“You recruited her,” I remark.
“I didn’t recruit her.”
“Then explain why she’s part of this.”
He pauses for a few seconds. “Because Lila happens to be my sister.”
For a heartbeat, the background sounds of the warehouse seem distant.
“Sister,” I repeat.
“Half-sister,” Ivan corrects, lifting one shoulder slightly. “Same father, different mother.”
I lean slightly onto my rear foot while considering the claim. “That’s convenient.”
“Truth rarely arrives at convenient times.”
“How long have you known?” I probe.
Ivan’s smile returns, slower this time. “Years.”
“And you waited until now to reach out?”
“Timing matters,” he replies.
The explanation fits the way Lila was pulled into this situation almost perfectly, calculated and delayed, planned long before Rowan ever stepped into the picture.
“You used her,” I remark while studying him from across the warehouse floor.
“I used an opportunity.”
I tilt my head a fraction, watching the way his men hold their positions along the crate line. “Which required manipulating her brother.”
Ivan doesn’t bother denying that part.
“Her brother was easy,” he replies. “Men with gambling debts usually are.”
My fingers tap once against my forearm before I lower my arms again and meet his eyes. “You planned that.”
Ivan’s mouth curves. “Let’s call it preparation.”
“You dragged Rowan into it.”
“I didn’t drag anyone,” he replies calmly. “Rowan stepped into the situation because she chose to protect someone she cares about.” He watches me more closely now. “You, for example.”
I hold his eyes. “You’re not nearly as clever as you think.”
Ivan laughs softly. “That may be true,” he replies, spreading his hands slightly. “But tonight, you’re standing in a warehouse exactly where I asked you to stand, and the woman you love is exactly where I want her.”
The satisfaction in his voice is impossible to miss. I ignore it.
“What happened to your father?” I ask.
The change in subject is enough to draw his attention. “Interesting question.”
“You mentioned him.”
Ivan’s expression becomes more serious now. “My father worked for the Volkov family,” he replies. “He moved between cities whenever they needed something handled. Moscow. St. Petersburg. Rostov. Sometimes smaller places that barely exist on most maps.”
