Chương 2 - The Eighty-Five-Thousand-Dollar Offer
Ivan didn't touch the briefcase.
That surprised Jessi.
He could tell.
People probably didn't refuse things Jessi Sterling placed in front of them.
Especially not people carrying eviction notices.
“What's the job?” Ivan asked.
“A performance.”
“That's not an answer.”
“It's the only answer you're getting until you agree.”
“Then we're done.”
Ivan stood.
Jessi watched him walk toward the door.
“Your daughter had an emergency room visit three months ago.”
He stopped.
“Don't.”
“The insurance company rejected part of the follow-up treatment.”
“Don't talk about Fiona.”
“Why?”
Ivan turned.
“Because she's not leverage.”
For the first time, Jessi's expression softened.
Only slightly.
“You're right.”
Ivan hadn't expected that.
She closed Fiona's medical file and moved it away.
“I apologize.”
“You don't sound like someone who apologizes often.”
“I don't.”
“Maybe practice.”
A strange silence followed.
Then Jessi smiled.
Barely.
“Sit down, Ivan.”
This time, she used his first name.
He returned to the chair.
Jessi opened another folder.
Photographs.
A silver-haired man leaving a restaurant.
Another entering a private car.
Another meeting two executives Ivan recognized from Sterling & Vance.
“Victor Sterling,” Jessi said.
“Your uncle.”
“Yes.”
Ivan had seen him in business magazines.
“What does he want?”
“My company.”
“Isn't it his company too?”
“He owns shares. He doesn't control it.”
“And you do.”
“Yes.”
Ivan examined the photographs.
“So this is corporate politics.”
“No.”
Jessi's voice became quieter.
“This is war.”
She explained that her father had built Sterling & Vance into an international empire. After his death, control had passed largely to Jessi.
Victor had never accepted it.
Then came the car accident.
The public believed Jessi had recovered completely.
If the board discovered how much pain she still suffered, Victor could argue she was incapable of leading.
Ivan looked toward her torso.
“You think he's waiting for people to find out.”
“I think he's trying to make sure they do.”
Ivan's eyes narrowed.
“You think your accident wasn't an accident?”
Jessi didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
“What exactly do you need from me?”
“Three months.”
“For what?”
“You become my personal security consultant.”
Ivan laughed.
“I'm a janitor.”
“You were military police for six years.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“You have surveillance training.”
“Basic.”
“Defensive driving.”
“Yes.”
“Threat assessment.”
“Some.”
“And unlike everyone currently around me, Victor hasn't purchased your loyalty.”
Ivan stared at her.
“So you trust me because I'm poor?”
“I trust you because you had the opportunity to exploit my secret last night and didn't.”
That silenced him.
Jessi pushed the money closer.
“This is advance compensation.”
Ivan looked at the cash.
“What does the performance part mean?”
“You'll remain close to me.”
“How close?”
“Close enough that Victor believes you're important.”
“Why?”
“Because I want him watching you instead of watching what I'm actually doing.”
Ivan slowly understood.
“You want a decoy.”
“A shield.”
“A pawn.”
Jessi's expression didn't change.
“If that's the word you prefer.”
Ivan looked at the briefcase again.
Eighty-five thousand dollars.
Fiona breathing freely.
No eviction notice.
No choosing between groceries and medicine.
But something felt wrong.
“Why cash?”
“Because I needed to know what you'd do when temptation was physically in front of you.”
Ivan looked up.
“This is a test?”
“Everything is a test.”
He shut the briefcase.
Then pushed it back.
Jessi's eyebrows lifted.
“I'll take the job.”
“But not the money?”
“I'll take a normal salary.”
“Why?”
“Because if I take eighty-five grand before I know what I'm involved in, you own me.”
Jessi stared at him for several seconds.
Then something changed.
Respect.
She stood.
Pain immediately flashed across her face.
Ivan instinctively moved toward her.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
Jessi gripped the desk until the spasm passed.
“You need a doctor,” Ivan said.
“I have doctors.”
“You need rest.”
“I have enemies.”
“Those aren't mutually exclusive.”
“They are in my family.”
Ivan sighed.
“You're impossible.”
“So I've been told.”
She walked toward the window.
“Ivan, there is one more condition.”
“What?”
“No one knows the extent of my injuries.”
“I know.”
“No one can.”
“Understood.”
“Especially Victor.”
Ivan nodded.
Then his phone rang.
SCHOOL NURSE.
His heart jumped.
“Excuse me.”
He answered immediately.
“Mr. Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“Fiona had an asthma episode during recess.”
Ivan stood.
“Is she okay?”
“She is stable, but we think you should come.”
“I'll be there.”
He hung up.
Jessi was already reaching for her coat.
“What are you doing?”
“My driver will take us.”
“Us?”
“You're working for me now.”
Ivan shook his head.
“My daughter doesn't need a billionaire executive arriving at her elementary school.”
Jessi stopped.
“Fair point.”
She picked up her phone.
“My driver will take you alone.”
Twenty-five minutes later, Ivan reached the school.
Fiona sat in the nurse's office.
The moment she saw him, she smiled.
“Daddy.”
Ivan hugged her.
On the ride home, Fiona noticed the expensive black sedan.
“Did you steal this?”
Ivan laughed.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Whose is it?”
“My boss's.”
“The scary lady?”
Ivan glanced at her.
“How do you know she's scary?”
“You said your boss was scary.”
“I did?”
“Twice.”
Ivan smiled.
Fiona leaned against him.
“Did you get fired?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Ivan looked out the window.
“I got promoted.”
That evening, someone knocked on their apartment door.
Ivan opened it.
A courier handed him an envelope.
Inside was a medical appointment confirmation.
Fiona Mercer.
One of the best pediatric pulmonary specialists in New York.
Paid in full.
There was no note.
Ivan immediately called Jessi.
She answered after one ring.
“I told you I wasn't taking the money.”
“You aren't.”
“You arranged this.”
“Your daughter needed a doctor.”
“That wasn't part of our agreement.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Silence.
When Jessi answered, her voice had changed.
“Because children shouldn't pay for the wars adults create.”
Ivan didn't know what to say.
Then he heard something behind her.
A crash.
Jessi gasped.
The phone dropped.
“Jessi?”
Nothing.
“Jessi!”
Ivan grabbed his jacket.
Through the phone came footsteps.
Then a man's voice.
Quiet.
Close.
“You should have stayed injured, Jessica.”
Ivan froze.
He recognized the name from the file.
Victor.
May you like
And suddenly the $85,000 no longer looked like an offer.
It looked like the first warning.
