Father’s study was larger than I imagined.
I pushed the door open. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, back to me, holding an unlit cigar.
“Vivian,” he said without turning. “Sit.”
I sat on the sofa, back straight.
He remained silent for a long time—long enough for me to think he’d forgotten I existed.
“You know why I brought you back now” he finally asked.
“I don’t.”
He turned, sat across from me, gray eyes scrutinizing me in a way I couldn’t read.
“Ten years ago,” he began, “I sent people to retrieve you. Every one of them disappeared.”
My heart skipped.
“I later found out you were taken by the Kovalenkos,” he continued. “Lawrence and Kovalenko are sworn enemies. You know what that implies.”
I nodded. “I thought you’d send people to kill me.”
He laughed, low and deliber
