by Shandi Boyes
Henry, Sr.’s visit added to my untouchable stature, and it extended the vault of arsenal I was rapidly gaining. Since I protected his son, he made me part of his family, which evoked several favors, one of which I used to have Isabelle’s brother, Enrique, extradited to Russia.
Although our meeting was not traditional, I’ve learned a lot from Henry the past eight years. The most fathomable was that mercy and understanding should always come before blame and revenge. He gave up his family to save them from the entity he was destined to lead, yet, hate still came knocking. Henry, Sr. and his son now have a somewhat amicable relationship, but Katarina isn’t as quick to forgive. Henry’s absence from their son’s life hurt her for years, so she has many left to wade through before she can consider forgiveness.
I’m drawn from my thoughts when Callie huffs. She’s unimpressed that Katarina’s brisk strides are moving her away from us. Aware this is an event that’s undertaken daily, Roger tails Katarina, but he keeps a reasonable distance so our watch won’t be alerted.
I hear Isabelle’s heart smash against her ribs when Katarina climbs the stairs of a well-known charity organization on this side of the country. Just before she enters the big wooden door, she’s greeted by a gentleman with a stout frame and round midsection. They talk for a mere ten-seconds before Katarina hands him the envelope Henry left for her.
When Katarina pivots on her heels and returns in the direction she just came, I instruct for Roger to park in the loading zone next to us before drifting my eyes to Isabelle. “Come on. The rest of the story is inside.”
I unbuckle Callie from her carseat, gather her in close to my chest, then slide out of our transportation for today. I had every intention to help Isabelle out as well, but she’s so eager to ease her curiosity, she’s snapping at my heels before I get the chance.
She squeezes my hand when we climb the five entrance stairs, pleased by the donor badge attached by the front door. Colt Enterprises is solely responsible for the thirty-three point seven million dollars distributed by this charity every year. It’s one of the numerous charities Cormack and I fund.
“Mr. Holt. Good morning.” Rudy jumps up from his chair to greet us as eagerly as he did Katarina minutes ago. “I’m afraid you just missed Ms. Rouse. She won’t be back until this evening.”
“That’s fine. I’m not here on official business.”
After introducing him to Isabella and Callie, I ask him to bring me last month’s ledgers. It’s only partway through August, so July’s tallies will give Isabelle a better understanding of the ruse Henry, Sr. and I have been running the past six years.
When Rudy hands me the requested ledger, I smile in thanks before nudging my head at the door. “Could you give us a minute?”
He nods so quickly, the meaty flesh under his skin wobbles. Once he’s mingling with the homeless community he ensures are fed, showered, and housed, I place Callie into his office chair, giving it a good spin for measure before opening the ledger on his desk.
“Every morning at precisely eleven, Henry visits Katarina.”
“Every morning?” Suspicion highlights Isabelle’s tone, but she’s more chuffed than anything. I guess to an old romantic, it’s the epitome of romance.
“Every single morning without fail, he gives her this.” I hand the envelope she saw Henry place into Katarina’s mail slot. Her mouth falls open when she discovers a check for ten thousand dollars. Although the check was written to Katarina Rouse, it’s been signed over to Noble Wellness, my charity organization.
“She gives it all away?”
The wetness in Isabelle’s eyes doubles when I nod. “Every penny. She doesn’t keep a single cent.”
Isabelle’s mouth falls open, but it doesn’t stop her from saying, “That’s over three and a half million dollars a year!”
My smirk dries some of the moisture in her eyes. “I’m very adept at math, especially when it comes to money.”
She ribs me with her elbow. “Ha-ha, smarty pants. I’m just trying to work out how she can ignore his generosity and live in New York City.”
Isabelle’s inquisitiveness is answered when I point to a gathering of photographs tacked around Rudy’s office. Most have Katarina in them, and more times than not, she’s front and center. “Although she doesn’t draw a salary, her housing, utilities, and insurance are paid for by Noble Wellness. What it lacks, I make up for.”
