"Except you're the problem. And it's his daughter. So I assume he doesn't know about you two?"
Light flickers in his pupils. "You're putting your reputation on the line, Dr. Mercer."
My pulse kicks with calculation. "You're threatening my career."
He steps so close, I can smell the faint cedar of his cologne. "I'm stating facts. One call from me and your license is ash. One whisper to the board, one carefully worded complaint from a 'concerned colleague' who heard rumors about boundary violations, and do you think they'll care about timelines? Or whether she was technically still your patient when you kissed her? They'll see headlines. 'Prominent Psychiatrist Preys on Vulnerable Young Patient.' Your practice dies. Your reputation dies. And Blue?" He lets the name hang. "She'll be the tragic footnote. The girl who was taken advantage of. Again."
Rage coils tight in my chest, but I keep it leashed. "You're good at this."
"I've had practice."
I nod once. "So have I."
He waits.
I grunt. "You think I haven't run every scenario? You think I haven't lain awake calculating the exact second this could blow up in my face? I have. Every night since I realized I couldn't walk away from her. And you know what I keep coming back to?"
He doesn't answer.
My voice drops, and everything I've tried to avoid believing comes rushing out. "She's worth it. Every risk. Every threat. Every fucking phone call you might make. She's worth watching my career burn. So if you're waiting for me to beg, or bargain, or hand her over like some prize I'm willing to forfeit, you're going to be disappointed."
He gives me a look like a predator gives another when it realizes its teeth are real.
"You really believe that?"
"I know it."
Silence stretches past ten seconds.
Then Mikhail exhales through his nose. "Interesting."
He repositions his stance. "I could still make the call."
I don't move. "You could. But you haven't yet. Which means you're not sure what outcome you want."
His mouth quirks. "Observant."
"I'm a psychiatrist. It's my job."
He studies me for another long moment. Then, quietly asserts, "She trusts you. Completely. That's dangerous for someone like her."
I counter, "She trusts you, too. Enough to let you near Demi and into my house tonight."
He doesn't deny it.
I press the advantage. "So maybe you're not here to burn me down. Maybe you're here to decide whether I'm worth the mess I'll make if you try."
Mikhail tilts his head. "And if I decide you're not?"
My voice stays calm. "Then we'll have a different conversation. One that doesn't end with words."
He laughs. It's short and surprised. "You'd fight me. For her?"
"In a heartbeat. And the next time you want to threaten me, make sure you're not looking into the same mirror," I warn.
He arches an eyebrow.
"I know how to make phone calls and send emails, too."
