Kris’s head bobs absently as he closes the folder, looking at me directly.
“What else?”
My brows knit together. “What do you mean, what else? That’s it.”
He sits back in his chair, the folder held loosely in one hand as he watches me.
“I know you, Galina,” he says, the name once again making me bristle, “Something’s been going on with you. What is it?”
My jaw clenches shut, and he sighs, reaching his hand across the desk toward me.
“We’re family, trust me.”
“Since when did family count for anything?” I ask bitterly.
“Since we’ve been through all we have.” His voice is softer than I’ve heard in a long time and for just a moment, I remember who he was when we were children.
Despite myself, I feel a small crack inside my black heart. I bring my hand out to his, clasping tightly.
“I don’t know,” I finally admit, my head dropping. “Maybe it’s just dealing with all these clients lately, but I keep thinking about … things.”
“What things?” he presses. I shift in my seat, unused to having this type of conversation with anyone, even Krystof.
Shrugging, I reply, “Vasily, Dmitri, when we were apart after that. Just ... all of it.”
Kris nods as though that makes perfect sense.
“They’re all long dead,” he states the obvious, not knowing that after all these years, I still feel that scarred heartache where Dmitri held my love.
“You think he’d approve of what we’re doing? Where CASH-ULTY is headed?”
Kris gives me a strange look, squeezing my hand before releasing it and pulling back to lean in his chair. “Since when do you care about what others would think about this? You know I don’t judge you, right?”
I give him a wry smile. “It was only ever him.”
I don’t fail to see the hurt on his face before there is a knock at the door. Kris shoots me a look before going to the door, opening it.
The change in his posture immediately gives away who is on the other side, tension forming across Kris’s body.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he demands, and I have to resist laughing.
“Let him in, Kris,” I order from across the room. He stands there a moment, straightening his spine before he throws the door open and Sin steps in. He barely glances at Kris which I’m sure only infuriates him further, instead walking right up to my desk.
For the first time, I’m seeing him in somewhat normal clothes, jeans and a black CASH-ULTY shirt we left out for him. Somehow it looks stranger than the expanse of scars I’ve gotten used to seeing. Sin smirks as he takes in my inspection.
“Like what you see?” he goads, and I roll my eyes, turning my attention back to Kris.
“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
His features darken before he turns, walking out with the door slamming behind him. Sin’s smirk grows as he points a thumb toward the door.
“Don’t think he likes me much.”
I snort a small laugh. “Sit down, asshole.”
To my surprise, Sin listens without any more talking back, leaning forward on his knees in the chair Kris just occupied.
“So, boss, what’s on the docket?”