Page 30 of The Bratva King's Kidnapped Bride

Katie’s shoulders lowered and she nodded. “I guess.”

She hurriedly went through everything and pointed out what she wanted to take back with us, and I made a call to get it done. On the way back to my—our house, we took a scenic route where she pointed out the high school she went to after St. Ambrose, the catfish restaurant where she got her first job at sixteen, and the park where she sometimes took the little kids that she babysat.

“You certainly were busy as a teenager,” I mused.

“I took whatever job someone offered,” she said. “Jenna had a couple part-time jobs too, but every time she took one, her grades suffered, and we were determined for her to get the scholarships she was going to need to go out of state.”

I, too, had been working from a very young age. I’d been born into the business, after all. But it had all been mine, and I’d never wanted for anything. Never knew what it would be like to go without something if I didn’t work. Hearing Katie talk about her past made me admire her tenacity, and her selflessness even more.

At home, we ate lunch that Olga had waiting for us, then her boxes arrived. Katie directed a small one to go to the kitchen, and the rest I had put in the guest bedroom next to mine.

“Am I not sleeping with you even now?” she blurted out, turning red.

“You’re sleeping with me,” I growled. “I thought you could use this as a dressing room, or a place to read or get some quiet time. The glamorous surroundings suit you, but you can have it redecorated if you like.”

“Me? Glamorous? Okay.” With that, she happily started tearing into the first box, which was labeled pictures.

I never thought I’d be the kind of man who’d find so much enjoyment in helping someone unpack, but I was fascinated by Katie. I yearned to know everything about her, and every framed photo she pulled out of the box held a story.

“Look, here’s Jenna on her graduation,” she said, showing a picture of a young woman who looked similar to Katie, only without the vibrant red hair. Katie’s face beamed with pride, while Jenna looked sheepish, holding up her diploma. An older woman stood between them, carrying only a vague resemblance to the two girls she had both arms slung around. “That’s my aunt. Jenna and I look more like our mom, and she’s my dad’s sister.”

“If you weren’t so young-looking, the pride in your eyes would make me think you were her mother,” I said.

“Oh, gosh, was I ever proud. You don’t know how hard she worked to get to the top of her class. And she had her acceptance letter to Penn State already, and we were just about there with the first-semester tuition. Yeah, this was a great day.”

I studied Katie as she smiled down at the picture. “What about you? Didn’t you want to go to college?” I wanted to ask why her dreams got put on hold, but by now I knew that was just her giving nature.

“I would have gone to culinary school if I could have.” She shrugged, pulling out another picture. “I still might be able to, one day. There’s no time limit.”

“That’s true,” I told her.

As soon as things calmed down, I’d arrange for private lessons with whatever top chef she desired. Right now, I needed to keep her to myself, but I was determined to make all the dreams she’d set aside come to life.

Katie chattered away as she pulled out picture after picture, finally dragging out a tattered album that looked like it was older than she was.

“This was my aunt’s,” she said with the first hint of a frown brought on by her memories. She opened it to show wedding pictures. “This is my mom and dad’s wedding. It was shortly after they got married that he struck it rich.” Her face twisted into a scowl. “I have no idea if it was legitimate or just one of his many scams. Anyway, then I was born, and Jenna two years later.”

She hurriedly flipped the pages to show various baby pictures, but her mood was too darkened to ask her to slow down.

“What about your mother?” I asked, curious if she held as much bitterness toward that woman as she did her father.

“Mom loved us, that much I know for sure,” she said with a wistful sigh. “But she also loved our lux life. Everything, designer, everything the best. It was divided in the trials if she knew anything about what he was up to. I like to think she didn’t, but I’m not really sure.”

“But you and Jenna never had any inkling?”

Her face shot up, fierce with anger. “None. Totally blindsided. It crushed both of us, and was humiliating on top of that. I thought he loved us—”

“I’m sure he must have,” I interjected.

She shook her head, sending her ponytail whipping across her cheek. “No. He didn’t. He chose money over us.” She grabbed her sister’s graduation picture. “We were struggling when this picture was taken. Barely scraping by. But we were happy. We could have been happy without all the money, but my dad didn’t think so. Neither did my mom, I guess. They chose big houses, fancy cars, and a private plane over honest happiness.” She paused to wipe away a tear. “And then they died in their stupid jet on the way to Barbados.”

I pulled her close, knocking some pictures she was hiding in the folds of her dress onto the floor. She patted her cheeks and tried to grab for them, but I had already seen and picked them up.

They were of her and Nataliye. One of them in their St. Ambrose uniforms, on the grounds of the academy. Another was much more recent, maybe even taken that year, with their heads close together as they grinned at the camera.

Katie’s already grim face turned darker as she tried to take the pictures from me.

“You don’t have to hide these,” I said. “It doesn’t bother me.”

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