Page 85 of Inked Adonis

Which, to be clear, I am. Very.

But she doesn’t need to know that.

And fourth and finally, it’s too late. Katerina waves an arm over her head. It looks like a normal enough greeting, but it’s probably some signal to the hitman she has hanging from a tree above me. I wince, waiting for a piano to fall on my head.

But… nothing.

“Nola!” Katerina calls, waving again.

Is she…smiling?!

It’s gotta be a sinister sort of thing. She must be grinning, thinking about how the gigantic diamonds encrusting each of her knuckles will look imprinted on my cheekbone. Jewelry that big can’t be just for show; they’re weapons.

Rufus makes a sound that can only be described as a miserable groan. Once again, he is so damn relatable.

Katerina stops in front of me, her wedged high heels squeaking to a stop on the pavement. “I was hoping to run into you, Nora.”

“Nova,” I correct, clinging a little tighter to the leashes in my hand.

Ruby and the two other dogs are pulling towards Katerina, anxious for an introduction. Rufus is pulling in the opposite direction, because he knows better.

“Right, of course. Nova.”

Then she smiles.

Again.

At me.

I wait for the crack of lightning or for air raid sirens to start blaring. Surely, Katerina smiling at me is an end-of-days level omen.

I take a few steps back on sheer instinct.

So much for pretending I’m not scared of her.

As I do, though, Rufus growls.

Katerina looks down at him, her smile sharpening. “Hello there, boy.”

She reaches out to pet him, but Rufus ducks between my legs, his entire body rumbling.

She simply laughs like it’s some funny bit. “Still as shy as ever, I see. Silly dog.”

Smart dogwould be more accurate. I wish it was socially acceptable for me to growl at her.

Since it isn’t, I aim for a quick exit. “Sorry, but I’m a little busy.” I gesture to the dogs. “Dogs to walk, ya know?”

“Wonderful. I’ll walk with you.”

I blink at her silently, since screaming, “No!” and making the sign of the cross feels extreme.

She walks past me with a flip of her golden blonde hair. I’ve never seen someone look quite so fabulous for a midday stroll through the park. Her clothes are French haute couture, whereas most of mine come fromLeThrift Store.

I still want to hightail it in the other direction, but I do the adult thing and follow after her, schlepping all four dogs along with me, because what choice do I have?

Fall in Chicago is normally a nice time of year—leaves turning, air turning crisp and refreshing, sky as blue as it ever is. But right now, it’s like the backdrop to a nightmare. Katerina has a funny way of making nice things—smiles, autumn—seem like the evilest shit anyone has ever dreamed up.

She wastes no time in cutting to the chase. “I hear you’re dating my ex-husband.”

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