I see Isabelle’s brain working a million miles an hour in her beautiful chocolate eyes, but since it will be easier to show her what I mean instead of explaining, I regather Callie in my arms before making my way outside.
“Thanks for your time, Rudy.”
He raises his hand, acknowledging he heard me before he keeps working the line in the soup kitchen to ensure late-comers don’t miss out on breakfast. When the bell above the door chimes, Roger stops reading his paper to peer over at me. When I take a left, he returns to reading, wordlessly advising he understands he is to stay alert. Henry has eyes on every inch of this block, but I’ll forever be cautious. I couldn’t protect Isabelle and Callie before they came into my life, but I sure as hell can now.
The scent of freshly cut meats and cheeses filter into my nose when I guide Isabelle into a free-range market at the end of the block. Kwan greets me with a big shout of my name, startling Callie. She burrows her head into my chest, hiding Kwan’s blood-stained apron from sight. He’s a butcher who has no hesitation getting his hands a little dirty—in and out of his shop.
After adjusting Callie onto my left hip, hiding her from Kwan, I lock my eyes with the man responsible for Callie’s tiny tremors. “Has Katarina’s order gone out yet?”
Kwan shakes his head. “Not yet. Angelo was just about to take it.”
He gestures for Angelo to hurry, worried I’m angry my daily order of groceries is a few minutes late. Usually, I would be, but since this gives me a perfect excuse to show how far a man will go for the woman he loves, I’m not.
“I’ll take it today.”
Kwan stops hacking at a big beast hanging on a hook at the back of the deli. “Are you sure? We don’t mind. It’s part of the service.”
“Still, I’d like to do it myself.” I stray my eyes to Isabelle. “It’s about time a proper introduction is made.”
“Ah…” Kwan joins us on the other side of the deli. “This must be the infamous Isabelle I’ve heard so much about.”
He offers Isabelle his hand to shake. She’s hesitant. Not because his six-foot-seven height is more notable from this distance but because his hand is covered with blood. “Side effects of the job.”
He drags his hand down his apron, coating it with more blood, before re-offering his hand. Isabelle grimaces but accepts his gesture. Once they’ve finished their greeting, Kwan drops his inky black eyes to Callie. “And this must be Callie, the little rabbit who stole Na-noo from us for almost a month.”
That piques Callie’s interest. I don’t know if it’s referencing the nickname she gave Katarina that holds her interest or the fact he called her ‘little rabbit.’ It could be a combination of both.
“May I?” Kwan waves his hand across a box of sweets sitting beside Katarina’s order. When I dip my chin, he gathers a wrapped sucker from inside and offers it to Callie. “Не волнуйся, я не сделаю тебе больно.”
When Callie accepts the candy from Kwan, it becomes apparent she doesn’t just understand Russian, she can speak it. “большая мышь?”
Kwan throws his head back and laughs. “да, большая мышь.”
16
Isabelle
The best things happen unexpectedly.
* * *
I stare at the man wearing a bloody apron and name tag that says ‘Kwan’ with my mouth hanging open and my heart in my throat. My Russian is still poor. Other than telling Callie she’s okay on multiple occasions during her first two weeks at Ravenshoe, I haven’t utilized my bilingualism in the slightest.
However, even with my skills lacking, I’ll never forget the words Callie and Kwan just exchanged. She asked him if he was a big mouse after he called her little rabbit. Only one man I know referenced himself as a big mouse. It was my uncle, Tobias.
Kwan has the same bald head like him. He stands almost just as tall, and his accent is just as thick. There’s just one difference—Kwan is thirty or so years younger than my uncle would have been if he hadn’t passed. He’s right around the age Tobias’s children would be if he ever had children of his own.
Oh, god.
Uncomfortable about my prolonged gawk, Kwan dips his chin in farewell before returning to carving up the animal hanging at the back of the open market stall. Isaac’s suspicions are as high as mine, but instead of interrogating me in front of a dozen witnesses, he requests for Angelo to deliver Katarina’s order as he does each day before bundling Callie and me back into the SUV Roger is guarding as if the President is inside.
