Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Poppy
Silence wrapped around me in the blacked-out vehicle.
The entire time Donovan and I ate dinner, I’d expected him to bring up what would come next.
I figured he would want me to come home with him or at least appear to be doing so, but fortunately, he didn’t slide into the car with me.
He planted a kiss on my cheek before he closed the door behind me, and I was left alone with my thoughts.
The ring caught the dim light from the streets beyond the windows, and I stared down it in horror.
For the first time tonight, I allowed myself to truly react to the gaudy, ugly thing.
A quiet, horrified sound escaped my throat.
I didn’t even know if it was a laugh or a sob.
Maybe both. I turned my hand left and right and watched the stone flash.
I hated it. I hated what it meant. I hated what it looked like.
I hated the way it made me feel. Ivan’s face flooded my mind so sharply, I muffled a gasp behind my fist.
I didn’t know how I was going to survive this, but I certainly didn’t know how I was going to survive his reaction to it all.
I could put the ring somewhere and hide it, but that would only prolong the inevitable.
It would only hurt him more in the long run, and I didn’t want that.
He was the last person I wanted to hurt.
All I wanted to do was rip it from my finger and toss it out the window, but that would do nothing but make matters worse.
After about ten minutes, I looked out of the window and didn’t recognize my surroundings. My heart dropped into my stomach. Maybe Donovan changed his mind and was having me delivered to his penthouse?
“Excuse me?”
The driver tilted his head towards me. “Yes, Ms. Fairchild?”
“Are we going to Donovan’s penthouse?”
He shook his head. “No ma’am, I’m taking you to your new home.”
My new home?
“Excuse me?” I said again.
He shrugged. “I’m just following orders. I’m sure you’ll know more soon.”
He was right. Five more minutes passed, and he pulled up in front of a swanky building. Two muscular men took a step forward. One opened my door for me, the other held his hand out to help me from the car. “Miss. Fairchild, the Cristofs have been expecting you. Welcome to Queens.”
I blinked up at the two men and wondered if Ivan had orchestrated this whole thing, and he was going to save us. Was he going to get us out of here and away from Donovan? What did all of this mean?
“We will escort you up to the top floor.”
I nodded as I followed, somewhat in a trance.
The elevator doors slid open almost instantly. One guard stepped inside with me, another turned to face the lobby, hands clasped behind his back.
The elevator rose fast. Too fast, and my ears popped.
My heart pounded as we rose higher and higher.
When the elevator finally slowed, I curled my fingers into a fist until my knuckles ached.
I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready to see Ivan.
I wasn’t ready for him to see this—this monstrosity on my finger.
The doors slid open with a soft chime, and warm light spilled into the elevator.
Ivan stood in the center of the hallway.
His slightly damp hair was curling around his ears; instead of the smart, practical clothes he usually wore, he had on an oversized sweatshirt and joggers.
“I’ve been worried sick about you. I know you’ve been with Donovan…
” His words were quick, but then they slowed as he took in what I was wearing.
He blinked, and his eyebrows jumped on his forehead before he huffed out a breath.
“You look… wow. I don’t know what to say.
You’ve stolen every appropriate word I could use. My brain is officially useless.”
I stepped out of the elevator and the guard punched a number in.
The doors closed quickly behind me, leaving us alone.
I watched as he noticed the big rock on my finger, his jaw muscles started working overtime.
My chest felt like it was going to crack wide open.
Moisture pricked my eyes as he slowly—painfully—looked away from the ring… away from me.
“I guess that explains the outfit,” His voice was void of all emotion now.
My throat closed. “Ivan—”
“Don’t,” he rasped as he held up a hand. “Just don’t, please.”
His gaze dragged back to mine, and I could finally see the storm brewing in them. It was enough to break me.
“You got engaged,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question.
I pressed my shaking fingers against the cold, angry sparkle sitting on my hand. “I—yes.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He folded his arms over his chest like he needed something to hold himself together.
“Did he even ask you,” Ivan muttered, “or did he just… tell you?”
My lips parted, but nothing came out. I didn’t know how to answer because, yes—Donovan had technically asked me. But no—there had been no real choice. Not with Jane at stake.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to say it’s all a joke and that you’re breaking it all off. I want you to tell me that you will never go through with this.”
His hand lifted toward me for the briefest second, like he wanted to touch me, wipe off the fake perfume, pull me out of this dress, and out of this nightmare. But he curled his fingers into a fist before it reached me and let it drop back to his side.
“I wish I could.”
“Then do it. Take it off.”
“I can’t,” my voice broke.
He turned on his heel and walked to the only door in the hallway. He didn’t look at me as he went inside. “Ivan, why are we here? Is Jane okay? Where is she?”
