Making Her Mine

Chapter 1: Dust, Detergent, & Destiny

The scent of citrus cleaner clung to the air, dancing with the soft hum of the vacuum as Katrina ran a cloth along the edge of the minibar. The suite they were cleaning sparkled already, but she knew better than to cut corners—The Grand Palace may have welcomed all kinds of guests, but it was still owned by a man who didn't tolerate imperfection.

"Okay, spill."

Nina's voice broke through the silence, playful and accusing. She was leaning against the freshly fluffed pillows, arms crossed over her navy-blue uniform. "What are you doing tonight? And if you say 'laundry and cartoons,' I swear I'll scream."

Katrina smirked, not looking up. "Laundry and cartoons. Followed by a wild session of trying to get Kyle to stop putting Legos in the microwave."

Nina groaned dramatically, tossing herself back onto the bed. "You're wasting your prime years, Kat. There are actual vampires out there living their best lives—throwing rooftop parties, feeding on models, wearing thousand-dollar boots—and you're microwaving plastic?"

"I'm also making dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets." Katrina deadpanned.

Nina sat up, her expression softening just a little. "Look, I know you're a mom first. And you're amazing at it. But your mom could watch the boys for a few hours, right?"

Katrina finally looked over. "Nina—"

"Don't 'Nina' me." Her friend's tone turned firm. "You deserve to go out, dance, have a drink, maybe flirt with someone tall, dark, and broody. Hell, maybe even get bitten if he's hot enough."

Katrina laughed, shaking her head. "You're obsessed."

"I study," Nina corrected with a grin. "Ever since the Reveal, I've been devouring everything I can about vamps, wolves, fae—don't roll your eyes. We literally live in a world where your boss could be a thousand years old and drinks blood between meetings."

Katrina arched a brow. "Samuel? You think he's a vampire?"

Nina shrugged. "Please. No one that calm during a health inspection is human."

Katrina bit back a smile, reaching for the clean towels. "You should've been a journalist."

"Or a vampire groupie."

They both laughed, the tension of the long shift easing for a moment. But underneath the teasing, Katrina felt the familiar twinge of guilt and longing. Nights out weren't just rare—they were a luxury she didn't allow herself.

Two boys at home. Rent to pay. A job that barely covered the bills. And a past she tried very hard not to remember.

"I'll think about it," Katrina finally said, folding the last towel into a perfect square.

Nina's eyes lit up. "That's all I needed to hear."

They moved methodically around the luxury suite, Katrina wiping down the marble counter while Nina tackled the mirrored wardrobe, pausing every few seconds to glance over her shoulder.

"Okay, real question," Nina said, tossing a silk throw pillow back in place. "If you could meet any Otherkind, who would it be?"

Katrina blinked. "Otherkind?"

"It's what people call them now—y'know, vampires, werewolves, fae, all the stuff that used to be fantasy until it wasn't. Sounds cooler than 'supernaturals', don't you think?"

Katrina laughed softly, shaking her head. "God, I haven't even thought about that."

Nina dropped her cloth dramatically. "What? You live in a world where literal blood-drinking immortals walk into our lobby and you've never once wondered which one you'd want to meet?"