After buckling Callie into her car seat, Isaac gets set to interrogate me, but I beat him to the punch. “What do you know about Kwan?”
He’s not a fan of the snapped command in my voice, but he takes it in stride. “When he’s not working for Henry, he has a fascination with cutting up meat.”
Isaac’s underhanded way of saying Kwan is a mobster would be entertaining if I didn’t have a hundred theories running through my head. “Does he work with Henry or for him?”
My husband-to-be shoots me a suspicious glare. “There’s a difference?”
I nod. “Very much so. My uncle always said he worked with people. He never worked for them.”
I’m most likely clutching at straws, praying Tobias left some sort of legacy beside me, but I can’t help it. I struggled at the start of my relationship with Isaac because I didn’t want my uncle’s name shrouded with controversy. That burden wouldn’t seem so thick if it were on more than one recipient’s shoulders.
Isaac’s brows furrow in confusion. “What does your uncle have to do with Kwan?”
“Did you see him?” I thrust my hand in the direction we just walked. “He looks just like Tobias.”
“Not all bald men are related to your uncle, Isabelle.” Isaac’s husky laugh is sliced in half when I cut it off with a stern glare.
“When he called Callie little rabbit, she asked if he was a big mouse. I did the same thing with my uncle.” I keep my voice on the down-low to ensure Callie doesn’t overhear us. She’s too busy working out how to get the wrapper off the lollipop Kwan gave her to pay me any attention, but I’d rather remain cautious. “He’d only know that if he’s Tobias’s son or he was—”
A loud tap on the window next to Isaac’s head startles me enough, I stop talking. My heart is praying Kwan has come to confess, so I’m a little disappointed when I recognize the dark-haired woman glancing at the tint as if she can see through it. Roger didn’t stop Katarina’s approach as he’s aware Isaac has always seen her as more of a mother than a threat.
After squeezing my hand, soundlessly guaranteeing we’ll continue our conversation about Kwan later, Isaac slides down the window to greet Katarina with a broad grin. His smile alone soothes the frantic swirls of my stomach.
I don’t know why I’m so tense. If Kwan is Tobias’s son, I should be excited. I guess some of my worries center on how this will impact Regina. She loved Tobias for decades, so discovering he fathered a child with someone else would break her heart.
Once the window slots into place, Katarina bobs down so we can see her face. “You came all the way here, but you couldn’t deliver your package yourself, Isaac. I’m hurt.” She’s holding the basket of food Kwan pointed out earlier. It has a thank you slip attached to the top. “You don’t need to thank me for every donation. The money isn’t even coming from me.” The face she pulls has me suspicious on if she knows the true connection between Isaac and Henry, Sr. Even with Henry having a ruthless underworld persona, he’s very much a father figure to Isaac.
Before Isaac can reply, Callie releases her lollipop from its wrapper. Her squeal of jubilation alerts Katarina that Isaac isn’t the only person in the back seat of his car. “Little rabbit…”
Katarina’s eyes glisten the longer they roam over my face. After dropping her hamper of food onto the ground like it’s garbage, she throws open the back-passenger door of the SUV and slides inside. Once she’s shoved Isaac out of the way, she cups my cheeks and peers into my eyes like she’s certain I’m going to vanish at any moment.
I understand why when she says, “I haven’t seen you in years. You weren’t much older than Callie, but I’d never forget these eyes.”
Talking about Callie, a sugar-loaded sweet is the last thing on her mind when she realizes who has joined us in the now-crammed backseat. “Na-noo!”
“You had no idea?” Katarina wordlessly praises Callie on her impressive coloring-in skills before devoting her attention back to me.
I reluctantly shake my head. “No, sorry. My memories of my first few months with Tobias are a little sketchy.”
Just like Isaac did for Callie, Tobias brought Katarina in to assist in my care during the transition stage of my sale. With the Bureau not willing to expose they had agents undercover in the Popov compound, Tobias had no choice but to bring in outside help.
