She hurries off and I turn to find Bastile charging toward me. “What was that about?”
“The display I was looking for is missing. She’s trying to find out if it’s still in the building.” I cross my arms in front of me. “We just have to wait for her and pray. Otherwise—”
“You said nothing else?”
“Wait with me. She’ll be right back. Or do you need to hold up the door?”
The attendant hurries back to me and sticks to the plan. “I’m sorry. It’s just not available here. I’m checking another store. Will you be in the area awhile? Can you check back in an hour?”
“I will,” I say. “And I’ll come back.”
“Excellent,” she confirms. “I’ll try to have good news.”
I give her a tiny nod. “Thank you,” I say, and then turn to face Bastile, who’s scowling at me.
“Are you about to tell me that you don’t have what we came here for?” he demands.
“I’m telling you we’ve hit a bump in the road. The display is in one of the other locations. I hid it in a drawer attached to it. We’ll find it.”
“He is not going to be pleased.”
Like I don’t know that, but I hold my tongue. We head back to the door, but once we’re there, he holds the handle and looks down at me. “Should you contemplate putting those CIA skills to use, and try to save your friend, know this: We trained you. We planned for you. We have a man with a gun following your every step back to the car.”
But I know Neuville won’t kill me.
“And if you just thought Neuville won’t kill you, he gave us permission to hurt you. Badly. He seems to like the idea of you trapped in bed indefinitely. He said to tell you he thought that might finally break you.”
Damn. “I was thinking about how to find the display,” I say blandly.
He smirks. “Of course you were,” he says, and then opens the door.
I exit into the chilly night air I hadn’t even noticed before now, my mind racing. My plan had been to take his gun, open the car door and shoot Neuville, then shoot his driver and save Sara. I can’t be sure Kayden’s people, even if watching me, know about a sniper, who may or may not exist. And I don’t plan on being in anyone’s bed but Kayden’s. The tricky part of getting in that car is having no gun. If I snap Neuville’s neck, the driver can turn a gun on me, and it will be hard to take away from him with the seats between us.
My mind firm now that I’ve told Kayden where I am, I just need to get us to the next chocolate shop location. I’ll grab Bastile’s gun when I’m about to exit, and immediately claim shelter back inside the car. Plan decided upon, now I need to convince Neuville to go to another store.
Bastile opens the door and I climb inside the limo, finding Sara smashed to Neuville’s side while he strokes her hair. Sick bastard.
“Where is my necklace?” he demands, the door sealing me inside.
“It’s in a display drawer, and that display was shipped to another store. We need to go to the location by the Notre Dame cathedral.”
He calls over the seat for the driver to get Bastile. The driver rolls down the window and calls for Bastile. The next instant, a challenging development occurs. Bastile opens the door and gets in beside me. He repeats what I’ve said, in French. “The woman said to check in with her in an hour.”
Neuville’s eyes turn hot and sharp on me. “What game are you playing, Ella?”
“This is not a game. You know what Matteo told you. You know what was on the security feed you watched.”
“I know you know where that necklace is. I see it in your eyes. In the defiance you think I don’t understand. But I did break you in ways you don’t wish to accept. And I will break you now.”
He looks at Bastile and spits out a command, and Bastile pulls his gun and points it at Sara. “Here’s what going to happen,” Neuville says, yanking Sara across his lap. “I’m going to fuck her while you watch unless you tell me where it’s at. If you try to stop me from fucking her, Bastile will shoot her.”
“No,” Sara says. “No.” She shoves against him and he laughs.
“I’m going to enjoy this.” He grabs her hair and there’s a struggle.
I go to the place where I find control and calm, because this is the moment I’ve waited months for. Bastile’s management of his weapon is pathetic, his supposed respect for my skills lacking. He thinks I’m small. He thinks he’s strong. He’s right, but those things don’t matter.
I count to three in my mind, and then act. I take Bastile’s gun and I’m in his lap, straddling him, the gun at his chest and trigger pulled before he even knows what happened. The next second, I rotate, and I’m sitting in the lap of a dead man. The driver rotates, a gun in his hand he intends to use on me, and thankfully I have a clear shot. I hit him between the eyes and my gun is now on Neuville, who has Sara’s dress to her waist.
“Let her go,” I order, and slowly, too slowly, he eases his grip on her.
Sara scrambles out of his lap and as soon as she’s against the door, she slams her foot in his face. He growls and reaches for her and I land a foot in his groin, doubling him over. His phone is on the seat and I grab it, dialing Kayden and moving off of Bastile, who I shove against the door.
He answers quickly. “Who is this?” and just the sound of his voice, knowing he’s absolutely alive, sends a rush of relief though me.
“Kayden.”
“Ella,” he breathes out. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m at the chocolate shop.”
“Is it safe to send Sara out to you?”
“Yes, and I’m coming to you.”
I end the call. “Get out of the car, Sara.”
“Not without you.”
“Get out of the car, Sara, so I can kill the bastard.”
Neuville straightens. “You think Evil Eye is bad? Kill me, and the wrath I have planned for Kayden will make him wish he were dead.”
