Vittorio sighed. “She’s still upset? If you had listened to me, I could have saved you this headache.”
“You really never miss a chance to say I told you so, do you?”
“I’m a priest, I preach—what more do you expect?”
I just shook my head and dropped it into my hands. I didn’t want to go home and see my empty room. It would make it all too real. When I’d heard that Lucy and her bodyguard had come back, I knew it was for Katarina.
And I had to let her go... that much was obvious. If I wantedher forgiveness, I just had to do it, suffer without her, wait for her return. It was penance I wasn’t sure I’d survive.
“Well, in that case, I’m going.” I stood up. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. I had to get used to my new reality. I was tracking down Tatiana’s mother. If she wasn’t able or willing to meet her, then I had to adjust things for the little girl who’d be living with us. I had no idea how to explain to Tatiana that Katarina was going away... Maybe she wouldn’t go because of her?
My heart leapt pathetically at the slightest sliver of hope that gave me... that maybe Katarina would stay, not because of me, but her sister.
“Yes, go on and get home. You’ve a family to look after now,” Vittorio advised.
A family? When one of them wanted to escape me? I’d made a mess of my family before it had ever gotten started. It was just like me.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he called.
I waved over my shoulder. “Looking forward to it.”
The townhouse was stillwhen I entered, just as I’d feared it would be. Tatiana and Paolo were no doubt asleep at this late hour, and Katarina? She was probably halfway to Florence. I resisted checking the tracker on the dog tags. I’d at least wait until morning.
I made a mental note to check out houses in Florence, as well. If Katarina wanted to live in Florence, that was fine... there was no rule that I couldn’t rent a place there, too, while she was there.
Fuck, I was doing it again... manipulating things. It came so naturally it was challenging to stop.
I climbed the stairs slowly to my room. I already knew it wasgoing to smell like Katarina, and I was probably going to spend the entire night tortured and hard, wishing she was there. Fucking the mattress because it smelled like her would be a new low, but really, how long would that smell last? I had to take advantage of it while I had the chance.
I got to my bedroom and pushed open the door.
The covers were unmade, which I’d specifically asked Paolo for.
I stepped into the room and heard a creak coming from the stairs. I stilled, alertness flashing through me, pushing away my sadness and regret and filling me with adrenaline. Was there someone in my fucking house? A minion of Hallow Hall? A leftover man from the Stoyanov family? I turned silently and made my way back along the hall toward the stairs. The soft patter of someone trying very hard to be quiet met my ear.
I advanced down the stairs. There was a soft creak. I knew that sound like I knew every single sound in my house. It was the library door.
I reached it and pushed it open, waiting a moment to see if anyone showed themselves.
It was quiet inside, the fire banked but still warm. A single lamp was lit on a table next to a wingback leather chair, so the room was shadowy. Plenty of places to hide.
I stepped into the room and smelled it. As sweet as perfume, but priceless and unique.
The smell of an angel.
She moved quickly, but I was quicker, grabbing my assailant and spinning us both so her back met the wall. I made sure to cushion the blow with my forearm.
A flash of silver and a sharp prick to my neck. I was transported back to Hallow Hall and the way Katarina had begged me for her life... how the tables had turned.
Now I was the one begging her for my life, because without her, I was a dead man.
She looked up at me, alive and vital and so fucking real. She was here. She hadn’t left.
She pressed the small knife to my throat, and I recognized it as one from my bedside.
“I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I’m too fucking happy to see you,” I admitted roughly.
She wet her lips, short-circuiting my brain.