Page 63 of Inked Athena

“That’s exactly the point.” I shiver in a sudden draft as cold wind batters the castle. “We’ll hit her where it counts: her ego.”

Hope still sounds skeptical as she taps her nails against her desk. “Do you really think a woman who left Chicago in order to protect herself from the men hunting her is going to be interested in being the face of a cosmetics brand?”

“No, probably not,” I confess. “But I’m hoping her ego will compel her to, at the very least, reply to our email. Maybe then we can track the IP address.”

Hope whistles. “I have to admit, you’re a little scary, Nova. Like a creepy mastermind.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Even better: it’s ayes, and,” she says. “As in,yes, I’ll do it,andyou have to create the fake email account. I get enough spam in my normal inbox as it is.”

Smiling widely, I turn back to the room just as the sun breaks through the clouds, sending rays of light dancing across the polished floor. The timing feels like an omen. The rain softens to a gentle patter, and somewhere in the distance, a rainbow arches over the hills.

“A little spam will be worth it to catch the bitch.”

An hour later, Myles is still a no-show, which means I’m still on the phone with Hope. We’ve spent the last forty minutes cackling about our email to Katerina.

“I hope she reads this again one day—if they allow email in hell, that is—and realizes how many times you actually insulted her,” Hope snorts. “Like, this line: ‘You’re as brilliant as you are beautiful, which makes you the perfect candidate for our campaign.’God, it’s truly inspired.”

“Why, thank you. You’re too kind.” I bow despite the fact that Hope can’t actually see me. “Do you think she’ll reply?”

“Honestly, I don’t even care. It was a fun afternoon. I miss doing stupid shit with you.”

“But what if it’s not just stupid shit? What if this works?” I sit on the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. “What if she actually responds?”

“Then Jerry traces the IP address and we hand it over to your baby daddy’s team of super-spies.” Hope pauses. “Speaking of which, how are we going to explain this if it does work?”

My stomach clenches. “We’re not. Samuil can’t know.”

“Nova…”

“He’d lock me in this tower and throw away the key if he knew I was trying to track down Katerina.”

“Maybe he should.” Hope’s voice turns serious. “This isn’t some mean girl from high school we’re dealing with. She’s actually dangerous.”

“So am I.” The words come out fiercer than I intended. “I’m tired of being helpless. Of watching the people I love get hurt while I sit here playing princess in a castle.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m not made of glass.”

Hope sighs. “No, you’re made of pure stubborn spite. Just… promise me you’ll be careful? I need my best friend in one piece.”

I’m about to respond when, suddenly, a message notification pops up on my laptop screen. My heart stops.

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“What? What is it?”

“She replied.”

24

SAMUIL

My rage points me to her like a compass with its needle fixed on hell.

I storm into the barn, that fury burning through my veins. Nova sits on a hay bale by the doors, surrounded by puppies, her hair glowing in the afternoon light. The sight of her—pregnant, peaceful, perfect—threatens to douse my anger.

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