“I’m glad to hear it.” He poured himself some coffee from the stainless steel carafe, then reached for the cream dispenser. “Your mother was very happy to see you yesterday.”
No, she wasn’t! She can’t feel anything!
Cate worked hard not to show her frustration. “It was good to see her too,” she said meekly.
Her grandfather’s eyes narrowed, as if he knew she wasn’t being genuine, so she pasted on another smile, hoping this one looked more sincere.
God, keeping up the charade was unbearable sometimes. He acted like Ariana was alive, when every doctor who’d ever treated her insisted that she was gone. The machines kept her body functioning, but her mind and her soul and everything that had once made her a living, breathing human—that had been extinguished like a candle the moment she’d been shot.
Without technology, Ariana would have slipped away a long time ago, and sometimes Cate wished her grandfather would let it happen. At least then her mother could finally be at peace.
It seemed cruel to allow her to live that way.
Your grandfather is a very dangerous man.
Once again, Morgan’s warning crept into her mind. And once again, Cate rejected it.
Fine, so maybe her grandpa wasn’t in his right mind when it came to her mother, but that didn’t make him dangerous. He was simply a father who refused to grieve, and Cate suspected he blamed himself for Ariana’s attack. After all, it had been one of his business rivals who’d tried to kill him, only the attempt had gone horribly wrong and Cate’s mother had been hit instead.
“You need to see her more often.” Maurice’s cluck of disapproval jolted Cate out of her thoughts. “You know, when Ariana’s mother was alive, the two of them spent every waking moment together.”
“Are we going to visit her today?” She held her breath, praying with all her might that he’d say no.
“Of course we are.” He seemed surprised that she would even ask. “Ariana will be disappointed if we don’t.”
Fortunately, two of their maids entered the dining room before he could glimpse the frustration in Cate’s eyes. She hadn’t been able to mask it fast enough, and she knew her grandfather would be angry if he realized just how badly she wanted to avoid her mother.
The maids served breakfast in an efficient manner, setting down plates of steaming crepes, ceramic bowls piled with blueberries, little dishes of warm, melting butter. When Audrey, the younger of the women, placed a small bowl of strawberries in front of Cate, she smiled at the woman, a genuine smile this time. Audrey knew that strawberries were Cate’s favorite, and she always made sure to bring some out for her.
“Thanks, Audrey,” she told the brunette.
Audrey averted her gaze, and that was when Cate noticed her red-rimmed eyes. Had Audrey been crying?
Before she could ask whether Audrey was all right, the woman darted out of the room, with their other maid, Priscilla, at her heels. Cate could have sworn she heard the two females whispering on their way back to the kitchen, but neither her grandfather nor Nikolaus seemed to notice.
“Is everything okay with Audrey?” she asked.
Maurice glanced up from his newspaper. “I don’t see why not. Why do you ask?”
“She was acting strange just now...” Cate ended up shrugging. “Never mind. I was probably just imagining it.”
In the chair across from hers, Nik delicately cut into his food with his knife and fork. He took a bite of his crepe, which was piled with ham and melted Swiss cheese, then swallowed before focusing his blue eyes on Cate. “Did you have fun at the Eiffel Tower yesterday?”
“Uh-huh.” She popped a strawberry in her mouth, keeping her tone casual. “It was fun.”
“I didn’t get to talk to you when you got back from Ariana’s. You had already gone up to your room, and you didn’t join us for dinner.”
“I was trying to get a head start on the paper Monsieur Paschal asked me to write, so I asked Audrey to bring my dinner upstairs. And then I went to bed early.”
She was becoming an exceptionally good liar. Probably not something to be proud of, but she knew the truth wouldn’t go over well. Not only had she stayed awake all night, but she’d done it while clutching the disposable phone James Morgan had slipped into her hand at the tower yesterday.
She’d lain in bed riddled with indecision, wanting so badly to text him but not knowing what to say. She knew she couldn’t see him again until she spoke to her grandfather, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to see him again.
“Cate?”
She found Nik eyeing her expectantly. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked how your paper is going. Is this the one about the French Revolution?”
She nodded. “It’s going really well so far. Pretty much writing itself.”
“Well, let me know if you need any help.”
“I will.”
Audrey reentered the room at that moment with a glass pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. She ducked her head as she poured Cate a glass, as if trying to shield her face from view.
“I’m also getting help from Gabriel,” Cate added absently, watching as Audrey rounded the table to refill Nik’s coffee cup. “He’s really into all that history stuff. I should ask him to come over today to edit what I wrote.”
A soft wail broke the air.
Cate sharply glanced over in time to see Audrey covering up the anguished sound with a cough.
“I apologize,” the maid murmured. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She hurried off again, and this time Cate knew she hadn’t imagined a thing.
“Something’s wrong,” she said grimly. “May I be excused so I can go and talk to her?”
Nik abruptly scraped back his chair. “I’ll do it.” He glanced at Maurice, who appeared irritated by the disturbance. “Catarina is right—something is going on with the staff.”
