Chapter 9
Dimitri looked up from his brooding. "Did you find the father?"
"No, the birth certificate lists 'Unknown'. But we found a photo of Dr. Anti."
Dimitri sat up straighter. "Show me."
Lars placed a grainy photo on the desk. It was taken five years ago in a hospital in Switzerland. It showed a figure in surgical scrubs, back to the camera, performing surgery.
The figure was... large. Heavy-set.
"This is Anti?" Dimitri asked.
"Confirmed by three sources on the dark web. Anti is a woman. And... well, she was significantly overweight at the time."
Dimitri stared at the photo. He traced the outline of the figure. A heavy woman. Five years ago.
His mind flashed to the old photos of Katarina. The resemblance in body type was undeniable.
"It's a match," Dimitri murmured. "Physically, at least."
"Sir?" Lars asked. "You think Ms. Acosta is Anti? But she's... well, look at her now. And Anti is a neurosurgeon. Ms. Acosta has a degree in Art History."
"People change, Lars. Bodies change. And degrees can be bought or faked." Dimitri tapped the photo. "But the skill gap is the problem. You don't learn to perform experimental neurosurgery in a few years while dealing with a pregnancy and a weight loss journey. It's improbable."
He leaned back, his eyes cold. "But improbable isn't impossible. Keep digging. And don't stop looking for the girl's father. If Katarina is Anti, she's hiding more than just medical skills. She's hiding a life."
"Understood, sir."
Next door, Katarina looked at herself in the mirror. She touched her flat stomach.
"Thank god for old photos," she whispered.
Her phone rang. Candi.
Katarina put it on speaker while she painted her toenails.
"What do you want, Candi? I'm busy plotting world domination."
"You're going to be destroyed tomorrow!" Candi shrieked. "I called The Sun. They're running a story about your teen pregnancy. About how you were a whore!"
"Yawn," Katarina said. "Is that it?"
"And... and I heard about that Dr. Anti person Dimitri is looking for. They say she's a fat cow. Just like you used to be! Maybe you're related!"
Katarina smiled. The rumor she had planted years ago was working perfectly. "Goodbye, Candi."
She hung up.
"Mommy, can we get pizza?" Kaylee asked.
"Yes. But we have to wear disguises."
They put on hoodies and sunglasses. They opened the door.
Dimitri was in the hall, waiting for the elevator. He was alone.
He looked at Katarina. His gaze was different now. Less suspicious, more... calculating. He was dissecting her, layer by layer.
They got into the elevator.
Katarina stared at the numbers.
Kaylee's stomach growled. Loudly.
Dimitri glanced down. He saw the little girl rubbing her tummy.
Without a word, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pristine, white silk handkerchief.
"Wipe your mouth," he said to Kaylee. "You have chocolate on your chin from earlier."
Kaylee took it. "Thanks, Grumpy Mister."
"Kaylee," Katarina scolded gently.
"It's fine," Dimitri said. He looked at Katarina. "You should feed her more."
"I feed her plenty," Katarina snapped. "She has a high metabolism. Unlike some people's egos."
The doors opened.
"Keep the handkerchief," Dimitri said, walking away.
Katarina looked at the white silk. It was embroidered with D.S.
She felt a pang. He was kind to the child. He just hated the mother.
---
Chapter 10
Katarina sat on the floor of the suite, wiping tomato sauce off Kaylee's face.
"That man is a monster," Katarina muttered. "A brain-damaged, arrogant, suit-wearing monster."
The balcony door was open to let in the breeze.
Next door, Dimitri was smoking a cigar on his balcony. The partition between them was high, but sound traveled.
He heard every word.
Brain-damaged? He narrowed his eyes. Monster?
He wanted to shout back, "I can hear you!" But that would be petty. He took a drag of his cigar, fuming. He crushed the cigar out, checked his watch, and decided he'd had enough of her voice for one night. He slid the glass door shut and locked it, retreating into the soundproof cool of his suite.
Inside, Katarina put Kaylee to bed. "Goodnight, bug."
"Night, Mommy."
Katarina went into the bathroom to shower.
As soon as the water turned on, Kaylee's eyes popped open. She grabbed her tablet and crept to the balcony door.
She peeked out. The man next door was gone. The lights on his balcony were off.
Safe.
On the other side of the frosted glass partition, she saw a shadow.
"Psst," she hissed.
A head popped up from the other side. Draven.
He climbed up on a patio chair so he could see over the railing gap.
Kaylee climbed on her chair.
They stared at each other in the moonlight.
"Your dad gave me a hanky," Kaylee whispered. She held up the silk square.
Draven nodded. He held up a piece of paper. He had drawn a picture of Katarina holding him. He pressed it against the glass.
"He likes you," Kaylee interpreted. "He just doesn't know it."
Draven nodded vigorously.
"My mom thinks your dad is a monster," Kaylee said. "But she kept the hanky. She put it in her purse."
Draven's eyes widened. He typed on his iPad and held it up.
SWITCH.
Kaylee squinted. "Switch?"
Draven typed again. Tomorrow. Stairwell. 9 AM.
Kaylee gasped. "Like in the movies?"
Draven nodded. He pointed to himself, then at her. Same face.
"But I talk too much," Kaylee whispered. "And you don't talk at all."
I try, Draven typed. For her.
Kaylee felt a shiver. "And I will be quiet. For him."
The water in the bathroom turned off.
"Gotta go!" Kaylee scrambled down.
Draven disappeared.
Katarina walked out, drying her hair. She checked the balcony door. It was open. She locked it.
"Weird," she murmured.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Francis.
9:00 AM. Lawyer's office. Be there or I burn the rest of the photos.
Katarina stared at the city lights. Francis could wait. First, she needed leverage. She needed his weak link.
"Tomorrow," she said to the night. "Everything changes."
Next door, Dimitri put out his cigar. He looked at the balcony divider.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I find out the truth."
And in their beds, two identical children smiled identical smiles, dreaming of chaos.
---
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