He didn’t answer me.
He didn’t even slow.
He just disappeared through the door—his door—and the soft click of it closing behind him felt like a punch straight to my ribs.
My pulse roared in my ears. I hurried after him, twisting the knob and stepping inside before I could talk myself out of it.
“Ivan,” I tried again, breath catching. “Where is she? Why are we—”
The words died in my throat. Because as soon as I stepped inside, I realized…
This wasn’t his place. The entryway opened into a stunning, minimalist penthouse—sleek black marble floors, tall windows, soft golden lighting.
Or if it was his place, it was designed by a woman. None of this screamed Ivan Cristof.
“Jane?” I whispered.
A quiet laugh floated from down the hallway. “In here!”
I followed the sound until I reached a massive living room—warm lighting with a huge sofa and a skyline view—and there she was.
She was sitting with her legs underneath her and some bright pink, fuzzy pjs wrapped around her still damp body.
A towel was wrapped around her hair, and she had a deck of cards in her hand.
Sitting across from her was a woman I’d only seen a handful of times, but had never been formally introduced to.
Mrs. Cristof.
My breath left me in a rush.
Jane looked up and grinned. “Poppy! You have to see the bathroom. It’s literally bigger than my entire bedroom at home.”
Ivan’s mother rose slowly, offering me a gentle, knowing smile. “Welcome, sweetheart.”
That crack that felt like it was splitting me in two out in the hall felt like it could never be closed again.It was a gaping hole taking over my entire body.
I turned back toward Ivan, who was leaning against the doorway, arms folded, watching me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“Jane’s okay,” he said quietly. “Better than okay.”
My eyes burned. “Why here? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There wasn’t much time. A lot went down this morning while you were gone playing dress up. We had to get out of the penthouse.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? What happened?”
Panic rose up inside my my chest as I thought of all the worst-case scenarios, even though they didn’t matter because my sister was safe, sitting not even ten feet from me.
Poppy jumped from the couch. “Someone broke into the penthouse! Ivan checked it all out and then…” She paused and gave me a wide-eyed, dramatic look. “As the police were about to assess the place… The building caught fire!”
Ivan nodded slowly. “The whole penthouse is gone.”
My stomach did a flip-flop. “What do you mean?”
Ivan shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Whoever broke into the house didn’t want anyone to know it was them or what they were looking for, but they set fire to the place; everything is a loss.”
Poppy leaned back into the sofa. “Except all the things I got while shopping today. Thank God I wanted new pajamas and a few new outfits, or I would be nude right now.” She, of course, whispered the last bit.
Mrs. Cristof chuckled. “I would never let that happen. We would have gone shopping as soon as you got here if that were the case.”
“Can you be my new mom?” Jane clapped her hands in front of her, and that crack became something monstrous. My eyes stung and my nose burned as I turned away from them and tried to gain some kind of composure. It was nearly impossible.
Ivan pushed away from the wall and nodded with his head for me to follow him. I swiped under my eyes quickly and watched as he went down an ornate hallway with all kinds of art coating the walls.
“My mother’s room is on the other side of the penthouse. Our rooms are over here, split floor plan or something like that. Jane is right here,” he knocked on one of the doors and then kept walking. “Yours is at the end, and mine is right next to it.”
He pushed open the door at the end, and my breath caught. It was beautifully furnished with a massive four-poster bed in the center. There was even a small sitting area and a little nook full of books by a small fireplace.
Could I stay here forever?
His gaze finally met mine, and it almost brought me to my knees. The devastation in their depths was almost too much for me to bear.
“You and Jane are safe here. My mother has some of the highest security in all of this city. Her men are paid so well, no one will get through.”
His eyes flicked down to the ring again, and I wanted to tuck my hands behind my back.
“Ivan,” I whispered, very much aware of his mother and my sister down the hall. “I don’t want this. You have to know that.”
He chewed on his bottom lip. “Don’t, Poppy.
You don’t owe me an explanation. We went over this already.
We fought about this already, so I’m going to be honest with you…
I don’t have it in me to fight with you anymore.
I want nothing more than for you to be happy, but if you choose this, I won’t fight it. ”
I wanted him to fight for me. I wanted him to whisk us away. I wanted… I wanted him.
“Ivan, if I had a choice—”
“You do,” he said softly.
I shook my head even though he wasn’t looking. “No. I really, really don’t.”
Silence stretched between us—thick, brittle, and terrifying. How many more times could we do this song and dance? Not many more. It was breaking both of us, and it wasn’t fair. He just had to bring me to his mother. He just had to make this harder.
“Goodnight, Poppy.”
He didn’t try to push again, and I knew I was losing him, and that was the last thing I ever wanted.