Huxley finishes off his food, but I’ve yet to touch mine. “We have a protective detail on your parents. My connection is currently arranging to move them somewhere safe.”
“I just don’t get it. Why go through all this trouble for Arlo. You said it yourself that he’s a coward. The most he could do is squeeze out my father from their joint practice, but he has already left to go back to his previous partners.”
“If you insist on talking about this, then you need to eat.” He takes the fork and knife from my hands and begins to cut up my French toast. He brings a forkful to my mouth, and I open. We continue this way for a few more bites before he speaks again.
“I’m not sure how much you know about your fiancé, but he has connections to the Russian Mafia. He’s not one of them, but he cleans their money through his practice. His hands are soiled from all the underground shit he partakes in. He has aspirations to be more than just their cleaner, but the rebellion of first you and then your father threatens that. He has to regain that control if he wants to be taken seriously.”
I let him feed me some of the eggs and bacon, trying to digest the bomb he has once again laid in my lap. I’m scared to ask the next question because I’m not sure I really want to know the answer.
“Does my father know about any of this? The dirty money, I mean.”
Huxley’s hesitation tells me all that I want to know before his mouth does.
“Yes. The dirty money is how Arlo and his father were able to start such an expensive venture that caters to the rich. The pair of them have always been on the radar for seedy practices. They used your father’s pristine reputation to seem more legit.”
“I can’t believe my father would be a part of something like this,” I gasp.
Huxley finishes his orange juice. “Your father is a good man. Never doubt that. He would never knowingly put you or your mother in harm's way. I don’t know him personally, but that’s the feedback I received. Once your father found out what was going on with the money laundering, he stayed to protect you. When you got the courage to run from it all, he thought it was enough to finally make his exit. You were no longer under Arlo’s thumb.”
“But it wasn’t enough, was it?”
“No. Arlo has to save face, and he’s planning on using the Mafia to make a statement.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “I need to talk to my father. I need to know that he is safe.”
“We’re handling it. We can’t risk you being found. The Russians have a multitude of connections at their disposal. If they find you, it will weaken your father. He would have to come out of hiding. He’d be at their mercy.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until the tears trickle down my cheeks. “Please tell me who hired you.”
“Benjamin,” he answers simply.
“Surely, it’s not the same Benjamin that my last beatdown was over.”
“It is,” he confesses.
“I don’t understand. He’s just an ordinary guy who I sympathized with. His wife works for Arlo.”
“He’s FBI, Goddess. They’ve been working to bring down Arlo, but he is small fry. They want his connections. Your kindness went a long way with Benjamin. He knew from your interaction with him that you weren’t a part of that world, thus his measures to protect you.”
I’m stunned silent for the second time. This is so much worse than I initially thought.