“How do we know you’re not going to drug us?” Rosalie accuses, looking torn as she shoots suspicious looks at Ivan and longing glances at the steak.
“Darling, if I wanted you unconscious, I’d just call Nico back with the tranquilizer gun.”
It takes me about two seconds to realize Ivan’s joking. His lips twitch before he bursts out laughing. The man can joke. Who knew?
“Please, eat,” he requests sincerely. “The sandwiches you ate on the way here were merely an appetizer. And I know it’s late, but after dinner, I have a doctor coming to check you over.”
Rosalie frowns. “A doctor? Like a real one?”
“Yes.”
I give her a tight smile as I cover her hand with mine. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Which part?”
“The food and the doctor.”
“You trust him?” Rosalie asks, talking about her father like he’s not in the room. Ivan’s jaw ticks, but it’s the only outward sign that he’s annoyed.
“When it comes to you? Yeah,” I answer. “I really do think he wants what’s best for you.”
“Then he should’ve let us go. He shouldn’t have sent his thugs to hunt us down like dogs. He shouldn’t have put a fucking tracker in my arm.”
“I can deactivate the tracker,” Ivan interjects with sad eyes. “In fact, once you’ve had time to recover from this ordeal, I’ll have my doctor remove it all together. Rosalie.” It’s the first time he’s said her false name, but he does it with sincerity. “You have every right to be angry. I did what I did because I was desperate. You have to understand—I didn’t even know about you until you were four years old, and then I didn’t know where you were. You had… vanished. Imagine waiting and worrying for as long as I have.”
Rosalie blinks at the new information. Information I withheld from her for a reason. “So you’ve never met me before? Even when I was a baby?”
“No, darling.”
“My mom told me you left us.”
“I didn’t. I couldn’t have, since I was never with you in the first place.”
“So my mom kept me a secret from you?”
We’re getting dangerously close to the truth and Ivan knows it.
He just nods and says, “I searched for you for years. I couldn’t find you, but not for lack of trying. If you hadn’t gone to the hospital this past spring, I still wouldn’t know where you were.”
Seeming to come to a conclusion—a wrong one, but still one that makes sense to her—Rosalie sighs. “So my mom hid me to keep me away from you? From all this?” She waves a hand around at the house, but it’s clear she means Ivan’s job.
“Among other things,” Ivan confirms. “Loralee Pearson isn’t… sane.”
“You got that right.” Snorting, Rosalie loosens up a little, pointing her fork at Ivan. “It’s a good thing you tolerate crazy chicks because I’m no picnic myself.”
“Darling, you’re not like her. You do know that, yes?”
“Yeah, I’m realizing that.”
“Well, I’m not like that woman either.” Ivan can’t keep the contempt out of his voice. “I’m not going to hold you captive. All I’ve ever wanted for you is a good life. If that means caring for you from afar, then I can do that.”
“Afar? Like, you don’t want me to stay?” Rosalie’s face is skeptical as she cuts her steak. She doesn’t believe him, and for good reason. Ivan’s done nothing to gain her trust, but I can tell he wants it.
Sighing, he suddenly looks tired. “I know you shouldn’t be here. My lifestyle is dangerous. I can’t offer you the independence and the adventures Etha—I mean, Preston can. But I’d like to help you both, if you’ll let me. Let’s make a compromise we’ll all be happy with.”
“Deals usually come with stipulations.” Sitting up straighter, I say, “I’m going to need you to elaborate.”
“In light of the recent discovery that you’re married,” Ivan gestures to us, “I’m going to extend an opportunity. I can give you the means to be comfortable. Money.”
“Illegally obtained money,” I deadpan.
“Gray money,” Ivan contradicts.
“What’s the difference?”
“What would you say if I told you I donate forty percent of what I make to charities?”
“You do?” Rosalie asks softly.
Ivan turns his eyes to her. “Yes. I’d be lying if I said my generosity is completely selfless. I did it for you. To find you. I figured it couldn’t hurt to be involved with places you might go. Food banks, shelters, schools. Hospitals—every Christmas, I anonymously pay off hefty medical bills for people who can’t afford it. It makes me a popular man and gives me a certain amount of influence.” He glances my way. “Would you consider me a better person if I made my fortune through something boring, like banking, but kept it all for myself?”
Gray world. He’s right about that. We’re getting into the messy topic of ethics, and I’m definitely not an expert.
“On my dime, you can get an education,” he continues. “A home somewhere far away where you’ll be free from danger. More specifically, one of my vacation homes. You can live there cost-free. All I ask is that you keep the place up and let me visit a couple times a year.”
Rosalie glances at me. I’ve seen that look before. The hope in her eyes.
In a silent exchange, we consider the option as we try to read each other.
A twitch of Rosalie’s lips. What do you think?
I rub my jaw. It’s not bad.
A shrug of her shoulders. I wouldn’t hate it.
A subtle nod of agreement. If that’s what you want.
I look to Ivan. His presentation sounds like a pretty sweet setup, but if we go along with this, I have to lay some ground rules. “There can be no illegal activity in or near the house.”
“Of course,” he agrees.
“And no one can know where we are.”
“Absolutely.”
“And if we choose to leave at any point, we’re free to go, no questions asked.”
Ivan hesitates. His gaze bounces to Rosalie, and I can see a genuine pleading there. He wants this. A connection to family. And he’s afraid to lose it.
I think he’s about to say yes when his cell phone rings. Picking it up off the table, he answers it. Although it’s not on speaker, a frantic male voice comes through.
“Boss, there’s an issue.”
“What?” Ivan barks, scooting his seat away from the table to stand.
“An altercation between Nico and Donovan. Nico and I tried to bring Donovan in. He resisted. Shots were fired…”
That’s all I hear before Ivan’s too far away for me to catch more of the conversation, but I watch his body language. He’s tense, his shoulder muscles bunched inside his white suit jacket. His knuckles lose color from gripping the phone so tight.
“He’s not the only one who can track a person. Tap into his GPS and find him. I’ll deal with him tomorrow.” Ivan hangs up. Smiling as if nothing’s amiss, he turns toward us. “Let’s finish dinner and discuss the future.”