Katya doesn’t sit in her own corner for the ride to the auction ball. She’s practically in my lap, fussing, talking, draping herself over me, and I sit still, gritting through it. f**k that.
“Katya.”I don’t raise my voice, but the warning cuts clear. I’m seconds from putting hands on her if she doesn’t back off.
“You’re such a sour puss, Alek. You used to be fun when it was just us,” she says, pouting like a brat, still ignoring the edge in my tone.
This is on me. I let her get too relaxed with me once, a mistake I’m not repeating with Claire. With Claire, I draw the line and I make damn sure it stays drawn.
My eyes lock on her face, and I let the anger seep through, hot as the blood simmering under my skin.
“Alright, fine.” She smacks my chest with an easy hand before leaning back, t
