Chapter 11 #2
Konstantin's smile widens, showing a flash of white teeth. "It's an affectionate term. We are all brothers."
Got it. I think.
"Is there a lot of trouble here?" I gesture vaguely at some soot smudging the inside corner of the elevator car. “I also noticed the scaffolding in the lobby yesterday, the mis-matched paint behind the security desk for repaired walls. Should I be worried?"
"Don't let the repairs fool you." Konstantin's voice carries the weight of absolute certainty. "This place is safe. Drake wouldn't have brought you here otherwise." He pauses, his expression softening. "Rafael wouldn't have Persia and his baby here all the time either. Trust me. You're protected."
Fair point. I nod slowly, letting his assurance settle into my chest alongside the warmth of the coffee.
The elevator slows as we approach our destination, and Konstantin turns to face me fully. His ice-colored eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
"He's not as hard as he pretends to be." The words come out soft, almost conspiratorial. "Don't tell him I said that. But don't break his heart, okay?"
I blink at him, certain I've misheard. "Me? I'm just here because I signed a contract. I don't think hearts have anything to do with it."
His eyes light up. "Doesn't it?" The elevator doors slide open, but Konstantin doesn't move. "You are living with the man, Katriana. Hearts are always involved when midnight rolls around and there’s nowhere to hide when the truth comes to find you."
I don’t know if that is the wisest thing I’ve ever heard or the creepiest. Instead of commenting I raise my coffee cup to my lips and take a hard swallow.
With that, Kon steps out, leaving me to follow in his wake while his words echo through my mind.
Living with the man. I turn those words around in my head a few times. As if they mean something. As if sharing a penthouse with Drake Moses is somehow more significant than the business arrangement outlined in black and white on the contract I signed.
Konstantin leads me through a maze of hallways I vaguely remember from yesterday's tour, stopping finally at an office that sits adjacent to Drake's own door.
The space is smaller than his but still impressive, all clean lines and modern furniture with a view of the city that makes my heart ache with its beauty.
"This is you." He gestures to the desk, to the computer already humming quietly, to the leather chair that looks like the Cadillac of office chairs. Creamy leather is a new favorite of mine.
I put my coffee mug on the corner and trace a finger over the arm of the chair. Buttery soft.
"Sienna will be along shortly to help you get settled. Any questions, you have my number."
I don't have his number. I don't even have a phone.
But before I can point out either of these fairly significant details, Konstantin presses a card into my palm and nods toward the top drawer of my desk.
I slide it open to find a cell phone nestled inside, glossy and new and waiting for me like it's been there all along.
By the time I look up to thank him, Kon is already disappearing down the hallway, leaving me feeling simultaneously protected and utterly confused.
I'm still staring at the card when Sienna appears in the doorway two seconds later, a bright smile on her face and a coffee cup in each hand.
"First real day in the office." She crosses to my desk and sets one of the cups before me, the familiar logo of an expensive chain printed on the side. "I thought you might need reinforcements. And I figured I'd show you the ropes before Drake comes back and buries you in work."
The warmth that blooms in my chest at her kindness catches me off guard.
I like Sienna immediately, more than I usually let myself like anyone.
There's a genuineness to her that feels rare in this world of expensive suits and dangerous secrets, and I find myself relaxing in her presence in a way I haven't relaxed around another person in years.
"Thank you." I wrap my hands around the cup she's given me, breathing in the rich aroma of high-quality espresso. "I appreciate you taking the time."
"Please." She waves away my gratitude with a manicured hand. "This place can be overwhelming at first. God knows I would have drowned without help when I started working for Rafael. Consider me your lifeline."
We spend the morning working through the systems and protocols that govern life at Redthorne Holdings.
Sienna explains the hierarchy of the organization, who reports to whom, which meetings are mandatory and which can be safely ignored.
She walks me through the scheduling software, the communication channels, the unwritten rules that separate the insiders from the outsiders.
Her perfume drifts toward me as she leans over my shoulder to demonstrate a particularly complicated filing system, something floral and expensive that makes me think of garden parties and champagne.
She smells like the kind of woman who has never worried about paying rent or choosing between groceries and electricity.
But there's no condescension in her manner, no hint that she sees me as anything less than an equal. She treats me like a colleague, like a friend, and I find myself opening up to her in ways that would normally take months of careful trust-building.
By the time the clock approaches noon, my head is swimming with information but my heart feels lighter than it has in days.
"Lunch break." Sienna straightens from where she's been perched on the edge of my desk and stretches her arms above her head. "I usually eat at my desk, but you should take some time. Clear your head. First days are always exhausting."
I nod gratefully and reach for my phone as she slips out of the office, already knowing who I need to call.
Gemma answers on the second ring.
"Kat!" My sister's voice bursts through the speaker, bubbling with the enthusiasm that has always been her defining characteristic.
"Oh my God, I've been dying to talk to you.
Tell me everything about this new job. And the new living situation!
Mom said you moved into some fancy building downtown? What is happening?"
Her voice washes over me like a warm bath, soothing tensions I didn't know I was carrying. I lean back in my chair and let myself smile.
"It's a lot to explain." I keep my voice light, careful not to reveal too much. "But it's good, Gem. It's really good. The job is demanding, but the people are nice. And the apartment is... well, it's nicer than anything I've ever lived in."
I hedge the truth because Gemma doesn’t know about Victor, the wish, or the contract.
"I knew it! I knew you would get hired by a nice publishing house one day." Gemma's excitement is contagious and I can't bear to break her heart by telling her the truth. I can never tell her I work for criminals who do shady things day in and day out.
"I told Mom you'd land on your feet,” Gemma continues. “You always do. When can you visit? I miss your face. Mom misses your face. Even the neighbor's cat misses your face. Err…maybe. Mr. Jingles actually probably still hates you from when you left him outside all night."
