Chapter 15 – Kat
The first thing I felt was the ache in my body.
Every muscle felt stiff and sore, a brutal reminder of the previous night’s punishment.
I lay on the couch, the blanket Danil had covered me with a foreign comfort.
My mind went back to the raw humiliation of it all, the sobs I couldn’t stop, the words I was forced to say.
The anger I felt was a cold, hard lump in my chest.
A soft knock on the doorframe of the living room pulled me from my thoughts. A maid came in, her eyes carefully averted from me. She placed a small, neatly folded note on the coffee table beside me, curtsied, and left. The note was from Danil.
My heart pounded, a sudden, frantic rhythm.
I didn’t want to read it. I didn’t want to see his words, to hear his voice, to be reminded of what he had done.
I almost tore it up. But the thought of him, calm and cold, waiting for me to break, stopped me.
He stopped me. He expected me to hide in this room, to lick my wounds. I couldn’t give him that satisfaction.
I opened the note. The handwriting was sharp, elegant, just like him. It mentioned a midday brunch on the rooftop gardens and was signed by Danil. He was asking me to show up as soon as I woke up. I scoffed. He was acting as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just broken me.
I almost decided not to go. But then I thought of Feliks.
I thought of the video. The man who had been so charming and friendly at the party, the man who my father had accused of money laundering.
I needed to see him again, to look at him with this new information in my mind.
Maybe I would finally understand what had felt so off about him.
This brunch would be a chance to observe him.
To learn. And besides, Marielle might be there, a friendly face in a sea of enemies.
With a newfound purpose, I got up, my body still protesting with every step.
I went to my room and then to my closet, where I pulled out a simple, elegant pastel blue dress.
It was a complete contrast to the pink silk I had worn at the last party, and that was the point.
I was not a target today. I was a weapon. I was calm. I was collected.
I put on a pair of flats. My legs were too sore for heels, and I had no intention of falling in front of anyone. I fixed my hair and my makeup, making sure I looked perfect. I was not broken. I was not yet defeated.
I left the suite, my body still humming with pain, and went to the elevator.
I got out on the top floor and stepped into the rooftop garden.
The first thing that first hit me was the light.
It was a beautiful day, with the sun warm on my skin and the breeze gentle.
The garden was breathtaking, with lush greenery and colorful flowers.
I felt a pang of regret that I hadn’t come out here before.
My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Feliks, for Marielle, but they landed on the scene that made my blood run cold.
I saw them instantly. Irene in a sleek, elegant slip dress, sitting beside Danil.
He was in a simple black polo shirt, a stark contrast to his simple west last night.
They were laughing, holding flutes of orange cocktails.
Her hand was resting on his shoulder, her thumb gently stroking the fabric of his shirt.
It wasn’t playful; it was intimate. It was a clear statement.
My breath hitched. The pain in my body, the humiliation from Feliks’s party—it all came roaring back, fueled by a sharp, furious jealousy that felt like a physical blow. I froze. My anger skyrocketed.
Marielle’s voice cut through the fog of my rage.
“Kat! There you are!” She came toward me, her arms open for a hug, but I barely registered her.
“I can’t,” I mumbled, my eyes locked on the two of them.
Marielle followed my gaze, and her expression immediately shifted.
“Oh,” she said and took my arm, her voice low. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink or some food. They’re just talking.”
“Just talking?” I scoffed, the word a bitter taste in my mouth. “She has her hand on his shoulder. He’s laughing. They look like they’re having a private joke.”
Marielle squeezed my arms gently. “Kat, it’s just Irene. She’s been a family friend for a long time. They’re probably just catching up.”
“She’s a family friend who tried to insult me at the last party,” I snapped, pulling my arm from her grasp. “She’s trying to get under my skin. And he’s letting her.”
I felt a ridiculous, desperate pain in my chest. He was a monster to me, a cold, unfeeling tyrant who only cared about control.
But with her, he was soft. He was easy. He was the man I secretly wanted to be with me.
And that was the cruelest part. Because despite all our issues, despite everything he had done, a part of me, a stubborn part of me, loved him.
And the thought of him with someone else was unbearable.
“He punished me for laughing at a party with other men. But he gets to stand here, laughing with a woman who despises me?” The hypocrisy of it all was a sharp, burning wound. I shook my head, my mind made up.
“Kat, what are you doing?” Marielle asked, her eyes wide. “Don’t.”
I ignored her. My eyes never left them. “I’m not standing here anymore,” I said, my voice low and determined. “I’m going over there.”
I ignored Marielle’s frantic whispers and began my slow, deliberate walk toward them. The grass felt soft beneath my feet. I pulled off my flats and tucked them under my arm. If I was going to fight, I was going to do it on my own terms. I was going to stand on my own two feet.
