Page 18 of Sinful Embers

Nikolas stands abruptly, his gaze sharpening. “Is that what I think it is?”

Sabrina snatches the document before he can. “Holy shit,” she mutters, her tone awestruck as she looks up at Nikolas. “This is your father’s will.” She points to the header. “Look—Gold Key Legal Group.”

Nikolas takes the document from her, his expression hardening. “Have you been carrying this around with you?” His voice is sharp, laced with accusation.

“I’ve been keeping it safe, moving it between secure locations,” I explain. “Until I can get to my bank and put it in a safety deposit box.”

“You need to contact your mother,” Nikolas orders. “She’ll need to coordinate with Gold and Key, and all three of them have to know what’s going on.” He pauses, then adds, “And make sure Galina keeps my mother out of this.”

“Why?” I snap, glaring at him. “My mother can be involved, but not yours?”

“Alexandra isn’t well,” Sabrina interjects before Nikolas can respond. She frowns, glancing between us. “She’s actually staying here at the hotel—in the VIP suite. You know, the one you keep for high-profile guests with targets on their backs.”

My eyes narrow. “How do you know that?”

Sabrina shrugs. “My mother. I overheard her on the phone with your mother. I think she forgets I’m fluent in Russian.”

“You speak Russian?” The words escape me before I can stop them. I shouldn’t be surprised—Carla Craft is Russian—but Sabrina never ceases to catch me off guard.

“I do,” she replies, unbothered. “And Greek. Italian, Spanish, French, German, Dutch, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese…” She starts counting off languages on her fingers. “Oh, and I’m learning Farsi.”

“Jesus Christ.” I stare at her. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you have better things to do? Don’t you get enough sex?”

Sabrina laughs, shaking her head. “No, I get plenty. I just like learning.”

Nikolas clears his throat, his discomfort palpable. “As fascinating as this conversation is—and awkward, considering Sabrina is like a daughter to me—can we focus?”

For the first time, I see Nikolas Vasilikis truly uncomfortable. My mind drifts to Leigh, unbidden. Fuck. I miss her. My cock twitches, my heart jolts, and my thoughts spiral into worry. I force myself to refocus. If I want her back, I need to stay sharp.

“Could the will be the golden key?” I ask Nikolas again, needing confirmation.

He hesitates, his expression thoughtful. “It could be.” he shrugs. “That’s Leigh’s copy of the will, and she’ll need it to claim her inheritance. But there’s also something else…” He glances down, looking almost sheepish. “She’ll need a passcode.”

Sabrina and I speak simultaneously. “What passcode?”

Nikolas looks pained for a moment before he answers. “It’s a song I wrote for her. A short, four-line lullaby.”

Sabrina’s eyes light up. “Oh, oh! Is it the one about the little duchess—”

“Yes,” Nikolas interrupts curtly. “That one. But there’s no mention of a gold key in the song.” He glances at the will again. “This document holds additional cryptic clues. Gold and Key will ask her questions to verify her identity before inviting her for a meeting.”

“Invite her?” I ask, baffled. “Who the fuck are they, royalty or something?”

“They may as well be,” Nikolas replies. “The firm exclusively serves Matriarch and Archontis.”

“Oh, that kind of royalty,” Sabrina quips, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Snobs. And why do you call them Gold and Key?”

“Their names are Giles Gold and Parker Keys.”

“Of course they are.” Sabrina rolls her eyes.

As Nikolas hands the will back to me, my eyes skim over the document, searching for anything that might stand out. Sabrina leans over, clearly reading my intent, and taps her finger on the paper.

“At a guess, I’d say it has something to do with the mix of metric and imperial measurements—and the weird UK and US date formats.”

I blink at her, startled. “What the fuck? How did you even spot that?”

She shrugs, the corner of her mouth twitching into a small, self-satisfied smile. “I’m good with cryptic shit.”

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