I laugh, the sound surprising me with its genuine warmth. "We both know that it was an accident. He was busy chasing the neighbor's kitty anyway. He showed up looking pretty happy with himself. And soon. I promise. Things are settling here, but as soon as I can get away, I'll come see you both."
"You better. You promised to follow us and it’s been five years."
“Soon. I feel like I’m just not ready to say goodbye to Dad yet.”
There's a pause, and when Gemma speaks again, her voice has softened. "Mom's doing better, by the way.”
She never liked talking about death. I let her change the subject.
“Yeah?”
“Yes! She actually got dressed today. Went outside and everything. Whatever you're doing, Kat, it's working."
The relief that floods through me is so overwhelming that I have to close my eyes against the sting of tears.
My family is safe. For the first time in five years, they're actually, truly safe.
No more threatening phone calls. No more debt collectors showing up at my door.
No more fear that Victor Kedrov's long arms will reach across state lines and destroy the people I love most. When I told them they had to move to New York it was under the guise of it being cheaper to live there after Dad died.
I promised I would follow right after I graduated. Only Gemma knows I dropped out.
"I'm glad." My voice comes out rougher than I intended, scraped raw by emotions I can't fully express. "Take care of her for me, okay? And take care of yourself."
"Always." Gemma's smile is audible through the phone. "Love you, big sis."
"Love you too, little one."
I end the call and sit for a moment in the silence of my new office, letting the conversation settle into my bones. Gemma sounded happy. Genuinely happy, not the forced cheerfulness she's been performing for the past five years while our family crumbled around us.
Whatever price I'm paying to be here, it's worth it. Every awkward moment, every confusing emotion, every kiss that threatens to undo me. It's all worth it if it means my family can finally breathe.
A folder on my desk catches my attention, and I pull it toward me to find a work list written in Drake's masculine scrawl. The instructions are detailed, demanding, and absolutely fair. He expects a lot from his assistant, but he's also taken the time to explain exactly what he needs and why.
I throw myself into the work with a focus that borders on desperation, grateful for the distraction from thoughts of last night. The tasks are challenging enough to require my full attention, and by mid-afternoon I've fallen into a rhythm that feels almost natural.
Sienna appears in my doorway around two o'clock with a fresh coffee and a conspiratorial smile. "Break time. You've been staring at that screen for three hours straight."
I accept the cup gratefully and lean back in my chair while she perches on the edge of my desk, her legs crossed at the ankle and her posture relaxed in a way that invites conversation.
"So." She takes a sip of her own drink and watches me over the rim. "How are you holding up? First days can be brutal."
"Honestly? My head is swimming." I gesture at the stack of folders Drake left for me. "There's so much to learn. I keep worrying I'm going to mess something up and get fired before the week is out."
Sienna laughs, the sound warm and genuine.
"Trust me, I know exactly how you feel. When I started working for Rafael, I accidentally scheduled him for three meetings at the same time on my second day.
Three. He had to be in the boardroom, the conference room, and on a video call simultaneously.
" She shakes her head at the memory. "I was convinced he was going to fire me on the spot. "
"What happened?"
"He looked at my schedule, looked at me, and said 'Pick one. Cancel the other two. And next time, check the calendar before you confirm anything.'" She grins. "That was it. No yelling. No lecture. Just fix it and learn from it."
The anecdote loosens a knot of anxiety I didn't realize I was carrying. "That's... surprisingly reasonable."
"They all are, once you figure out how they operate.
" Sienna leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Kon pretends he doesn't care about details, but he notices everything.
If you move something on his desk, he'll know.
Massimo is a stickler for proper legal language, so don't paraphrase anything he sends you.
Rowan barely speaks, but if he nods at you, that's basically a standing ovation in his world. "
I file each piece of information away, grateful for the insider knowledge. "And Drake?"
Her expression softens with something that looks almost like fondness.
"Drake is... complicated. He comes off cold, but it's armor, not personality.
He notices the small things. Remembers details you mentioned once in passing and never brought up again.
" She pauses, studying my face. "He asked me to make sure your office had good lighting because you wear glasses.
Said he didn't want you straining your eyes. "
The revelation lands somewhere soft in my chest, and I don't know what to do with it.
Sienna must read something in my expression because she changes the subject smoothly, launching into a story about the time Luca convinced an entire floor of executives that there was a dress code change and half of them showed up in Hawaiian shirts.
Her laughter is infectious, and I find myself relaxing into the conversation, sharing small pieces of myself in return.
By the time she slips back to her own desk an hour later, I feel less like a stranger navigating foreign territory and more like someone who might actually belong here.
I listen and let myself be grateful for her warmth, even as some small part of me wonders when the other shoe will drop. Good things don't happen to me. Friendships don't form this easily. There must be a catch somewhere.
But for now, in this moment, I let myself enjoy the connection without questioning it too deeply.
The afternoon light has begun to fade into evening gold when my new phone buzzes with an incoming text. I glance at the screen and feel my heart rate spike.
Dinner. 7 PM. My office. -Drake
The words are simple, direct, completely professional. But they send heat flooding through my body in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
Everyone leaves at five. The building will be empty by seven. It will be just us, alone, in his office with the door closed and the city lights glittering beyond the windows.
After what I heard last night. After what I saw. After the way he moaned my name like I was the only woman in the world.
I press my thighs together against the sudden ache between them and force my attention back to the work on my desk.
Three hundred and sixty-four more days. That's how long I have to survive being alone with Drake Moses without giving in to the attraction that threatens to consume me.
Three hundred and sixty-four more days of pretending I don't want him, don't dream about him, didn't stand pressed against a door watching him pleasure himself to thoughts of me.
I take a deep breath and straighten my spine.
This should be interesting.