Chapter 18 The sound of a key in the door puts the fear of God in me. Only one person has that key. Unless... "Coffee!" Charity announces, bursting through my door with the energy of someone who's already had three cups. "And before you say you don't need any, yes, you do. You look like death warmed over." Glad it's my best friend and not the man I can't stop thinking about, I gesture weakly toward the French press. "Already made some." "Good girl." She drops a bakery box on my counter with a thud. "Croissants. Day-old, but they'll do. When's the last time you ate actual food?" "I eat." "Coffee beans don't count as food, V." She pours herself a mug and settles across from me at my tiny kitchen table. The silence unfolds between us until she can't stand it anymore. So, nine or ten seconds, give or take. "Okay, what's wrong? And don't say 'nothing,' because you get this little crease between your eyebrows when you're spiraling. Right there." I touch my forehead instinctively. "I'm not spiraling." "Then what's that?" She points at the exact spot I just touched. God, she knows me too well. We've been friends since elementary school, when she moved in across the street and decided I needed saving from my own introversion. Some things never change. "I... might have done something stupid." Her eyes light up. "Finally! I've been waiting years for you to do something stupid. What is it? Please tell me you keyed Jeremy's car." "Worse." "Better," she corrects, leaning forward. "Spill it." I take a long sip of coffee, buying time. But there's no backing out now. If I don't tell someone about this insane arrangement with Kovan, I'm going to explode. "Remember the shooting at the hospital a few weeks ago?" "Of course. Thank God you weren't working that day." "Actually..." I clear my throat. "I was there." Charity blinks. "What do you mean, 'you were there'?" "I mean I was in the middle of it. With a patient. And..." I pause, knowing how crazy this is going to sound. "I might have saved a mob boss's nephew." The coffee mug she's sipping from stops at her lips. "I'm sorry, what?" So I tell her everything. The whole insane story tumbles out of me-Kovan, Luka, the shootout, the dinner, the museum. By the time I finish, Charity is staring at me like I've grown a second head. "Let me get this straight," she says slowly. "You performed emergency surgery during a gunfight?" "It wasn't surgery, exactly. More like⁠-" "And then had dinner with a Russian mob boss?" "Technically, he kidnapped me first." "Vesper." Her voice is deadly serious now. "What the hell were you thinking?" "I wasn't thinking. That's the point." I bury my face in my hands. "I just... When I saw that little boy struggling to breathe, everything else disappeared. I had to help him." "Okay, I get that part. You're a doctor. It's what you do." She sets down her mug with careful precision. "But what I don't get is why you're still involved with them." This is the part I've been dreading. "Because Kovan made me an offer." "What kind of offer?" I take a deep breath. "He wants me to pretend to be his girlfriend for forty-five days. To help him get custody of Luka." Charity's jaw drops. "Are you insane?" "Maybe." "No, not 'maybe.' Definitely." She stands up so fast her chair scrapes against the floor. "Vesper, this man is dangerous. You said so yourself." "He's not dangerous to me." "How can you possibly know that?" Because of the way he looked at Luka. Because of how gentle his hands were when he cleaned my wound. Because every instinct I have is telling me to trust him, even though, logically, I know I shouldn't. "I just do." "That's not an answer." "It's the only one I have." Charity starts pacing my tiny kitchen. "What's he offering you in return?" "He's going to take down Jeremy and the board." She stops mid-pace. "He can do that?" All I can do is shrug. "Apparently." "How?" "I don't know. I didn't ask for details." "Jesus, Ves." She sinks back into her chair. "This is so far beyond stupid, it's not even on the same planet as stupid." "I know." "Do you? Because I don't think you do." Her voice softens. "You could lose everything. Your job, your medical license, your entire career. Is it worth it?" I think about Luka's gray eyes. In my mind's eye, I see the puckered burn mark on his neck. My own skin starts to singe from within, right on the same spot, a pang of sympathy pain that guarantees my answer before it even passes my lips. "Yes," I say. "It's worth it." "Even if it ruins you?" "Even then." Charity studies my face for a long moment. "You care about him. The boy." "Of course I care about him. He's eight years old and he's being abused." "And his uncle?" My phone buzzes once on the table between us, saving me from having to answer. Kovan's name flashes on the screen. I wonder if he felt his ears burning. "It's the hospital," I lie, grabbing the phone. "On your day off?" "Emergency." She doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't push. I unlock my phone and read Kovan's message. KOVAN: Showtime. Just received word that there's a social worker coming in an hour. Need you here. My stomach drops. This is really happening. This is really, truly, actually happening. "I have to go," I tell Charity, already standing. She doesn't even argue. She knows me better than that. "Be careful, Ves. Please." "I will." But as I grab my keys and rush out the door, I know I'm lying to both of us. There's nothing careful about what I'm doing. There's only Kovan, and Luka, and the growing certainty that I'm in way over my head. VESPER: Be there soon.