“Mladenov, you’re a bastard.” Haroldson nodded and stuck out his hand. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
The corners of Ivan’s mouth tipped up. If he had fangs, they would’ve flashed. “Likewise.”
“I’ll give you a call once I get some answers.” Haroldson held the mob boss’s hand. “And Iwillget answers.”
When they separated, the developer turned to me. “Thank you for dinner, Poppy.”
I gulped. “Anytime! And I mean that. Sorry the circumstances were…unorthodox.”
Haroldson snorted. “It brought excitement to the evening, that’s for sure.”
A rideshare pulled up a few moments later, and the developer left. Ivan didn’t drop my hand the entire time we walked back to our street. I let out a long sigh when we reached the narrow front porch.
“What’s that about?” Ivan pulled me onto the top step and bent at the bottom so we were face to face.
Brady was playing tag with Boris, they’d roped Rayko into being ‘it’.
“I just don’t like walking around,” I muttered, looking at the game and avoiding eye contact.
Ivan caught my chin and turned me to face him. “Poppy?”
I resisted for a moment, but he wasn’t letting it slide. I bit my bottom lip and met his stare.
“This isChicago,” I explained in a whisper. “It used to be the most unsafe city in the US—I think Atlanta is now, but still.” I waved my hand. It didn’t matter which city held the crime status. “I hate it, Ivan.”
His gaze hardened. “You want to be back in North Dakota.”
It was a statement.
Did I? “There is part of me that will always love it there, but…Brady belongs here. And I am think I do too.”
The air around Ivan fell still. He was poised, rooted to the ground like an unconquerable stone. I felt the hum from the wheels turning in his mind. Saw the gears shifting in his eyes.
“It’s just not safe here,” I hedged. The words tumbled out of their own accord. Something needed to be said, and I blurted out the biggest fear in my heart. My cards were on the table.
Ivan jerked as if he’d been struck. “Not safe? How?”
Both my brows shot to my forehead. “How? The first night we stayed here there were gunshots.” Ivan sucked a harsh breath, but I continued, “The streets are rough. I don’t trust Brady to play out front, and I’m terrified someone will drive by to shoot up your turf. Plus…there was the incident at the ice cream parlor. And I’m sure as hell you have enemies!”
The words were a twisted vat of emotion. Once opened, they tumbled out. My chest heaved, desperate to take in air, but the precious oxygen didn’t quell the tremble.
I was hysterical.
And yet, through the haze of fear, the desire to flee had vanished. This was where we were staying. If it became a gilded cage, then it was no different than the prospects I’d been raised to expect from life. For Ivan, I was willing to be trapped.
“Poppy, breathe.” Ivan gripped both my hands, rubbing the back with his thumb. “You need to breathe, flower.”
That nickname, one I would have hated if it came from anyone else, washed over me. I focused on his mouth, timing my own breaths with his.
“Okay, good. Good girl,” he murmured in that husky voice that sent tingles through me, despite the inconvenient time. “First, there have been no shootings in these streets—no drive-bys—in the last decade.”
I opened my mouth, but he shook his head.
“I made sure of it. This is my turf, as you said. No one would dare.”
He was certain. The king whose word would not be broken.
But…. “There were gunshots, Ivan. That first night!”
