Ivy paced the length of the Everest Estate’s living room. Her hands trembled slightly as she pressed them against her temples, muttering to herself. "Grandpa, it’s not working."

Sam, sitting in his armchair, regarded her calmly. The old man was a picture of patience—silver hair combed neatly, and a mind sharp enough to outthink half the city. "It never works when you panic," he said quietly. "Sit, child. Breathe."

"I thought confronting him would make things clearer," she admitted. "But it’s like every time I see him, my plans melt. He says something, he looks at me, and I—" She shook her head, furious at herself. "It’s not supposed to be this hard."

After the loss of her child, Ivy had told her grandfather everything.

Hence tonight’s impromptu meeting. Across the room was Mike, the private investigator.

"First, we need to identify why it isn’t working," Sam said.

"I...I don’t..." Ivy started.

"You still love him," Sam confirmed simply.

"Oh, gramps..." Ivy’s resolve cracked. The tears came in a rush she hadn’t prepared for. She covered her face with both hands, shoulders trembling.

"Come here, sweetie. Come here." Sam set the walking stick aside and opened his arms. Ivy moved toward him. She fell to her knees and pressed her head against his lap.

His hand found her hair, smoothing it gently, fingers tracing comforting lines through her blonde curls.

"I thought he would be so angry with me that he wouldn’t even want to speak with me," she cried into the fabric of his trousers. "That’s what I banked this entire plan on! I thought if he hated me, it would be easier. I could focus. But...ugh..."

She lifted her head slightly, eyes red and glistening. "What does he want from me, gramps?"

"It’s simple," Sam said. "He loves you."

"Well, he shouldn’t!" she burst out, pulling away and standing abruptly. "I don’t want him to!" She paced in front of the fireplace.

"His father hurt me, gramps. He hurt my baby. How am I supposed to make Tom pay for what he did to us if Winn won’t let me breathe? If every time I see him, I just...I just fall apart."

"You mentioned you told him you were seeing someone?" Mike asked.

Ivy sniffed, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand before sinking onto the rug at her grandfather’s feet again. "Yeah?"

"Maybe, actually seeing this someone in person will help," Mike suggested.

"Oooh...I have the perfect candidate," Sam said, suddenly perking up as if he’d just been given the lead role in a secret operation. His weathered hands gripped the top of his cane, and his eyes gleamed.

"How long were you waiting to whip that out of your pocket?" Ivy asked, arching a brow.

Sam puffed up a little. "Well, before you told me about everything, I was thinking once your baby..." He faltered, eyes softening as his voice cracked slightly.

"I’m sorry. Insensitive of me." He cleared his throat, his thumb rubbing over the curve of his cane’s handle as if it were an apology in itself. "I was thinking when you were ready, that I would pair you with him."

"Gramps, I don’t need a real boyfriend. I need a fake boyfriend," Ivy said.

"Oh... oh... right." Sam’s head bobbed in slow realization. "Can’t help you there."

"I could be your fake boyfriend," Mike said smoothly. "It would serve as an excuse when I’m around you while we work on the case."

Ivy’s gaze snapped to him, her lips parting in disbelief. "No. Absolutely not. Evans will get suspicious. He’s just as paranoid as Winn. The similarities between those men, my gosh!" She rubbed her temples.

"We can bring in someone else," Sam said after a moment, tapping his cane against the hardwood again as he thought. "Pay someone to be your pretend boyfriend."

"I’m afraid," Mike said slowly, "that Mr. Everest will have me run a background check. And I will have to give him the true details."

"He would have you run a background check on someone I am dating?" Ivy raised a brow. "You’re telling me he’d actually do that?"

Mike gave a slow, unbothered shrug. "He runs background checks on everyone," he said simply.

"Is this how you raised him?" Ivy turned sharply to her grandfather, eyes narrowing in mild accusation.

Sam chuckled softly. "It’s how you survive in our world," he said. "Trust me, sweetheart, it’s better to live suspicious than to die surprised."

Ivy exhaled dramatically, dragging a hand through her hair. "Oh boy..." She shook her head. "So what do we do?"

Sam clapped his hands together. "How about this—let me still introduce you to this friend’s son," he began.

"You just wing it. You don’t have to commit to anything. Just invite him to social functions or dates where Winn can see you both together. No promises, no pressure. Just optics."

"I’d feel weird using someone that way." She looked down at her hands. "After everything, I don’t want to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it."

"You’ve been hurt enough to last ten lifetimes, Ivy. Sometimes, protecting yourself looks a little bit like cruelty. Doesn’t mean your heart’s gone cold."

Finally, Sam sighed and rose, resting one hand on his cane. "Just let me know what you decide," he said. "You have school in a bit. I’ll come with you."

"Are you sure? Shouldn’t you be resting?" she asked, worry knitting between her brows.

"When will you learn that I want to spend as much time as possible with you to make up for all the twenty-one years of your life I missed?"

"You’re making it hard to argue when you go all sentimental on me."

"Good. I plan to guilt-trip you into spending time with me until you stop questioning it," Sam quipped, his grin warm.

"Okay. But don’t wait until I am done," Ivy warned.

"I’ll hang around," Sam said. "Go to the movies, have dinner somewhere, and we’ll drive right back to pick you up."

Ivy didn’t bother arguing anymore; it was pointless. Sam was protective to a fault, and in truth, she couldn’t hate him for it. But she did feel like a pre-schooler instead of a grown woman trying to rebuild her life.