Chapter 1 #2
Dad points at Brax. "His Abruzzo wife sliced Blue's arm!"
Mom's eyes widen. She grabs my arm, and the color drains from her face exactly the way I practiced in my head.
If Brax would just play his part, he'd be comforting me right now and promising me he'll kill his wife in her sleep tonight.
Instead, he insists, "Valentina did no such thing. Blue broke into her house and has been stalking us. She's broken into mine several times over the last few months."
Mom gapes at him.
"It's true," he adds.
Mom peers at me, first in shock, then in disappointment and horror. More of my brilliantly crafted novel turns to ash.
A chill crawls up my spine. I blurt out, "His wife is making things up. You know how Abruzzos are. Look at my arm." Tears fill my eyes again, some fake, some not. I cannot lose Brax to her. I add, "Look what she did."
"Cut the act," Brax mutters.
"Don't you speak to my daughter," Dad snaps.
"Your daughter needs help," Brax repeats.
Mom's eyes widen. "Help? What do you mean help?"
Dad shoots Brax a death glare. "He's lying. Don't listen to such nonsense."
Brax barks a humorless laugh and addresses Mom. "Skylar, please listen since your husband won't. Blue is stalking me and now my wife. She follows us, breaks into our homes, and blows up my phone even though I won't answer. I can show you the text messages."
I gasp loudly, giving it everything I've got. But the terror that spikes through me is real. I'm losing, and Ivanovs don't lose.
Mom looks at me in pure horror.
"He-he's lying," I weakly claim, because my throat is closing and my lungs won't work, and none of this is how it was supposed to go.
Dad stands taller, planting himself like a wall. "He is. If this were happening, he would have told us."
Brax says, "I didn't want to embarrass her. Or you or Skylar. I thought it was just a stupid crush that would pass."
Mom's hand flies to her mouth. Her eyes soften into worry. "Oh God."
No. No. No.
Dad's expression darkens. "Printsessa, you're not buying this?"
Mom looks between Dad and me. And then she looks at Brax. Her face falls.
"I'm not lying," Brax says softly.
Dad snarls, "Your wife—"
"She's not the one sneaking around people's apartments," Brax fires back.
"Valentina Abruzzo—"
"Enough!" Mom snaps.
Dad freezes.
Her lips tremble as she warns, "Don't you dare say another word about his wife."
Dad's eyes widen like she's betrayed him. But she hasn't. She's betraying me.
Her voice shakes. "Brax has never lied to us. If this is true, Blue needs a doctor."
"What? Mom!" I cry out, chest caving in.
Mom spins toward me, grabbing my arm with trembling fingers. "How did you do this?"
My mouth hangs open. Nothing comes out. How does she see through me so easily? How does she know? How did everything crumble so fast?
"Skylar!" Dad scolds.
Mom's eyes well with tears. "These are serious accusations."
Dad scoffs. "Yes. Accusations being the keyword."
Brax shakes his head. "Why would I lie about this?"
Dad snaps, "To cover for that snake of a wife you have!"
"Adrian! Stop it!" Mom fires back.
Dad breathes hard, staring at her like she's lost her mind.
"You are too blinded by pride," she whispers.
"Mom! Brax is lying!" I try again, desperate, voice cracking.
Brax scoffs. "Believe whatever you want, but I'm done dealing with it quietly. Keep your daughter away from me and from Valentina."
Mom nods immediately, earning a glare from Dad. Still, she says, "Brax, I'm so sorry."
He doesn't look at me. He brushes past me like I'm no one, and especially not the love of his life.
Mom says, "I'll walk you out," to Brax. She avoids looking at me and steers him into the foyer.
Dad stares at me, and I can't tell if he's on my side or theirs.
"He's lying, Dad. I swear," I add.
"Leave the room. Your mother and I need to talk," he directs.
"Dad—"
"Don't say another word, Blue," he warns, putting his hand in the air.
I cave, go into the bedroom my parents keep as mine even though I have my own apartment, and throw myself on the bed. I bury my face in my pillow, wondering how this blew up in my face.
Hours pass, but I'm too scared to move, stuck on the reels, repeating the scene from earlier in my head. Mom and Dad finally come into my room.
I sit up.
"Blue…" Dad starts, then helplessly looks at Mom.
I straighten up against the headboard, even though my insides are burning and ripping apart. I refuse to crumble. I'm an Ivanov. I don't break, and I don't lose. I'm definitely not letting anyone rewrite my love story.
If Brax wants to pretend he doesn't love me, then fine. He'll eventually come to his senses.
"It's all lies," I try again.
Mom sits on the bed next to me. "I've made you an appointment with a therapist."
My gut drops. "What?"
"You need help," she says, her eyes tearing again.
"Dad, you have to believe me, even if she doesn't," I declare.
Pain crosses his expression. He shakes his head. His voice comes out low. "You need help, sweetheart."
"I didn't do anything!" I claim.
"Blue, stop. You're going to outpatient therapy, or we're checking you into a hospital," Mom states.
I gape at them.
"Pick," she says in a firm tone.
My insides crumble, but I remind myself that I'm an Ivanov.
If Mom wants to treat me like a patient, then fine.
If Dad wants to believe the worst, then I'll deal with it.
If they want me to get help? Fuck it. I'll get help.
I'll fake the progress, pretend to heal, and charm whatever therapist they send me to. So I state, "Outpatient."
Relief fills their expressions. Mom nods and places her hand on mine. "You have an appointment tomorrow at 9 a.m. with Dr. Red Mercer."
"Didn't realize you had one on speed dial," I snap.
"Watch your tone," Dad warns.
"I know someone who worked with him. He specializes in..." Mom's face crumples. She looks at Dad.
"At what, Mom?" I push, with adrenaline pinging hard into my cells.
She takes a deep breath, pins a painful expression on me, and says, "With obsessive behaviors."
I laugh. It starts small and grows into something I can't stop.
"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny," she asserts.
I find a way to stop. "Brax is lying. But I'll do what you want and go see your therapist. Can I go home now?"
"I think you should move in with us for a while," Dad says.
I jerk my head backward. "What? No."
Mom grips my hand. "Blue—"
I jump off the bed. "No. I'll go see your shrink. I'm not living here. I'm twenty-five! And an adult! You can't make me." I brush past them.
"Blue!" Dad calls after me.
I don't stop. I move quickly through the penthouse and lunge into the open elevator. I hit the close and the ground floor buttons.
When it opens in the lobby, I rush past security, step into the cool air, and decide to walk home. I pull out my phone and look up Dr. Mercer.
There's barely anything about him online, which piques my curiosity.
Every photo that exists shows the same man.
He's late thirties or early forties, with dark hair swept back like it always obeys him, slate-gray eyes that look carved from stone, and a jawline sharp enough to make his button-down shirt seem obscene.
He's the kind of clean-cut American professional women probably trust instantly, which is hilarious, because nothing about him feels safe to me.
Even the way he stands in pictures with his shoulders squared, expression unreadable, hands loosely folded like he's analyzing whoever's behind the camera, makes my stomach tighten.
He's a man who doesn't give himself away easily.
He keeps his world small.
He notices everything.
And the fact that he's so hard to find online? That's practically an invitation. People like him always have something worth hiding. So I'll discover it.
By the time I get to my apartment, I've decided how this will go. I'll make Dr. Mercer think he understands me. Then I'll return to the part of this story that still belongs to me.
Brax walked away. He chose Valentina.
For now.
In the meantime, I'll make Dr. Red Mercer see the version of me I choose. And I'll make damn sure he's the one who goes crazy craving everything from me he should never want.
He'll regret the day he accepted me as a patient.