ALEX.
Madam Katarina didn’t bother hiding her displeasure.
The moment she walked into the hallway and found me there—alone, without the children—her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she stopped a few feet away from me, arms folding across her chest like a verdict already passed.
“So,” she said coolly, her eyes raking over me, “you’re still here.”
I straightened instinctively. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her brows arched. “And the children?”
“They’re in the living room,” I replied. “With Niko.”
“Niko,” she interrupted sharply, “did not invite you to make yourself comfortable in my house when the children aren’t present.”
My chest tightened. “I wasn’t—”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Save it. I’ve watched you long enough.”
Her gaze
