Flowers for Boris

Kiara:

“Yes, I would like the finest decor for the hall. Everything has to be perfect,” Zane says, ending the call as he opens the door to my room.

I pause brushing my hair, and turn to face him.

“You still haven’t learned to knock,” I say. He sighs and walks toward me with a blank expression.

“Kiara, I need a favor.” His voice is steady, but I raise an eyebrow. “Boris just got out of the hospital, and I need you to take some fruit to him on my behalf. I can’t make it; there are things I need to handle for the event. Please.”

I shrug. “Fine, no need to whine.” He ignores my remark, kisses the top of my head, and leaves.

I get up, preparing to go see Boris. A part of me wonders if I’ll be able to look past what he said two days ago. The only way I can do that is if I meet something even worse.

Once I’m dressed, I head downstairs to where a car is already waiting with the fruit basket on the seat where I am to sit. I get in, and the chauffeur drives away.

***

The drive to Boris’s villa