Page 86 of Wicked Arrangement

“Yaroslav,” Kim breathes, taking a step toward me. “I was so worried about you, about David. Did Marta…?” she says, her words trailing off.

“Die,” I snap, finishing her question, unable to keep the venom from my voice at the mention of my sister. “Yes. She did, and I was in a fucking coma, and I am now scarred for life, yet miraculously, you survived unscathed. How did that happen?”

Kim recoils as though slapped. “I- I’m so sorry about Marta, I thought that was the case, but I couldn’t help hoping I was wrong.”

“Don’t say her name,” I say, my voice pained.

She nods, dropping her head but not arguing, as though she blames herself for Marta’s death as much as I blame myself.

“I was so worried that you were dead too,” she whispers. As her tears slowly start falling, she adds in a small voice, “And I wouldn’t say I escaped unscathed.”

“Then explain to me what happened. Where the fuck were you and why did Sharkozi just let you go?” I reply, trying to remain unmoved by her emotions, tensing my body to stop myself from reaching out to her.

“I told Vova and Artem what happened, I thought you sent them to question me. Sharkozi didn’t let me go,” she says.

“I did ask them to question you, but now I want to hear it from you,” I reply, unmoved.

All I want to do is go to her, to comfort her and tell her I’m sorry, that she’s safe now. But I can’t allow my emotions to cloud my judgment. I need to remain objective. To her credit, Kim nods, seeming to understand my coldness.

Taking a deep breath she nods and gestures for us to sit. “This will take a while and I’m too weak to stand for a long time.”

She sits down and I hesitate, knowing that if I move to the chair beside her the proximity might make me crumble, but eventually, I give in and sit down. She takes a moment to compose herself before launching into her story. It lines up with what she told Artem and Vova, and for the most part, I can sense she’s telling the truth. But there are times when it feels as though she’s reciting lines from a script, or missing information out.

“Why aren’t you telling me everything?” I ask when she’s finally done.

Her eyes widen and she shifts uncomfortably, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. Why didn’t you mention your brother’s blackmailing you? That my sister sent him one million dollars the day she died?” I ask coldly.

Kim looks shocked, she obviously didn’t realize that I knew this. “I didn’t think it had anything to do with the kidnapping… I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to…” she says struggling to find the right words.

“You didn’t think there was a chance that your brother might be involved? That if he’s willing to blackmail his own sister then he might be willing to do more?” I say incredulously.

Kim looks as though this thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to her before.

“Did you know he signed your grandmother out of the nursing home? I assume you must have known since you haven’t once asked about her since you got here, the woman who raised you.”

Again, Kim looks confused. “Noah signed Gran out?”

I don’t even bother to reply to her, not now I’m on a roll. “And I suppose you also want me to believe that you didn’t know that your best friend Amelia, the woman you introduced me to, is married to Bogdan Sharkozi?” I say, dropping the bombshell that Artem came to me yesterday with. Other than Artem and I, no one else knows we’ve discovered this.

Kim tries to act surprised, but I can tell she already knew this, she’s always been terrible at masking her emotions, it’s one of the things I liked best about her. “I don’t—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” I shout, unable to control my frustration.

She flinches as though she’s scared I might hit her. Based on her appearance and her reactions, it’s evident that Kim was being held captive and has experienced some sort of trauma while she was gone, either that or she’s an Oscar-worthy actress. But then why would she lie to me? If she was really held captive and is innocent in all this, why wouldn’t she tell me the truth?

“Was it all a lie? Us? Were you working with Sharkozi this whole time?” I ask.

“No, I swear. Everything between us was real, I didn’t have anything to do with this. You have to believe me!” she exclaims, her eyes pleading.

“Then why are you hiding things, lying to me?” I demand.

“I can’t… I- I’m scared.”

“Of me?” I ask, feeling hurt.

“Of everything, of everyone. I don’t know who I can trust…” she replies, shrinking in on herself.

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