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She sped down the winding roads of Naples, her vision blurred by tears.
She’d ruined everything. She didn’t even understand how it had unraveled so quickly. One moment, she was bidding farewell to Goncharov at the piano as he left to meet Andrei, and the next, she was wrapped in Sofia’s warm embrace, her soft lips pressing against her own.
Her body trembled with a sensation her husband had never stirred in her. A tingling spread low in her stomach, and her throat tightened with every breath. Sofia’s hands clasped her sweaty palms, guiding them gently to trace the contours of her jaw, to tangle in her dark hair. It was so soft—like velvet brushing against her skin.
She pressed the pedal harder, the Aston Martin growling in response as the engine surged. Speeding out of the city, far past the limit, she realized she had no destination.
After that kiss, she grabbed the car keys and fled, desperate to disappear. Father Gianni’s sermon came to mind, his warnings about resisting earthly temptations.
And yet, the entire conversation kept replaying in her head.
"I’ve noticed the way you look at me, Yekaterina," Sofia murmured, her hand brushing through her hair.
She always used her full name when she wanted to command her attention. It worked every time.
But Katya had stiffened, unsure, at that moment, of what Sofia meant. Their last encounter had been anything but peaceful.
Sofia’s deep, dark pupils studied her with an intensity that sent shivers racing down her spine. Ever since the incident on the boat. When Sofia had nearly drowned her. Katya had kept her distance. Time had frozen during those moments. Even though she’d forgiven her friend in her heart, she couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened.
"On the boat," Sofia continued, undeterred by the silence. "We had… a moment."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sofia," Katya replied, swaying her hips in her crimson dress, trying to feign nonchalance. But she couldn’t escape the touch. She didn’t want to.
"Don’t play coy with me. If the situation hadn’t been so tense… we were seconds away. I saw it in your eyes. You wanted to do it."
"Do what?"
"Kiss me."
"I…"
"And I wanted you to. But you didn’t."
Her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to deny it, but as she replayed that painful moment, she knew Sofia was right. She had wanted to.
After everything she’d been through with Goncharov, her faith in him was shattered. The needless killings, the nights drowned in tears.
Sofia had always understood her. Sofia had been there. She was stronger than anyone Katya had ever known. Life had forged her that way, proven by the prosthetic leg she wore instead of her right one. She was Katya’s anchor. Her best friend.
Until it all fell apart.
Katya said nothing. She didn’t want to confirm it, but her silence was confession enough.
Sofia smirked, closing the distance between them with a few deliberate steps. When her hand touched Katya’s cheek, it was warm. And then, like a curtain falling, everything else disappeared.
The kiss lasted only a few heartbeats, but it meant more than every kiss she’d ever shared with Goncharov.
Katya’s hands shook against the steering wheel, adrenaline surging through her veins, her thoughts racing. Was this what she wanted? Her lips still tingled. She kept licking them, as though Sofia’s taste might linger there forever.
She wiped her tears away, losing focus for a moment.
In that split second, she barely managed to jerk the wheel when a black cat darted into the road. The car screeched, skidding sideways, crashing into the guardrail with a bone-jarring thud. The impact hurled her body into the steering wheel, the screech of metal piercing her ears as something rattled near the rear blinker. Her necklace snapped, the pearls scattering around her feet and the pedals.
Her head throbbed. One last flicker of memory flashed: a smiling woman’s face framed by a green scarf.
It took her a moment to reorient herself. Her pulse pounded loudly in her ears as she glanced over her shoulder. Barely five feet behind the bumper, the road dropped off into a sheer cliff.
She gasped for air.
If she had died here, she wouldn’t have even had the chance to say goodbye to Sofia. She wouldn’t have confessed how deeply she felt for her. She would’ve died a coward, running from her demons and leaving Sofia behind. Heartbroken, betrayed.
Cheating death changes your priorities.
Katya wasn’t going to run anymore. She was the goddamned wife of a feared mobster, an experienced spy who had lived on the streets.
She might have looked like a fragile flower, but she had never been a stranger to violence.
She exhaled deeply. She knew what she had to do. She would go back and face it all head-on. She would hope Sofia would listen. And maybe, just maybe, this time it would go further than an innocent kiss.