Chicago after midnight was beautiful from a distance and dangerous up close.
Jack Stacy lay on the large bed in Ivanka Anderson’s apartment while his breathing slowly returned to normal.
The faint scent of lavender still hung in the room along with a trace of gunpowder that seemed to follow him home from the day’s shooting.
Ivanka lay beside him beneath a thin silk blanket.
Her fingers slowly traced his arm before coming to rest against his chest.
“You kept your promise from this morning.”
“I said I’d come back.” Jack took her hand and closed his eyes for a moment.
Ivanka watched him quietly.
“You killed someone today.”
It wasn’t a question.
Jack opened his eyes and met her gaze.
“I saved someone.”
Neil Vance’s desperate face flashed through his memory followed by the hostage and the gun pressed against her head.
Jack remembered drawing his Glock and firing before Vance could react.
This time there was no hidden pressure inside him and no need to pretend he was fine.
He had killed a man because there had been no safer option.
The hostage had gone home alive because Jack had pulled the trigger.
He wasn’t sure whether that calm came from Ivanka’s counseling or the strange sense of peace he had found with her during the last few days.
Ivanka turned onto her back and looked toward the ceiling.
After several seconds she spoke in a softer voice.
“My father has killed someone too.”
Jack turned toward her.
In the short time they had known each other Ivanka had revealed almost nothing about her family.
He knew she came from money and had left home because her family tried to control her future.
Everything beyond that had remained hidden.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jack asked as he gently squeezed her hand.
Ivanka gave him a faint smile.
It was the same question she had asked him countless times during their sessions.
This time their roles had reversed.
She remained silent for nearly half a minute before finally beginning.
“My father’s name is Brian Anderson.
Anderson wasn’t originally his last name.
He took my mother’s family name after marrying her because the Anderson family controlled the company he eventually took over.”
“My mother was Bella Anderson.
She was an artist more than a businesswoman and loved watercolor painting, charity work and the foundation she created.
She trusted Brian completely so she let him handle most of the company while she focused on the things she actually cared about.”
Ivanka’s fingers tightened around Jack’s hand.
“Before my eighteenth birthday my mother promised she would paint a portrait for me herself.
She went to our family’s lakeside house because she said she wanted somewhere quiet to work.”
Her voice became colder.
“Two days later on my birthday the police called.
They said she had fallen from the pier after part of the railing gave way.
She hit her head and drowned before anyone found her.”
Jack said nothing and let her continue.
“The autopsy called it an accidental drowning.
The investigation blamed the rain, slippery wood and a damaged railing.” Ivanka gave a humorless laugh.
“That property had professional maintenance every week and the railing had been replaced three months earlier.”
She looked directly at Jack.
“My mother was also terrified of deep water.
She would never have walked to the edge of that pier alone during a storm.”
Jack’s expression slowly hardened.
“You think somebody killed her.”
“Less than a month later Brian married Regina.” Ivanka’s voice turned sharper.
“She was twenty-two and eighteen years younger than him.
Before my mother died she had been his executive assistant.”
Ivanka swallowed before continuing.
“At their wedding Regina wore my mother’s pearl necklace.
It had belonged to my grandmother before Bella inherited it.”
Jack could imagine what that must have felt like for an eighteen-year-old who had barely buried her mother.
The new wife wearing Bella’s family jewelry only weeks after her death made the entire situation feel less like grief and more like replacement.
“Then they started planning my future.” Ivanka shifted closer to the headboard.
“Brian wanted me to marry the son of a United States senator.
The man was ten years older than me and already had several domestic-violence incidents buried by his family’s political connections.”
“He called it a strategic marriage.” Her expression turned cold.
“Good for the company.
Good for the family.”
“So you left.”
“Yes.” Ivanka nodded.
“My mother had created a trust for me years earlier.
I took what was legally mine and came to Chicago for school.
After finishing my education I built my own practice and never went back.”
Jack remembered what she had told him during their earlier session but now understood how much she had left out.
Escaping an arranged marriage had only been one piece of a much larger story.
“I never stopped investigating Bella’s death.” Ivanka’s voice grew faster.
“I hired private investigators.
I searched old records and tracked down people who worked at the property.”
“Every time I got close to something the same thing happened.
Witnesses suddenly remembered events differently.
Documents disappeared.
Investigators who had been enthusiastic about the case would quit without explanation.”
Jack felt his instincts sharpen.
This wasn’t simply a wealthy family hiding an embarrassing secret.
Someone had been actively shutting down attempts to uncover the truth for years.
“What did you find?” he asked.
Ivanka sat up and switched on the bedside lamp.
The warm light softened her features but couldn’t hide the anger in her eyes.
“One week before my mother died she changed her will.”
Jack sat up beside her.
“She left 51 percent of the company to me instead of Brian.” Ivanka looked straight ahead.
“That version of the will disappeared after her death.
The older document was used instead and Brian ended up controlling almost everything.”
The motive was painfully obvious.
A family company worth billions.
Control of the voting shares.
A wife standing between Brian and complete ownership.
Jack’s jaw tightened.
“Does he know you’re still investigating?”
“He knows.” Ivanka gave a bitter smile.
“He called me once and sounded like the most loving father in the world.
He told me to stop living in the past and come home to help run the family business.”
“And when you refused?”
“He reminded me that accidents happen.” Ivanka looked at Jack.
