Page 8 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
The realization hits me: part of me is looking forward to seeing Victor again. Not just as Aaron's father, not just as the architect of this reconciliation, but as a man who makes me feel things I shouldn't.
I close the suitcase with trembling hands. Going to that cabin is dangerous, and not just because I might be setting myself up for another heartbreak with Aaron. There's something else waiting for me in those mountains, something I've been denying since the first time Victor Strickland looked at me like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve.
I should say no. Should call Victor back and make an excuse. I should recognize that the flutter in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again is a warning, not an invitation.
But what choice do I really have? In two days, I'll be temporarily homeless with nowhere to go for the holidays. My research funding is gone. My advisor has abandoned his students. Every support structure in my life has collapsed simultaneously, and here's Victor Strickland offering shelter, comfort, and the possibility of putting at least one piece of my life back together.
I called the few friends I have earlier today. Beth has gone home to her parents in Maine. Jenna isn't answering her phone. And Kayla, my last hope, apologized profusely about a "family emergency" that meant she couldn't offer her couch as she'd initially promised. No hotels in my budget. No family to turn to—not since losing both parents before I turned eighteen. Nowhere to go during the coldest weeks of the year.
I reach for my phone and text Victor my address, adding a simple "Thank you for this opportunity."
The response comes immediately: "Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Kyra. The mountains have a way of revealing truths we hide from ourselves."
I stare at his words, a chill running down my spine. Truths we hide from ourselves. What truths is Victor Strickland hiding? What truths am I hiding from myself?
I don't know the answers, but tomorrow I'll be in a remote mountain cabin with a man whose voice alone makes my heart race, hoping to reconcile with his son who broke that same heart just days ago.
The Christmas lights continue their blinking, but now they feel less like daggers and more like warnings. Red for danger. Green for go ahead. Gold for the price we pay for the things we want most.
I'm going to the mountains. I'm going to fight for Aaron.
And if the thrill that runs through me at the thought of seeing his father again is anything to go by, I'm also walking willingly into a trap of my own making.
Chapter two
Victor
Dmitri’s single broken finger is enough to make his point. The sound—a wet crack against the warehouse office's silence—serves its purpose.
"Please," Dmitri gasps, his accent thick with fear. "I have a family. Children."
"You should have thought about your family before you decided to steal from me." I flex my knuckles, noting the slight ache. I keep my right hand clean during these conversations. Some marks shouldn't be tainted with business. "Forty thousand dollars, Dmitri. That's not pocket change."
Patrick stands ready with his signature impassive expression, but I wave him back. This isn't about brutality for its own sake. This is about education. About ensuring that everyone who works for Victor Strickland understands the cost of betrayal.
I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my phone, swiping to the surveillance footage I've been watching obsessively for the past week. Kyra at her microscope, lost in research, unaware that every moment of her life is being catalogued. Even inharsh office lighting, even with Dmitri's labored breathing in the background, she's breathtaking.
"You want to know why I'm really angry, Dmitri?" I hold up the phone so he can see her image. "You stole money that could have been used to secure something precious."
"I don't understand," he whispers.
"You don't need to understand. You just need to remember." I slip the phone back into my pocket. "Get him to Dr. Peterson. Make sure this looks like an accident. And Dmitri—this is your only warning. There won't be a second one."
Watching him being escorted out, I'm already thinking about tomorrow, about the call I'll place to sweet Kyra in exactly twelve hours.
"Boss," Patrick says quietly as the door closes. "Professor McQuillan's research funding has hit its snag. Some 'concerns' about the ethical implications of her stem cell work."
Perfect. Another door closing in Kyra's academic world, another support structure crumbling without her understanding why. By the time I offer her the solution she needs, she'll be grateful enough to accept it.
"And the apartment situation?"
"Building inspection tomorrow morning. The landlord will receive a violation notice that requires immediate evacuation. Something about structural integrity and insurance liability." Patrick's smile is slight but satisfied. "She'll have nowhere to go except the shelter of concerned friends."
"Make sure those friends are suddenly unavailable. Work emergencies, family crises, whatever it takes." I pull down my sleeves, covering the more elaborate ink that marks my journey through Colorado's underworld. Kyra doesn't need to see those yet. The symbolism of what I've chosen to display and what I keep hidden will come later.
"Already handled. Her roommate Jessica has a family emergency in Kansas. Her study partner Mark just got called in for extra shifts. Her research partner Sarah is dealing with a sick mother." Patrick ticks off each manipulation efficiently. "By tomorrow night, she'll be desperate for any kind of support."
"And Aaron?"