They saw me coming. Irene’s smile became a little too bright. Danil’s expression didn’t change, but his body went still. He knew, yes, he knew what was coming.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice sweet as sugar, but laced with a quiet fury. “Sorry, I’m late. I got so caught up with my mourning routine, I almost missed out.”
Irene’s eyes flickered, but her smile held. “Good morning, Katria. Danil and I were just enjoying the beautiful weather.”
“So, I see,” I said, my eyes locking with Danil’s.
Before I could say something snide, Sava appeared at my side, a partially eaten roll in hand.
“Hey,” he greeted, his eyes flickering between Danil, Irene, and me. “Sorry I left without you. I didn’t want to wake you, and I was hungry.”
In that moment, an idea struck me—a terrible idea—but I was overwhelmed by the rage curling in my stomach that I couldn’t help but ignore any rational thoughts.
“Can I have a bite?” I asked sweetly, gesturing toward Sava’s roll with a half-smile.
His brow rose, and as he went to tear a piece off, I shook my head.
“No,” I murmured, leaning in closer. Quiet enough for just him to hear, I muttered, “Play along, please.”
Sava was flirty enough to understand what was happening here, and though he clearly hesitated to give in, he eventually nodded, holding the warm roll closer to my lips.
Disregarding the crowd of people watching, I took a slow bite from the bread, chewing slowly while letting out a few pleased hums for added effect.
Internally, I knew I was digging Sava’s grave, but I was so jealous that I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Over Sava’s shoulder, Danil met my gaze with a burning stare that felt like both a curse and a twisted comfort. He was furious, and that was exactly what I wanted. But the victory felt hollow when I stood there, feeling the eyes of the other guests on me, whispering, judging.
After we finished our little act, Marielle came back to me, her expression a mix of concern and exasperation.
“Kat, what was that?” she whispered.
“I’m done with the games,” I bit out. “I’m done with her. I’m done with him.”
I walked back to the suite, the journey feeling endless.
The elegance of the estate felt like a prison.
I threw myself onto the sofa, brooding. What was the point of all this?
I had tried to be defiant, to challenge him, to make him angry.
And I had succeeded. But what had it gained me?
More pain. More humiliation. He still controlled everything. He still had the upper hand.
The door of the suite opened, and I didn’t even look up. I knew it was him. The air in the room immediately grew heavy with his presence. He walked over me, and I felt the couch dip slightly as he sat beside me.
I didn’t look at him, but I felt his presence beside me, a heavy, suffocating weight.
The couch filled as he sat down, and the air in the room felt thick with his silent judgment.
I just stared at the wall, my mind replaying the humiliation of the last few days.
The dress. The laughter. The punishment. The public taunting.
Finally, he spoke. “You have a lot to learn, Katria.” His voice was low, and dangerously calm. “Jealousy and revenge don’t look good on you.”
My head snapped toward him. “Jealousy?” I scoffed, the word a bitter taste in my mouth. “Don’t pretend you don’t know why I was angry. I saw you. With her. You were laughing. You were charming. You were everything you refuse to be with me.”
He just looked at me, his face impressive. “I was conducting business. Maintaining a professional relationship.”
“Professional?” I scoffed again, a short, sharp sound. “You can’t be serious. She was draped all over you. And you just…let her.”
He sighed, a sound of profound exasperation. “Katria, that’s the way things are done in my world. You don’t understand the rules. You can’t. You try to play a game you don’t even know the rules to, and then you get angry when you lose.”
He reached out and gently took my hand, his thumb stroking my knuckles.
The touch was soft, so utterly at odds with the cruelty of his words.
“You have so much potential. I see it. You’re so clever, so witty, so sharp.
But when I see you like this, fueled by jealousy, your face twisted in anger, you’re not you.
People change, I know. But you don’t need to lose your essence. ”
I pulled my hand away. “Don’t patronize me. You made a public fool out of me.”
He was silent for a moment, and then he leaned in and kissed my temple. It was a soft, possessive kiss.
“I’m just making an account of our life, Katria. A daily account.”
Then, he did something completely unexpected.
He latched his lips on my neck, just below my ear. I sucked in a shaky breath as he kissed and nibbled the sensitive skin.
I was so stunned I didn’t move. He pulled back, his eyes fixed on the hickey he definitely left on my skin, a silent brand of ownership.
“You will not wear your anger like a shield,” he murmured. “You will not make a show of your feelings. I will mark you, and you will understand. You belong to me, and my enemies will see that mark, and they will know not to touch you. You are my property, Katria. My property, my responsibility.”
I finally found my voice, my own sense of self-preservation kicking in. I pulled my face away, my voice low and laced with a cold fury.
“Don’t you dare tease,” I whispered. “If you love control so much, then fucking take it.”
He just looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I will,” he said, his voice a low, chilling promise. “Very soon.”
He stood up, gave me one last lingering look, and then left the room, leaving me reeling from the aftershock of it all.