“Then he said my mother should have taught me that.”
Jack felt a chill despite everything he had seen on the job.
Gunmen were simple.
A weapon came out and you knew where the danger stood.
A father threatening his own daughter while hiding behind affection and political power was something else entirely.
“Why didn’t you take everything to the police?” Jack asked before the answer became obvious even to him.
Ivanka got out of bed and walked toward the small bar near the window.
“Brian isn’t the ambitious outsider who married my mother anymore.”
She poured herself a glass of wine.
“He’s the Mayor of New York City.”
Jack stared at her.
“And he’s preparing to run for Governor of New York,” Ivanka continued.
“One of his closest friends from college is the New York Attorney General.
Between politics, money and the Anderson name there aren’t many doors he can’t reach.”
Jack fell silent.
He had already seen enough police work to understand what money and influence could do to an investigation.
Witnesses could be pressured.
Records could disappear.
Careers could suddenly become bargaining chips.
Then another thought entered his mind.
Jack looked at Ivanka as she returned with the wine.
“That’s why you approached me.”
She stopped.
The room became quiet.
“Hank told me you were almost impossible to book.” Jack watched her expression carefully.
“Your clients are executives, command officers and people with enough money to buy privacy most people could never afford.”
Ivanka remained silent.
“At first I assumed Hank pulled strings to get the appointment.” Jack’s voice stayed calm.
“Now I’m wondering if you saw my referral and decided you wanted me here.”
Her eyes changed slightly.
“You needed a cop.” Jack continued.
“Not some random officer.
Someone who kept finding the key evidence in difficult cases and didn’t have decades of political connections tying him to people like your father.”
Ivanka looked at him for several seconds before slowly smiling.
There was no amusement in it.
Only relief that she no longer needed to hide the truth.
“You really are sharp, Jack.”
“So I’m right.”
“Yes.” Ivanka didn’t try to deny it.
“I first became interested in you because of your case history.”
She began counting them quietly.
“The Diaz kidnapping case.
The gunrunning investigation.
Green Ward’s counterfeiting operation.
The Collins drug-smuggling case.”
“You kept appearing in the reports.” Ivanka held his gaze.
“You were always the rookie who noticed what everyone else missed.”
Jack felt his mood cool.
He didn’t like being manipulated.
Ivanka had entered his life knowing far more about him than he had known about her.
“But that was only why I noticed you,” she said.
Ivanka moved closer and gently touched his face.
“If all I wanted was an investigator I could hire one.
I have enough money to hire ten.”
Jack looked at her without answering.
“I didn’t need to bring an investigator into my home.” Her voice softened.
“And I certainly didn’t need to fall for him.”
That caught Jack off guard.
Ivanka sat beside him and took a slow breath.
“There’s something else you need to understand.
Before you I had always thought of myself as a lesbian.”
Jack blinked.
Ivanka almost laughed at his expression.
“I’m serious.
Since I was a teenager I was only attracted to women.
I had two girlfriends during college and a few shorter relationships afterward.”
“Men never interested me.” She studied his face.
“Then I met you.”
Jack needed a moment to process that.
Ivanka continued before he could respond.
“I’m not saying you magically changed who I am.
I’m telling you that you’re the first man I’ve ever wanted this way and I don’t have a neat explanation for it.”
She took both of his hands.
“So yes.
My reason for noticing you wasn’t completely innocent.
But what happened after we met was real.”
Jack watched her carefully.
“You still don’t want a normal relationship.”
It was a statement rather than a question.
Sadness briefly crossed Ivanka’s face.
“My mother loved Brian completely.” She looked down at their joined hands.
“She married him.
Trusted him.
Gave him control of everything.”
“And she died.”
Ivanka took a breath.
“I’m never giving anyone that kind of power over me.”
She raised her eyes.
“I won’t get married.
I won’t change my name and I won’t abandon my career to build my entire life around somebody else.
I’m also not moving into your apartment and pretending to be the quiet girlfriend waiting for you to come home from the district.”
Jack almost smiled at the image but Ivanka wasn’t finished.
“I also won’t demand that you only see me.” Her voice remained calm.
“If you want to be with another woman that’s your decision.”
Jack stared at her.
“You’re proposing an open relationship.”
“I’m telling you what I can live with.” Ivanka didn’t look away.
“Don’t bring someone else into my home.
Don’t make me part of it and be responsible about protection.
Beyond that I’m not interested in controlling you.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I love you, Jack.”
The words came without drama.
“I never expected to say that to a man.” Ivanka continued.
“But I want you here.
I want to share a bed with you and tell you things I don’t tell anyone else.”
“I want us to have something real.” Her eyes stayed locked on his.
“I just don’t want either of us to own the other.”
Ivanka moved closer.
“If what you eventually want is a traditional marriage, children and a wife who builds her entire life around yours then I’m probably not that woman.”
“But if you can accept me the way I am then we can try.” Her voice softened.
“I need independence and I’ll give you the same freedom.”
Jack leaned back against the headboard while his mind tried to process everything she had just told him.
They had known each other for only a few days.
In that time Ivanka had admitted that she originally approached him with a hidden motive.
She had revealed an unexpected part of her romantic history, proposed an open relationship and placed the possible murder of her mother at the center of a conspiracy involving one of the most powerful men in New York.
This was insane.