Chapter 13 "Come any closer and I'll scream." The words slip out in a whisper, but they might as well be a shout for all the good they do me. The massive silhouette by my window doesn't even flinch. My hand finds the door handle behind me, fingers wrapping around it so tight my knuckles ache. One wrong move and I'm gone. "I have no doubt you would." That voice. Deep and rough and completely unforgettable. The same voice that's been haunting my sleep for a week straight, turning my dreams into something shameful and depraved that I can't admit to anyone. "Kovan?" I fumble along the wall until I find the light switch, and suddenly, he's there in full view. Sharp jaw, green eyes that seem to see everything, hands that could snap me in half without breaking a sweat. Big hands. Very, very big hands. "Hello, Vesper. Fancy running into you here." "Is that supposed to be funny?" My heart is repeatedly hurling itself against my ribs. "What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" "I needed to talk to you." "So you broke in?" I want to sound angry, but mostly, I just sound breathless. "Most people knock first." His mouth curves up at one corner. "Good to know." I scoot back from him, as far away as I can get while still being in the same room. "I kept my mouth shut, okay? Nobody knows I was there when the shooting happened. I haven't said a word to anyone." I hesitate, then add, "Even though maybe I should have." One dark eyebrow lifts. "And why is that?" "Sonya and Adelaide." My voice cracks on their names. "The nurses who saw us together. What did you do to them?" He actually looks confused. Maybe even offended. "Excuse me?" "You heard me. They were both on duty that day. They both saw us. Now, they're both conveniently missing from work." "And you think I killed them." It's not a question. He says it flat and emotionless, and somehow, that makes it worse. "... Didn't you?" "Jesus, Vesper." He touches his jaw. "You really think I'd murder two innocent women to cover my tracks?" "It seems like something you'd do." "Well, I'm telling you right now that I didn't." "Then where are they?" I ask, half-yelling, half-pleading. "Because they're always working Friday mornings, and today, they were nowhere to be found." "They're on vacation," he says simply. "Sonya's in the Bahamas with her girlfriend. Five-star resort, private beach. Adelaide is in Switzerland with her family. All expenses paid." "Paid by whom?" That dangerous smile returns. "You think amnesia comes free?" As I start to understand, the air rushes out of my lungs. "You bribed them." "I prefer to think of it as compensation for their discretion." He leans back, completely relaxed in my home. "Both women were more than happy to sign the paperwork I put in front of them." "At gunpoint?" He shakes his head in dismay. "I don't need a gun to get what I want. Just this." He smiles then, full and devastating, and my entire body responds without permission. Heat pools low in my belly, my pulse kicks up, and I understand exactly how he got those women to agree to anything he asked. I'd sign on the dotted line, too. "Fine." I fold my arms over my chest, back on the defensive again. "So you didn't murder my coworkers. Congratulations on your restraint." "Thank you. I'm sure they'll send postcards from their five-star hotels." "So what do you want from me?" I retreat backward until I bump into the closed front door, still trying to maintain some kind of distance between us. "My own all-expenses-paid vacation in exchange for keeping quiet?" "Something better than that." He leans forward, and the space between us shrinks down to almost nothing again. "Much better." My stomach flips. "What kind of something?" "The kind you can't refuse." His eyes lock onto mine. "But first, I need to ask you something." "By all means, fire away." "Why have you filed so many complaints against the hospital board?" All that heat, that awareness, vanishes in an instant. "How do you know about that?" "I do my research before making deals, Dr. Fairfax." He rubs at the stubble on his chin. "Seems like you and Jeremy Fleming have some history." I know I shouldn't blow up, shouldn't show any weakness to this man. That would be like waddling up to a wolf, baring my throat, and saying, Here, have a bite; I'm delicious. But after the day I've had, I can't help it. I open my mouth to tell him that I don't particularly care for Mr. Fleming. What comes out is: "Jeremy Fleming is a preening, psychotic parasite who is actively destroying a hospital that's supposed to save lives. A greedy bastard who cares more about his bank account than our patients. He's a cancer and a curse and the world would be better off if he were dead. Better still if he went painfully." Kovan's eyes shine. "Tell me how." Again, I hesitate. The smart thing to do would be to retreat. Batten the hatches. But I haven't done the smart thing with this man since the moment we met. "Why?" I peel myself off the wall and venture half a step closer to him. "What are you going to do about it?" "Hopefully, everything." His face is serious. Composed. Intent. "But I need to know what I'm fighting first." "You think you can help me?" The hope in my voice is embarrassing, but I can't help it. "Tell me what Jeremy's doing, and we'll find out." I settle down in a chair and scoot to the edge of it, close enough that I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. Which I absolutely do not want to do. "He's stealing money from the hospital budget. Him and the rest of the board. They're getting rich while my equipment fails and my patients suffer." I have to pause to draw in a teary, rattling breath. "I almost lost a kid yesterday. The monitoring equipment malfunctioned because Jeremy won't approve repairs or replacements." A shadow passes over Kovan. His jaw tightens, his hands curl into fists, and I could almost swear I hear the thud of his pulse. "So Jeremy and his friends need to be dealt with." "I've tried filing complaints, but they control everything. They have all the power." "No." He shakes his head. "Not all of it." Now, it's my heartbeat that I can audibly detect. I glance down out of pure instinct, wondering if Kovan can see it thumping through my shirt. "What would you do?" "I can make the entire board disappear. Put you in a position to make real changes. I'll even throw in a donation big enough to outfit your pediatric ward with everything you've ever dreamed of." "I..." Can't. It's everything I've ever dreamed of, and if there were ever someone I'd believe