A moment later, his footsteps echoed in the hall as he stalked toward the kitchen. Cate strained her ears, but she couldn’t make out any voices.
Frowning, she turned back to her grandfather. “What do you think happened?” Her breath hitched. “Oh gosh, do you think something happened to Audrey’s son?”
It was the only plausible explanation she could think of for Audrey’s visible distress. Cate had met Audrey’s young son earlier in the summer when she’d brought him to the estate so he could try to solve the hedge maze, and little Etienne was the sweetest kid Cate had ever met. She knew Audrey didn’t have a husband or any immediate family in the area, so Etienne was her entire life.
“I hope not,” her grandfather said, sounding worried now.
Cate couldn’t eat a bite as she waited for Nik to come back. When he finally did, she took one look at his face and knew that something terrible had happened.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “What did Audrey say?”
“Catarina...” Nik hesitated, and rather than return to his seat, he knelt down in front of her chair.
Her pulse kicked off in a gallop. “What’s going on, Nik? Why is Audrey so upset?”
Deep regret flickered in his eyes. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. Gabriel was in an accident.”
Cate’s heart lurched, then stopped beating altogether. “What? Oh my God! Is he okay?”
Nik’s long pause was even more terrifying than the nervous look on his face.
“Is he okay?” she repeated.
“I’m afraid not, sweetheart. He was riding his motorcycle yesterday and—”
“Vespa,” she choked out.
“—he was hit by a car. He wasn’t wearing a helmet, Cate. His neck snapped when he hit the ground...He died on impact.”
Horror slammed into her. “That’s not possible. He always wears a helmet!”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
She struggle
d for air, feeling like she’d just been struck in the chest with a sledgehammer. “I don’t believe it. You’re wrong.”
Nik and her grandfather exchanged a somber look, but she refused to acknowledge the sorrow hanging in the air.
Panicked, she flew off her chair and glared at Nik. “You must have got the details wrong. I’m going to talk to Audrey myself. I’m sure Gabriel is fine. He’s fine.”
Nik swiftly blocked her path. “He’s not fine, sweetheart. I know you don’t want to accept it, but I’m telling you the truth.” He met her eyes with a heavy sigh. “Gabriel is dead.”
Chapter 28
Gabriel was dead.
Dead.
Dead.
Cate’s brain kept getting stuck on that one word, unable to process the meaning behind it. Because Gabriel couldn’t really be dead, right? Nik was wrong. Audrey was wrong. They were all wrong.
But even as she repeated the mantra in her head—wrong, wrong, wrong—her aching heart told her to stop living in denial. She’d spoken to Audrey, who’d been in tears when she explained how Gabriel’s mother had phoned the estate to share the news with the staff. Cate had called Joséphine herself, who’d confirmed the tragic news.
Gabriel was gone. He was actually gone, and all Cate could do now was lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling. Numb.
Images of Gabriel flashed in her mind. His dark eyes shining with amusement as he teased her about not being able to finish that damn hedge maze. The dimple in his chin that popped out when he smiled. God, that lopsided smile. She would never get to see it again.
She suddenly realized how fleeting it all was. You always thought you had all the time in the world. You took it for granted that the people you cared about were always going to be there. But that wasn’t true, because Gabriel was gone, and now all she had left were the things she’d never get to do with him.
Hear him laugh. Hold him. Kiss him.
Her throat closed up, and somehow her thoughts shifted from Gabriel to Morgan, the man she’d run away from in the Eiffel Tower.
What if something happened to him too? James Morgan had been alive when she’d left him, but what if that changed? He ran a security company that specialized in military operations, a job that had danger written all over it. What if her father died protecting someone who’d hired him for security?
What if he was erased from her life the same way Gabriel was?
A rush of panic filled her chest, propelling her into action. She stumbled off the bed and dove into her walk-in closet, where she’d hidden the secret cell phone Morgan had given her. She had to contact him, tell him she needed to see him again.
To her surprise, after she turned on the phone and the screen came to life, she found a message already waiting for her.
Results are in. You’re my daughter.
The DNA test. Their samples must have been a match.
James Morgan was really her father.
Cate’s heart did the impossible—it soared and plummeted at the same time, as joy and unhappiness warred inside her. She realized that she couldn’t text him back, at least not until she spoke to her grandfather. She refused to sneak around for the rest of her life, which meant that if she wanted to have any sort of relationship with her father, her grandfather had to agree to it first.
Cate left the closet with determined strides. Now probably wasn’t the time to confront her grandfather, but she knew she couldn’t delay it any longer.
Gabriel’s death had left her ravaged and grief-stricken, but James Morgan was still very much alive, and she wasn’t about to lose a single additional second with him.
And who knew? Maybe her grandfather would react well to the news. Maybe he’d even allow her to see her father tonight. Morgan could stop by the house, talk to Maurice. They could face their past, come up with some kind of agreement, and plan out a visitation schedule of sorts.
