Chapter 87
The world twisted into a nauseating vortex of emerald and obsidian light before ejecting Svetlana onto a meticulously manicured lawn that gently sloped toward the calm, dark waters of a secluded lake. The air was crisp and clean, smelling of pine needles, damp earth, and the faintest trace of woodsmoke. Katarina appeared a second later, her initial expression of distaste replaced by one of cynical appraisal as she surveyed their surroundings: a stunning, modern A-frame house made of dark cedar and expansive panes of glass that reflected the twilight sky. It was a picture of serene, wealthy isolation.
“Where are we?” Katarina asked.
“Ethan’s lake house, that he gifted to his mistress,” Svetlana remarked, her Russian accent dripping with sarcasm.
Katarina looked at Svetlana to