could make it all happen, it's the man right in front of me. He's holding out a silver platter with revenge and justice heaped on top of it. All I have to do is say yes. But... But I know better. I know that nothing in this life is free and that there are always, always strings attached. In this case, they're the kinds of strings that might end up wrapped around my throat if I'm not careful. "What do you want in return?" I ask reluctantly. He doesn't hesitate. "A favor." "What kind of favor?" "You remember Luka." Of course I remember Luka. Sweet, brave Luka with his gray eyes and too-serious face. "Yes." "I need custody of him." Kovan's voice goes rough. "If he stays where he is, he's going to get hurt. Maybe killed." The sincerity in his voice catches me off-guard. Crazy as it sounds, I believe that Kovan's heart is pure. In this situation, at least. In the rest of them? Not so much. "I'm not sure how I can help with that," I say slowly. "I could write a medical report about his allergic reaction, document the neglect⁠-" "That won't be enough." His sharp tone makes me flinch. "Then I don't know what⁠-" "I've spoken with... legal counsel... and they've advised me that the court system favors stability. Traditional family units." He pauses, and I can see him choosing his words carefully. Which makes the next part all the more surprising for how blunt it is. "So I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend." I stare at him. Blink. Wait for the punchline. "You're joking." "I'm not." "That's..." I stand up so fast my chair rocks backward. "That's insane!" "It's practical." He doesn't move, doesn't even raise his voice. "A single man with my background doesn't inspire confidence in family court judges. But a man in a committed relationship? With a respectable doctor? That changes everything." "But we're- I'm- You're- We're strangers!" I blurt out in a near-shriek. "We've had one conversation, and there was a gun in your pocket with my name on it if I said anything out of line!" "That's irrelevant." "How is that irrelevant?" "Because this won't be real. It just has to look real." He stands, and just like that, he's huge and terrifying over top of me, close enough that I can smell his cologne, that I have to crane my neck all the way back just to meet his eyes. "This benefits both of us. You get your hospital cleaned up; I get my nephew safe. Everyone wins." "Everyone except Luka!" I back away from him, my heart racing for entirely different reasons now. "How do I know you're good for him? Maybe his mother⁠-" "His mother is the problem." The ice in his voice stops me cold. "I don't know anything about her," I continue arguing, but with less conviction than before. "What I do know is that you're dangerous. You carry guns, you get into shootouts in hospitals, you bribe people and break into apartments. Is that really the kind of environment an eight-year-old should be in?" "Luka is Bratva." He says it simply, like that explains everything. Like I even know what the hell that word means, beyond late-night mob documentaries and the occasional blood-spattered headline on the five o'clock news. "He was born into this life. The question isn't whether he'll be exposed to danger-it's who will protect him when he is." "That doesn't prove you're better for him." Kovan reaches into his jacket, and for a split second, I think he's going for a gun. Instead, he pulls out a manila envelope. "What does your conscience say about this?" he asks. He tosses the envelope onto my coffee table. It lands with a thump, like a guillotine blade hurtling home. My hands shake as I pick it up, break the seal, and pull out a stack of photographs. The first one steals the breath from my lungs. Luka, his small face covered in bruises. One eye swollen shut. Lip split and bloody. The second shows him in a hospital bed, his arm in a cast, tears streaming down his cheeks. The third captures him clinging to Kovan's shirt, his gray eyes wide with terror. "There's more." Kovan's voice sounds far away. Caught in a rage or a nightmare or a memory he wishes like hell he didn't have. "Medical records showing repeated hospitalizations for dehydration. Teachers' reports documenting him coming to school hungry, exhausted. Sometimes, he doesn't come at all. It's all in there, if you look." I flip through the photos with numb fingers. Each one is worse than the last. "If he's been hospitalized this much, Social Services would have been called," I whisper. "It's mandatory reporting." "His stepfather bribes the staff," explains Kovan. "Just like Jeremy bribes the board. Money talks and children suffer. You know that as well as anyone." The photos blur as tears fill my eyes. "These could be fake. Photoshopped." "What would convince you they're real?" I look up at him, this dangerous man who somehow has the power to save both Luka and my hospital. "Let me talk to him." "Done." No hesitation. "Tomorrow night. Luka loves the science museum. We'll meet there at eight." "It's closed at eight." That dangerous smile returns. "Not for me." He moves toward the door, and panic flutters in my chest. I don't want him to leave. Which is terrifying for about a dozen different reasons. "After you talk to Luka," he says, his hand on the doorknob, "you'll understand that I'm his best chance. His only chance." He turns to leave again. Before he can go, I mumble a question. He looks at me and raises one eyebrow. "Say that again." "How long?" I repeat. I clear my throat and try once more. "If I agree to this insane plan, how long would we have to pretend?" "Forty-five days." "That's it?" I don't know why I sound disappointed. "Just forty-five days to win a custody case?" "I have connections. Resources. But they can only take me so far." His green eyes find mine. "The rest depends on you." And there it is. The devil's deal laid bare, with that dotted line gleaming, empty, waiting. Forty-five days of pretending to be his girlfriend. Forty-five days of playing house with the most dangerous man I've ever met. Forty-five days of trying not to fall for someone who could destroy me without breaking a sweat, who would relish the chance to do exactly that. Forty-five days of heaven. Forty-five days of hell. "Tomorrow night," I hear myself say. "Eight o'clock." He nods. No smile. Not anymore. "I look forward to it, Doctor." Then he's gone, leaving me alone with photos of a broken little boy and the growing certainty that I'm about to make either the best or worst decision of my life. Only time will tell which it is.