KATARINA
By the next day, therapy sessions had resumed and business seemed pretty much back to usual in Hallow Hall. I supposed that the death of the institute's patron saint hadn’t really mattered that much, considering he was seldom in residence anyway.
When I thought about him going around town, soaking up praise and adoration from his parishioners and leading his church, with innocent, trusting women like my mother attending every single day, my blood boiled.
Now he’d never stand in the house of God and lie again.
Sister Vera marched through the building, heading for the floor where Pavol’s office was. I hurried to keep up with my sore ribs.
We reached Pavol’s office in record time. Sister Vera looked tense. Her utter dislike of me was beginning to show more and more every day.
“What’s wrong, Sister? What’s going on today?” I asked her, unable to stop myself from prodding at her obvious panic.
They hadn’t told the residents what had happened yet. They had left everyone wondering and afraid. Excellent mental health support. Maybe they’d tell everyone at some point that Vargas had passed, or maybe they wouldn’t even bother.
“It’s good that everything is getting back to normal after whatever happened earlier this week.”
Sister Vera shook her head. “The schedule of the institute is nothing for you to concern yourself with. Just get inside and don’t cause any trouble for once.”
“Yes, Sister.” I fought a smile as I walked into Pavol’s office. Riling up Sister Vera was always fun. Of course, she always got her revenge by delivering me to my dreaded sessions on time, but I had to take my fun where I could get it, or I’d go completely crazy for real.
I stepped into the room and stopped. The door shut softly behind me.
Pavol was a mess, despite a few days having passed since the dark night when Vargas had swung.
He sat behind a messy desk. His eyes were bloodshot, and there was a distinct smell... vodka.
Massimo stood in the corner like a demon at the crossroads waiting for a stray soul to wander past.
“Father?” I forced out when Pavol failed to even notice me. He was sorting through the papers on his desk with increasing erraticism. He snapped his head up.
“Katarina, you’re here.” He stared at me as if he’d seen a ghost.
“You . . . It’s time for our meeting.”
Pavol nodded and reached for his tea flask. He opened it and looked inside, and then cursed. “Yes, I see. Well, we could have just canceled today’s session, but then I remembered that FatherLucciano is here.” He pushed up from the table and nodded toward Massimo.
“He’ll lead your therapy today. I’ve briefed him on the next stage of your exposure therapy.”
Then Pavol was heading out, gripping his flask as though his life depended on it.
The door shut behind him, and silence surged in.
I met his inky eyes, and a ripple of awareness moved through me. That kiss on the cheek last night felt like a flashing neon sign over my head, impossible to ignore. Shockingly intimate somehow.
He straightened up and prowled across the room. I could see him in the military. He moved like a man who knew how to use his body as a weapon. A deadly one. He had perfect confidence, and that was intimidating and... hot. Undoubtedly hot.
Hot, dangerous, and he was determined to have me.
Massimo walked past me to the door and turned the lock.
He’s a killer. How do you know he won’t change his mind and decide not to bother with your little deal?
“I don’t know. I have faith,” I murmured, only a whisper.
My heart beat harder, my pulse jumping in my veins. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement. What did I know about excitement? Like I’d told him, I’d never even been kissed properly. Growing up with a religious single mother, I hadn’t wanted to make her ashamed by getting a reputation in our neighborhood. The small community had loved to gossip, and since we were immigrants and without a man in the family, we already got more than our fair share.
I want to be all your firsts.That phrase had played in my head on repeat since he’d uttered the words that night. And I’d agreed... agreed like a fool without a single thought of how Iwould handle a man like Massimo Lucciano being my first anything.