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"Croque-monsieur, it's a French sandwich with—"
"I know what it is. I'm just—I'm just wondering why."
"Now, now, Audrey," he clicked his tongue, "You're judging. It reminds me of my childhood. Back then when my father would punish me—and I was punished a lot since I always covered for my siblings—Anton, my brother Mikhail or my sister Vanya would sneak slices of croque-messieurs that they had hidden and made. My sister just got accepted into cookingschool and she was trying to build her skills, so that was what she had started out with. Anyway, every time I was locked away in my room and denied food for the day, the three of them would somehow sneak it in."
Just what kind of a home did he grow up in?I had assumed that he was just another rich spoiled kid like Jeremy who lived the sheltered, pampered life but hearing his story made me realize there was more to him that I didn't know. And he had siblings? I couldn't have guessed that. I felt he was an only child, with wealth passed down straight to him. The thought of numerous Ivans in the room caused me to shiver.
"Wow, that's, umm, quite a story," I exhaled.
"Yes. Now I've shared, so it's your turn to share," he turned his lighter on again.
He just never gives up.
"Fine, but don't laugh or anything," the conversation had opened me up and became more free around him, "It's the McDonald's egg bacon biscuit sandwich."
"Oh my—what?" He laughed and it was a bit blinding.
"And you were judging me for having a sandwich as a favorite meal?" He continued.
I blushed, "Yeah, yeah, I know it's ridiculous."
"Nah, not at all. It's alright. Kinda glad we both share sandwiches as our favorite meals. And what's your story?" He switched off the lighter and leaned against the wall to listen to me. He had his full attention on me and my heart raced under the pressure.
"Well... When I was at the orphanage and whenever I moved from one foster home to the next, between transfer, where I still had to return to the orphanage for a while, one of the sisters there often loved buying it. She and I were close, so she would usually give me one every time she bought it. In time, it became sort of like a comfort food for me, reminding me of,you know, the bond I formed there, and I don't know, maybe the bonds I would form later in the future. It's really open to interpretation, really," I chattered.
"Well, I think you too have an interesting origin story for yours as well," Ivan smiled before he caught sight of one of the maids, "Sonia!"
The young girl with her black hair tied into a neat ponytail quickly rushed to him and bowed, "Yes, Boss."
"Have Katarzyna prepare breakfast for Audrey and I."
From under her eyes, she cast a glance at me before asking, "And what will you both be having this morning, Boss?"
"Croque-messieurs and egg bacon biscuit sandwiches a la McDonald's," Ivan said with a straight face.
"Y-Yes, Boss." The girl was about to leave when Ivan noted, "And tell Katarzyna to prepare the croque-messieurs the way Vanya had taught her."
Chapter 13 - Ivan
A few days later
"So, the police had been informed about the location of our warehouses that night as well?" I asked Anton, who was driving the car.
"Yes, Boss. The cops on our payroll said someone had tipped off detective Lopez," Anton stepped on the gas. So my suspicions were true. There was a rat in the organization.
"Okay. For now, let’s keep this information just between the two of us."
"Of course." Anton agreed.
"Anything from that snake Giuseppe?" I questioned.
"Not a word yet. The Bianchis are observing the ceasefire and laying low," Anton uttered. I still had time, but not for long. It was crucial I found this rat before he caused any further damage to the organization.
"Also..." Anton interrupted.
"Also what, Anton?" I hesitated, exhaling deeply.
"Well, speak up Anton, for fuck's sake."