I, just like Isaac, had no idea Katarina had taken in many children, saving them from sex-trafficking the past twenty-eight years—Kwan included. That’s how he knew the little rabbit-big mouse thing. Katarina copied it from Tobias when she helped Kwan merge into a world less violent than the one he was born in. Although, if Kwan’s aura is anything to go by, he may not have stepped away from it as much as Katarina believes.
I finish on the last of my coffee before placing down my mug. “Why did you stop taking in children?”
I laugh when she runs her finger across the faintest smattering of wrinkles in the corner of her eyes. I’d give anything to look as refreshed and stunning as her when I reach her age, which I’d guess to be early fifties.
“Truthfully, I thought I was helping them. In reality, I was introducing them into the same violent world they were attempting to escape from.” She huffs, somewhat annoyed. “It just had a new leader at the helm.” Katarina strays her glistening eyes to Isaac, who’s undertaking a business call in her den. “Some come out okay. Others…” The moisture suddenly bombarding her eyes finalizes her reply.
Although the words she doesn’t speak are the loudest, I’ve never been able to harbor my curiosity. “Henry tried to help?”
Katarina’s eyes rocket back to mine quicker than a bullet fired from a gun. Her shock has me wondering if this is the first time anyone has mentioned Henry’s name in front of her for years. I doubt that is the case. She did name her only son after him.
I don’t know what Katarina sees in my eyes, but I get the feeling it’s the first time she’s been frank in a very long time. “Yes. His heart was in the right place, but no matter how much you guide people in the right direction, greed can still alter the direction of their course. He got lucky with Isaac and Kwan. There were many lost between them. I still help. I just do it differently now.”
Her fingertips brush a brochure for Noble Wellness before she gathers our mugs from the tabletop to wash them in the sink. Her home is certainly modest compared to Isaac’s residence, but it has a homely, nurturing feeling to it. I can see many fond memories being created here, both in the past and future.
After placing the clean mugs into the drying rack, Katarina spins around to face me, drying her hands with a tea towel on the way. “Enough about me. Surely, you have more adventurous activities planned for today, especially considering what day it is.”
The motherly glint in her eyes warms my heart. Her fondness for Isaac is as obvious as the sun hanging in the sky, but not in a weird, creepy way. She loves him as if he’s her son. It’s the same glimmer Isaac’s eyes get every time he looks at Callie.
With that in mind, I say, “Actually, I do h
ave something big planned, and I could really use your help.”
Callie’s eyes light up when I gesture for Katarina to move closer so I can whisper a secret in her ear. Considering how young she is, Callie has done a remarkable job at keeping her lips locked today. I’m not surprised. When it comes to making Isaac happy, Callie is willing to do anything, even if it risks her tiny little heart being broken.
Katarina’s eyes shine as brightly as Callie’s when she inches back so our eyes can meet. “When?”
“Today.” I check my watch. “In around an hour and a half.” My comment releases a kaleidoscope of butterflies into my stomach. Considering I feel seconds from squealing, I would say they’re excited butterflies more than nervous ones. “Can you come?”
Henry’s fascination is revealed in the most beautiful way when Katarina smiles. Just like Regan, she has a Heaven’s Gate opening smile. “I’d be delighted to attend. Thank you for inviting me.” When she crouches down to meet Callie eye to eye, the hem of her skirt ruffles the thin ankle bracelet she’s wearing. “I have to find something appropriate to wear. Do you think you could help me?”
Unlike me, Callie is very girlie. She loves glittery nails, makeup, and shoes. She’s snuck into my walk-in closet many times to try on the shoes Isaac has Harlow secretly buy me. I had to bribe her with sweets this morning, so I could wear a pair of stilettos she seconded as hers. Usually, I’d be happy to get around in ballet flats or heelless wedges, but that would look a little silly since I changed into a dress as Isaac requested. I’m also sans underwear, which makes my footwear of choice even more risqué.
When Katarina and Callie race into Katarina’s bedroom, I join Isaac in the den. While he finalizes his call, which sounds like it could be a teleconference with Hugo and Hunter, I take in the photographs scattered around the homely space. Katarina lives a humble existence, but if her family relics are anything to go by, her memories are more valuable than any object she could own.