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His eyebrows knit as though there’s an obvious answer. “Because I’m in love with you. So in love that you make me lose my goddamn mind. I don’t even know when it first happened, but I know you feel it. You know my feelings are genuine. You’re my everything.” His eyes are brimming with unshed tears—yet another sight I never thought I’d see.
Mine won’t stop falling because I do feel the truth in that declaration. I felt it inmoments before it ever made sense. And this is what I wanted—to be loved by Gavin Wells—but not like this.
“Say something, Ives. Please. Fight me. Yell at me. But talk to me.” His request makes me wonder how long I’ve been sitting here, aching and dazed.
Time hasn’t felt this confusing since my father’s stroke. In those first days, hours could feel like seconds, minutes like months.
Grains of sand.
My eyes flick to his, jade now with the anguish speckling them. I need to muddle my way through this, collect the breadcrumbs leading to the big picture. Self-pity has no place here, nor does empathy for the man crouched at my feet.
I lift my chin. “When were you hired to find me?”
“About five and a half years ago. But it took us nearly eight months to track you down.”
Fuck.Every answer knocks my balance off more.
“You’ve known who I was and where I was for five years?” I gasp.
“Yes,” he says plainly, allotting me time to process.
Too many loose ends sway from that, so I begin with the one producing the most rage inside me. “And you planned to turn me over for what? How much money?”
“Once I saw you, I wasn’t ready to turn you over, so I met with your father. It was the week of your eighteenth birthday. Tom was expecting me—always a step ahead of this mess. We discussed the situation and agreed to keep you safe until you were prepared. So, I waited through the college years, watching and protecting you.”
While I appreciate that little tidbit of information, his evasiveness stirs up a violent storm inside me—true to his nickname for me.
My jaw locks. “How much was I worth to you?”
His fingers skate up and down my thighs—a plea. “Don’t think of it like that. You’re priceless to me, Ivy. My whole world. You know that.”
I shove my chair back, springing out of it like it’s an activevolcano spurting me forth. “And you know what I’m fucking asking!”
He rises off the floor, dragging a hand down his scruff, somehow more haggard than normal. “Millions. Fourteen when we accepted this job, but it was a father with deep pockets, searching for his daughter. That’s what we were hired for.”
Fourteen million.
Jesus Christ. What the hell is happening?
I’m not illogical. I understand the angle that I was just another person to find. Wells didn’t owe me anything then, but he does now. “Was my father—the man who raised me—paying you to protect me for those five years?”
“Yes. Ten million.”
That pisses me off for whatever reason.Fuck.I’m so angry. And so damn hot. I rip off my hoodie and chuck it to the couch behind me, leaving myself in a tiny tank. “Not so noble then, Mr. Wells. Double-dipping to milk every cent out of me.”
With a grunt, he yanks on his hair like the strands hold the solution to all of this.“I’m sure it seems that way. But no. We used extensive time and resources to keep you hidden. His money was designated for that.” He spins away from me for a beat, turning back with eyes so heavy that it stills me. “I trusted your father. We became close. He was a friend.” He flings his hand through the air. “Hell, he was the closest thing I’ve had to a father since I lost mine. During those four and a half years before he was sick, with his help and approval, I worked to make your situation more favorable. I alerted O’Reilly that I’d found you but wouldn’t turn you over until you were ready. And I helped him start gaining the votes.”
I don’t know which piece of that to dissect first, so I dig into the piece that makes the least sense. “Votes?”
He rests his hands on his hips, more relaxed with this line of questioning, I guess. “No woman has ever been Head of Familywith these groups or held a seat with KORT. It was a move requiring approval from three seats. It took years.”
“And my father,Dr. Kingston, was in favor of securing those votes? Why would he help you do that? This is what he wanted? Me to have a seat in this cabal?”
Flipping the chair that I was sitting in to face where I’m pacing, he drops into it. “Tom raised you to be strong and capable. He believed you deserved it. And he felt Eleanor’s hopes for you to have a normal life had been fulfilled. It’s an honor, a position of the utmost power. He wanted you to have the choice as an adult.”
I freeze, glaring at him as my heart plummets to my stomach. “And what was in it for you?”
He rubs his forehead. “When Tom first explained it all to me and we sought to obtain the votes, it was because the finder’s fee would increase.”
