Page 42 of Niko's Printsessa

Her eyes widen. She jumps out of the shower and grabs a towel, quickly wrapping it around her beautiful curves. I shut off the water and follow her into the bedroom.

She paces back and forth. “Shit.”

I place my hands on her shoulders, stopping her. “Take a deep breath, Bec.”

She inhales and exhales slowly, the towel does nothing to cover up the rise and fall of her gorgeous chest. I force myself to look into her glassy eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I think I know who it is.”

“Get dressed and meet me in my office.”

“But, I need to tell you…”

I cut her off, “Ten more minutes isn’t going to change anything. Get dressed and meet me in my office, okay? I’ll have coffee waiting. We’ll need to get Andrei and Sergei on the phone.”

???

The coffee finishes brewing just as she knocks on the door and enters my office. She’s dressed in worn jeans and a loose concert T-shirt.

I make her coffee just how she likes and gesture to the chairs in front of the fireplace. I don’t want a desk between us. Her hands shake when she sets the mug on the coffee table.

I hold her hand in mine and squeeze gently, trying to provide some comfort. “Okay, what has you so upset?”

“I know who is after me.”

“Who?”

“Kira.”

“Kira?”

“My friend from college. The Russian one. I party with her.”

“What makes you think it’s her?”

“You know how we make our New Years Eve wishes? Burn the princess to ash? Ash is the common denominator in every threat. She says that toast all the time. Not just on New Years Eve. Whenever we take a shot or toast our Champagne. No crumpled up paper, no wishes, just the toast. It’s like her thing. I think it's dumb, but she thinks it's funny.”

“Is there anything else that leads you to believe it’s her?”

She hesitates, “Last night she texted me. She was out with Trish and wanted to know where I was, but I was cryptic with my answers. I told her I had family obligations, and typically that would satisfy her, but she kept begging me to come out. She said she stopped by my condo to borrow a dress, but I wasn’t there. She called the distillery looking for me, too. She's never called the distillery before. Anyway, I apologized, and then she invited me to a liquid lunch today. I told her I had to work, but she didn’t let it go. She circled back and asked me where I was again, teasing me that I had a hot date with my vibrator.”

“We’ll return to that later.”

She snorts, “Whatever. I finally ended the text, telling her I’d call her today.”

“She’s Russian. Is she connected?”

“No, but her family lived there until she was sixteen.”

"But why would she want to harm you? You’ve known each other since college. I thought you were friends."

Becca

I bite my lip. “I’m not sure.”

“Liar.”

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