Kat
Adrian paces our tiny room. It’s late evening, and we’ve been cooped up here all day. The ship seems still. I think it dropped anchor. Adrian says they have one more port stop tomorrow before they sail across the ocean.
I’m staying alert. It could be my last chance to escape before Adrian brings this thing with my father to a head.
But he’s seemed troubled all night–not that he’s ever not troubled. My grumpy cinnamon roll. He’s been checking his phone for service and cursing. I get the feeling he’s rethinking his plan. Deciding if he’s really going through with his vendetta.
I’d like to believe it’s because of me.
Because he’s fallen for me as hard as I’ve fallen for him.
If I got to keep you, Kateryna, I would build you an art studio.
He’d said it like it was a pipe dream. Some
