve when Josiah comes to my desk to talk to me. I look up at him, and he’s holding the Carter report I sent a few hours ago.
“Come, the client is arriving in five minutes. We have a meeting in the boardroom.”
“What? A meeting?” I stammer. Did I miss something in my calendar? There's no chance. I'm meticulous about tracking things. Usually, I prepare for meetings. Usually, I know meetings are going to happen before the client arrives!
“Yes. I looked over your analysis of their account, and it’s brilliant. I want you in there with me,” he says calmly, cocking his head to the side to tell me to hurry up.
At least one thing I’ve become very good at in business is hiding panic.
Any kind of panic. Panic when I don’t know how to do something—I quietly research and work it out.
Panic when I’ve made a mistake—I go out of my way to ensure the mistake is rectified, and I take full responsibility for it.
And panic when I am about to walk into a meeting with one of Josiah’s biggest clients, and I have not had any time to process what the meeting is even about.
Walking behind Josiah, trying to keep up with his long strides and still look elegant in my pale blue stilettos, I fire questions at him.
“Is this meeting about the report specifically?”
“No, the meeting is about convincing the client to increase their budget with us. The report is our negotiation tool,” he replies.
“And would you like me to speak freely or only when you ask me direct questions?”
“What? I don’t understand the question?” He comes to a stop and reaches out to touch my shoulder to pull me to a stop, too. “What are you asking?”