She purses her lips. “Of course I do. I can, like, try on clothes I order online, and you tell me what you think. I can do your nails and we’ll have meals together like this.”
That’s not really a bodyguard’s job, but I don’t tell her that.
Karina traces the rim of her cup and sighs. “We never had meals as a family, you know.”
“Why not?”
“Mama and Papa didn’t like each other, and they made it their mission that the three of us would be filled with hate, too.” She gulps a mouthful of coffee. “They made us compete against each other all the time.”
I lean over in my seat. “Compete how?”
“Kirill and Konstantin were at it way before I came along. At first, it was childish things like racing and grades, but then it was martial arts, shooting lessons, and how to perform under pressure.”
“Pe
