"Obrecht's daughter."
I peer closer. "I'm not following. I've never met her."
Mikhail takes a deep breath, presses the pads of his fingers together, and leans back. "The Ivanovs do what's in the best interest of the Ivanovs. I'm paid to make sure that happens. It's in the best interest of the Ivanovs that this goes away quietly, without any negative attention on Blue. Would you agree that's in her best interest, Dr. Mercer?"
"Yes," I say without hesitation.
"Then I'll be representing you from this point forward."
I should thank my lucky stars, but I'm not naive. Nothing comes free in life. So I blurt out, "And what do you want in return?"
His lips curl. "Compliance. Discretion."
My jaw twitches.
He leans closer and taps the table. "It involves your cooperation to not make certain calls or invite unnecessary attention. In return, I'll resolve this efficiently."
"And if I refuse?"
His shoulders lift in a small shrug. "Then this becomes louder. Messier. Other people get curious. And curiosity isn't something you want, trust me on that, Dr. Mercer."
A lump forms in my throat. I study him, cataloging the confidence and lack of wasted motion. Men like this don't bluff because they don't need to. They state facts and see to it they come true.
"All you have to do is trust me," he adds.
I scoff, "You show up out of nowhere and expect me to trust you?"
His eyes narrow. "From where I'm sitting, you don't have a lot of options, now do you?"
"Is that a threat?" I hurl, heart beating wildly.
His grin forms slowly. He leans closer and lowers his voice. "It's in Blue's best interest. So trust this. If there's any backlash on her, you'll wish you were rotting in a cell instead of free on the street."
My pulse skyrockets. I don't move or breathe.
He rises. "You'll be moved shortly. Paperwork will change. Time will compress."
"What does that mean?" I question.
"It means this day never happened. The squeaky-clean career you're known for will still look as such."
I jerk my head backward. "How is that even possible? There was a very loud public incident as I'm sure you're aware?—"
"It's my job," he interjects.
My voice cracks, "And what about Blue?"
His gaze sharpens. "She won't be your concern anymore. No calls. No visits. No records of her ever sitting in your office as a patient."
"That's not possible," I argue.
"Ah. But it is. I'm a man paid a lot of money to do things others can't, Dr. Mercer," he says, with a finality that crawls straight into my spine, but he mistakes my objection.
I'm sure he can do what he says he can. Mob money buys everything in Chicago, and now, I have no doubt the rumors about the Ivanovs are true. But there's no way Blue isn't my concernany longer. And the thought of erasing her is insane and not possible.
"Think carefully," Mikhail says and raps on the metal. He adds, "Some doors close gently. Others slam."
The guard appears. Mikhail brushes past him, and he orders, "Hands forward."
