Page 71 of Diamond Don

26

KAT

People often say that everything looks better in the morning.

Those people are liars.

After Nik stormed away from the car, leaving me behind, completely naked and alone, I took a moment to reassess my approach to our peculiar situation.

I returned to my room in the penthouse after donning my dress. Nik was nowhere to be found.

Hours later, the cold anger and disappointment in his eyes at my poorly calculated move are still fresh in my mind.

After calling A.J. and washing up, I eagerly welcomed the deep numbness that a whole night of sleep promised, hoping the old saying would prove true. Perhaps everything would look better in the morning.

The warm sunlight brushes against my face, forcefully waking me up, and I groan as I sit up.

The events of the night before rush to the forefront of my mind, almost as if they had never left it. They may very well never have, considering how restless and pointless my attempts at sleeping had been.

There’s no point in lying to myself, denying what I know is true.

I wish I could take last night back and do everything differently.

If only I possessed the power to go back in time and never mention to Nik anything about renegotiating the terms of our deal. I wish I could go back and not tarnish the moment with calculations and scheming. And not only because, as it turned out, the whole thing was a fiasco that set me back instead of forwarding my goals of rebalancing the power scale between us. But mainly because the moment had been extraordinary. Nik has kept me at arm’s length since our true identities were revealed, but something snapped within him last night, pushing him to show me his hand. He revealed a vulnerable side I hadn’t seen before. Now, I regret ruining his attempt at letting me in—even if just by an inch—with machinations and plotting.

It didn’t make things any better that it happened not even twenty-four hours after Nik tenderly soothed and comforted me through my terrible nightmare episode.

If only things did look better this morning…

If only I could spend the rest of the day under these soft and crisp Egyptian cotton sheets, wallowing in my misery… But that would accomplish nothing. It wouldn’t make anything better. I made a mess, and now I have to clean it up—simple as that. There’s no point in crying over spilled milk. As I’ve learned long ago, no one will save me. Nobody is going to clean up my messes.

So I get dressed. I put on my makeup. I do my hair. I go through the motions as I think, analyzing my options.

Perhaps not everything looks better in the morning, but I believe there’s truth to a different saying—where there’s a will, there’s a way. And I’m willing to work to fix my mess with Nik.

Serendipitously, my phone pings just then.

I put down my hairbrush and pick up the cell phone once I see it’s a text from A.J. When I called her last night looking for a shoulder to cry on, she told me there was still nothing but radio silence from the stronzo. I was relieved to hear this since lately, it seems like whenever something goes wrong, then everything else does as well. Plus, this reprieve allows A.J. to pursue Camilla’s lead in peace, which she badly needs now that she’s working our angle solo, courtesy of my angry Russian.

Despite everything on her plate, A.J. immediately noticed something was off with me. After filling her in and sharing my latest blunder, I asked her for a favor. I told her about the museum gala’s surveillance feeds and how our little heist ruined the internal footage. I asked her to try to work her magic on it, and she promised she would try.

Mere hours after our phone call, her message is unexpected but welcome.

I couldn’t sleep last night. You might have a point about my Diet Coke “addiction”, as you like to put it. I’m still working on your surveillance videos, but I thought I’d share what I have so far.

A video follows her text. I click on it, and after a moment, I identify it as footage from the metal detectors at the museum’s entrance. I pause the video and make sure to reply to her message before I forget to do it.

You’re the best! I owe you one.

A.J.’s response comes right away.

After this mess with the stronzo, it was the least I could do. Besides, bitch, please. After all these years, who the hell is keeping track of who owes whom what?

With a smile, I send her a heart emoji, promising to catch up with her later.

I grab my phone and search for Nik, hoping he is at his office. But as I pass the kitchen, the scent of freshly baked muffins beckons me. So, I decide to grab a plate and fill it with some of the homemade goods.

Full plate in hand, I walk around the penthouse, hoping to run into Dmitri. I could use his insight into Nik’s mood this morning—plus a little advice on correcting my mistake. Unfortunately, he’s nowhere to be found, so I head to Nik’s office, wondering if he is even there. For all I know, he might not even be home.

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