Page 24

“You bastard!” he shouts, slamming his hand down on the table. The sound echoes around the bare walls of the room, but it doesn’t affect me at all. He stares at me with hatred as if I’ve stolen his entire world. Even though it was already lost to him. He doesn’t know I am the only one who can give it all back to him.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” I say, exasperated. “I never pegged you for a sore loser.”
“You sent for my daughter,” he says, his voice cracking with impotent fury. “How dare you?”
He is getting tiresome. I glance down at my watch. Lara should be here soon.
““Why the hell are you bringing my daughter into this?” he roars.
“Because,” I reply, keeping my tone calm and even. “This situation has nothing to do with you. It’s all about her and you are just someone standing in the way.”
He looks completely confused, his expression one of astonishment. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
“Let’s just wait for Lara to get here. I’m sure she’ll explain everything to you.”
He shakes his head. “No. No. The game was between the two of us. If you want things to remain cordial between us, you better rectify it now and tell her not to come.”
I cock my head, watching him closely, truly astonished by his naivety. It’s like he’s unable to comprehend what’s happening right in front of him. “Mr. Fitzpatrick,” I say calmly, my voice as steady as ever. “Given the losses you’ve suffered, I don’t think you should be giving me any orders. It amazes me that you are. Where is this confidence coming from? Tell me. Please.”
I watch the man closely, noting every shift in his expression. He’s trying to keep his composure, but he’s barely managing it. He stares at me, unable to speak further, masking the fact that he is close to tears with that rigid, furious face.
“You lost everything tonight,” I continue relentlessly, my tone blunt. “I even warned you to stop, but you didn’t listen. Your house, your business, even your car. You should have stopped when you realized just how good I am, or after you confirmed it the second time. Instead, you bet even bigger, putting not just your life, but your daughter’s, and all those who work for you in jeopardy. You put yourself in this mess with your addiction, and now you’re about to drag everyone else down with you.”
The man sits there, seething, but unable to refute a single thing I’ve said.
“I’m not your enemy. I’m just a man who wants to help.”
“Help? What do you want in return?” he asks, glaring at me, his face flushed red, a mix of fear and near panic etched into his expression.
I lean back, settling comfortably into my chair, a smile on my face. “Your daughter knows what I want. Only she has the power to save you now.”
Before he can respond, there is a knock on the door. I nod and Alexei steps forward to open it. It’s the waitress from earlier. Behind her is Lara. She looks both worried and furious, her hair is disheveled. I can already see it on a pillow flowing underneath her as she writhes under me.
“Dad!” she calls as she hurries into the room. She throws a glare in my direction before turning her focus back to her father, clearly demanding an explanation, unsure whether to be alarmed or relieved.
“You’re fine?” she asks him.
This makes me laugh softly. “What did you think I was going to do to him?”
She checks her father’s face and his arms, her worry evident. There’s something about the concern in her eyes that makes me stare, a flicker of recognition. There is real love there. They are both struggling, but the deep bond between them is clear. I envy that. I know I will never have it. I learned a long time ago that people in my position will never know if the people around them are there for love or for the benefits.
It was a hard lesson to learn, but it has served me well.
“What’s going on here?” she asks, straightening. She glances at the men in the room before her gaze locks back onto mine, her eyes sharp and unyielding. “This has now entered the territory of harassment, Mr. Ivanovich, and I swear to God, I will not let it go. I don’t care how rich you are.”
I stare at her. Her face is scrubbed clean, and the slip of white lace she’s wearing underneath is probably from a nightgown tucked into joggers. She threw on a denim jacket on top in her rush to get here.
“What is happening?” she demands. “Why are you harassing my father?”
I turn to the man and give him a pointed look. “Do you want to explain, or should I?”
He glowers at me once again before shifting his full attention to his daughter.
Chapter Sixteen
LARA
“Sweetheart,” my father begins. “I might have gone a bit overboard tonight with the gambling.”