Saturday. Washington, DC.
KONSTANTIN LOOKED ACROSS THE table at the woman who had birthed him and felt nothing. After all these years, he'd have expected to have intense feelings about her. Instead, he only had apathy.
She hadn't been a good mother. There was no arguing the point. But she had brought Ivana into his life and she was more of a mother to him than Natasha could ever hope to be.
That was why he would always forgive Ivana. She wasn't just an employee, she was family. And he would never turn his back on her. Especially not for continuing to love his mother.
Natasha glanced up from her plate.
It was coming...
She daubed at her face with a napkin.
He braced himself for her next comment or observation or humorous memory.
"You're even quiet like him," she said with a little s