She knew she’d find her grandfather in his study—he always went in there for a drink after dinner—but as she hurried down the spiral staircase, it occurred to her that he might have gone out to eat. Surely her grandpa wouldn’t have asked the staff to cook for him in the midst of a tragedy, right?
Turned out she was wrong, because when she walked past the dining room, she spotted Audrey collecting dishes from the perfectly set table.
Cate battled a burst of anger. He’d actually made the staff serve him dinner? When they were all grieving for Gabriel?
As she neared the study, she forced herself to swallow her resentment. She couldn’t be angry when she spoke to him. No, the only way to get him on her side was to state her case calmly and maturely, and hope that he understood how much she needed this.
Her bare feet didn’t make a sound on the marble floor as she approached the door. She heard voices behind it—Nik’s silky baritone, Maurice’s deep timbre. She raised her fist to knock, but froze when she caught the tail end of her grandfather’s remark.
“...did a good job taking care of the boy.”
Something about his tone made her blood run cold.
She slid closer and pressed her ear to the door, trying to make out Nik’s response.
“It was a difficult task. He wasn’t a bad kid. Just misguided.”
Wariness trickled down her spine, bringing a queasy feeling to the pit of her stomach. Were they talking about Gabriel?
“And you took care of the Morgan file you found in his custody?”
Cate sucked in a breath. The Morgan file? Oh God. Did they mean the same file she’d found and photocopied in her grandfather’s office?
The file she’d asked Gabriel to hide the night Nik walked in on them.
Panic darted inside her like a skittish animal, dampening her palms. She’d forgotten to ask Gabriel for the papers, which meant he’d probably had them on him when...when what? Had Nik and her grandfather somehow managed to find the photocopies?
“...swore he never showed them to her.” Nik again, firm and confident.
“...believe him?”
She strained to hear better, but they were speaking too quietly now.
“...very convincing.” Footsteps sounded from behind the door, and then Nik’s voice grew more audible. “...said the door was unlocked and he wandered past it on the way to see his mother. He found the file on the desk.”
“He’s lying. It was in a locked drawer. The little bastard must have picked the lock.”
“The question is...” Nik’s words became muffled again. “...his own curiosity? Or did Cate ask him to?”
Her pulse raced as the question hung in the air. They knew about the file. And for some reason, Gabriel had lied to them when they’d confronted him about it.
But it was only a matter of time before they figured out she was behind everything.
Except...that wasn’t even the terrifying part, she realized.
If she’d heard them right, then that meant...
Oh God.
Nik had killed Gabriel.
He’d taken care of the boy, as her grandfather had so casually referred to it.
A frightened yelp flew out of Cate’s throat.
Instantly, she slapped a hand over her mouth to cover up the sound, but it was too late. The voices in the study had gone quiet. Soft footsteps came toward the door.
She spun around, about to take off in a run, but she wasn’t fast enough.
The door swung open.
“Catarina?” Nik’s eyes widened when he spotted her, and then his expression grew wary. “How long have you been out there?”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All she was capable of doing was staring at him accusingly. Hatred gathered inside her and crawled up her body, bringing bile to her throat.
“Answer the question, Cate.”
She finally found her voice. “Long enough.”
“What exactly did you hear?”
“Everything,” she whispered. “I heard everything.”
Nik took a step forward. His mouth opened to say something, but the last thread of Cate’s control suddenly snapped, and she found herself lunging forward, pounding at his chest with her fists.
“You killed him!” she burst out. “You killed Gabriel!”
He grabbed at her hands, trying to still her frantic blows. “Catarina, stop it.”
“You killed him!”
She swung at him again, only to find her wrist locked between his strong fingers. A shadow appeared in her peripheral vision, and she swiveled her head to see her grandfather in the doorway.
“You’re mistaken, Catarina.” His voice remained calm, rippling with authority. “You misunderstood our discussion.”
“I didn’t misunderstand a goddamn thing!”
Maurice’s dark eyes flashed. “Watch your language.”
She ignored him, her breath coming out fast and erratic. “You found the file I gave him, and you tried to shut him up because you thought he hadn’t told me about it yet!” She directed a vicious glare at Nik. “You. Killed. Him.”
Maurice looked taken aback. “The file you gave him?”
A tornado of emotion spiraled through her as she met her grandfather’s eyes. Horror, triumph, agony, disbelief—she was too overwhelmed to concentrate on any one emotion. All she could focus on were the two men standing before her.
The two men who’d killed her best friend.
“I’m the one who snuck into your study. I’m the one who broke into that locked drawer and copied the file.” She was so enraged, so horrified, she could barely go on. “You lied to me. My father isn’t dead. You fucking lied.”
“But he is dead,” Maurice said stiffly. “The man in that file isn’t your father. He’s simply a business associate I had some dealings with in the—”
“Stop lying to me!” she roared. “He is my father! We did a DNA test to prove it!”
Silence crashed over them.
“That’s impossible,” her grandfather finally spat out, his expression revealing barely restrained fury.
“No, it’s not. I gave him a sample of my hair and saliva, and he took it to a lab, where they compared it to his DNA.”