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“Yeah, it’s no contest. Now, I’d better get it off before I rip it or spill something on it.”
“Such a wonderful choice,” Lydia says, nodding in approval. “And this one is on the less-expensive side at only twenty-two thousand dollars.”
I blink, sure I’ve heard her wrong. She added a zero in there somewhere. Right?
But Nadia just nods once, and says, “I’ll take it.”
* * *
I love them all so much, but I need a few minutes of quiet. And I want to see Shane. I haven’t seen him hardly at all today, and the fact that I’m having withdrawal is just another clue that I’m totally head-over-heels for the man.
I feel fantastic. My body is loose and relaxed, and I haven’t laughed with my friends so much in years. Things are finally starting to look up.
I am just about to turn the corner into the kitchen when I hear Shane’s voice and stay out of sight, frowning.
“I still can’t believe the son of a bitch is alive.”
“I remember when he was supposedly killed.” That voice is Igor Tarenkov. “Many people wanted him dead.”
“Yeah, Pavlov was a real piece of work,” Carlo Martinelli says. “He was on all of the families’ radars. He was mostly harmless but completely untrustworthy. He was a thief and didn’t even have enough honor to protect his wife and child.”
“I’ve known that Ivie was his daughter since the day Annika brought her home from college,” Igor says, surprising me. I didn’t know that he knew. “I likely knew before Annika did. Ivie is a good girl. She couldn’t be more different than the man who sired her. She certainly doesn’t know that the man lives.”
I cover my mouth, suppressing the sound of my surprised gasp. My father is alive? How? I saw him hanging for myself. We were so sure that the phone number we found was a cover.
Without giving it another thought, I storm into the kitchen, every nerve ending in my body radiating anger and frustration.
“What did you say?” I stare at Shane, my hands on my hips.
“Ivie, we’re in a meeting—”
I step forward until I’m toe-to-toe with him. “What did you just say?”
“I like her,” Carlo says, but I don’t look his way.
“Your father is alive,” Shane says.
“And how long have you known that little piece of information, Shane?”
He doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.
“A few days.”
“A few days? Did you know the day we arrived here and we talked? When you fucking swore to me that you didn’t know more?”
His nostrils flare, and I already know the answer.
“Yes. I knew then.”
“I can’t believe this. I trusted you. All of you. And you withheld this from me? What possible reason could there be for that, knowing what that monster did to me?”
“We were gathering information, little one,” Igor says, and I turn to him. His eyes are full of compassion, and it’s almost my undoing.
But I firm my lower lip and look around the room at a group of men I thought were being honest with me—and just feel complete betrayal.
Especially from Shane.
“Tell me more.”
“I saw him with my own eyes. He goes by the name of James Peterson now,” Rocco adds. “I sat in front of his house in a suburb outside of Dallas for an hour. No one came or went, but I added a camera to his mailbox, pointed at the house, just in case something interesting happens.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Anything,” Carmine replies. “We don’t know enough about him at this point to know who he’s involved with or how he’s been spending the past dozen years.”
My father is alive.
That piece of shit is still allowed to breathe?
No.
“You should have told me.” I glare at the man I love and turn to run out of the kitchen.
I’m too angry to stay. I’ll end up saying something I regret. Instead, I run up to my bedroom and pace for a moment, and then make a snap decision.
I’m going to go find that asshole and kill him myself. This is what I’ve been training for, isn’t it?
I quickly grab my laptop and purse and hurry down the stairs and out the front door, but stop short when I see the security guard named Peter blocking my way.
“Miss?”
“Oh, hi.” I offer him a charming smile. “I was hoping I would run into you. Shane told me to find you and ask you to drive me to the airport.”
He narrows his eyes. I’d better talk fast if I’m going to make him believe me.
“He’s currently in a meeting with his father and the others and can’t be interrupted. He said you’d take care of me.”
“He said no such thing.”
My eyes close at the hard voice behind me. Shit.
Chapter 18
~Shane~
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demand when I get Ivie back inside. She’s quivering with anger, and frankly, I’m just as pissed.