The door opens to my right and Kayden slides in beside me, the smell of him so masculine and safe and him, and the feel of his presence is like a breath of air I didn’t think I’d ever take in again.
“Your husband says to get out of the damn car, Sara,” he tells her.
“Chris,” she whispers, and she’s out of the car.
“Why is he still alive, sweetheart?” Kayden asks.
“Because she knows killing me comes with a price,” Neuville replies.
“Is there a plan we need to follow?” I ask.
“The plan includes hurrying the fuck up. He’s your prize. Do it and let’s move.”
Neuville has gone quiet, his eyes meeting mine, and I see in their depths that he knows what’s coming. He accepts it. He even challenges me to do it.
“This seems too easy, too humane. I thought we’d punish him.”
“And as much as I love how you think, we just need him gone, and to deal with the logistics.” Kayden raises his gun. “You or me? Let’s just do it.”
I point my gun at Neuville’s groin and shoot him, his scream radiating through the air. I let him feel the pain, just for a few seconds. I just have to let him feel it. And then I lift my weapon and shoot him in the head. He’s dead. The monster lives no more. Kayden grabs my arm and helps me out of the car, and Adriel is there waiting. “Where’s Sara?”
“We just put her and Chris in a car on the way to the airport,” he says. “I’ve got this mess.”
“We’ll meet Chris and Sara there,” Kayden tells me, and another car pulls up. “That’s our ride.”
We climb into the backseat, and I don’t know the driver nor do I care who he is. Not when Kayden’s taken my gun and is now cupping my face. “Ella,” he whispers, his mouth closing down on mine, in a deep, passionate, drink-me-in kiss that I return with all that I am. And when we come up for a breather, we linger there, breathing together, and fo
r me, finally breathing again, I realize.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he confesses, a tormented quality in his voice that I feel straight to my soul, an echo of exactly what I’d felt. “Are you okay?”
“He’s dead. That makes me absolutely fucking fabulous.” My hand flattens on Kayden’s chest, and I can feel his heart thundering under my palm. “He just . . . and I . . .”
“Tell me he didn’t—”
“No,” I say, saving the part about the tattoo for later, when we’re alone. “He didn’t.” I lean back to look at him, focus on the things that won’t take me places I can’t go right now. “Matteo’s dead. Neuville had him killed.”
“We found him, and my only regret was that I didn’t get to do it myself.”
“What about Gallo? Did you kill him?”
“Gallo came clean. Like I said, he’s a good cop and that part of him won over the hate. Especially when Neuville threatened the lives of his sister and other civilians. He was afraid to warn me on the phone, or I would have gotten to you sooner to prevent this.”
“I was rooting for him,” I say. “I’m glad he wasn’t one of the bad guys.”
We turn down the street where Neuville lives, or rather lived, and I stiffen, sucking in air as memories assail me, flying through my mind as if I’m skimming pages in a book.
“I’ll go in,” Kayden says, his hand squeezing my leg, and I blink to realize we’re already in front of Neuville’s insanely expensive home, a black stone building in one of the most expensive areas of the city.
“No,” I say. “He’s dead. His ghost isn’t going to haunt me. We came for the necklace, and I know where I put it.”
Our driver opens the gates, clearly possessing the code, and it’s not long before I’m in the marbled foyer, with many people, including Blake, in my path.
“Holy fuck, woman!” He charges forward and hugs me. “Thank you for saving her.” He leans back and looks at me. “I’ve gotten fond of those two, and had no idea just how deep this shit really was.”
“I’m the reason she needed to be saved,” I say, the words rasping out of my suddenly raw throat.
He gives me a probing stare. “That sounds like ten years of therapy that you won’t get, so just talk to her. She still loves you, I promise you.” He glances at Kayden. “Chris is another story. He’s going to want to hurt someone.”
“I’m sure it will be a fun plane ride to Italy.”
I glance at Kayden. “They’re coming with us?”
“Just until the dust settles and Blake finishes up here,” he says, his hand settling possessively on my back.
“Since when are you doing Underground cleanup?” I ask Blake.
“Since it makes damn sure my clients, who I also consider friends, aren’t attached,” he explains.
Kayden’s fingers flex at my back. “Let’s get this done and get out of here.”
I nod and hurry forward, making a beeline for the kitchen, a stunning room of navy, green, and white, pausing at the table where I find three dead men posed.
“Meet Neuville’s second and third, as well as Alessandro. He’s the one with the goatee,” Kayden says.
“Something tells me Neuville’s promise to make your life hell if he died isn’t going to go so well,” I say.
“The only thing the French mob is going to be thinking about right now is saving themselves from Niccolo, and dealing with law enforcement,” he says. “The police will find these three, and Neuville, in a few hours, after receiving reports of gunfire.”
“That works,” is all I say, and that’s all the thought I give them. They’re monsters better removed from this world, and I’m here for a reason. I go to the navy-tiled island and point to the silver, rectangular light fixture running the length of it. “It should be there, on this side.”
“You can’t even reach up there,” Kayden points out.
“That was the idea,” I say. “I had to climb up to put it there.”
He reaches over the top of the light and lo and behold, he produces the necklace. I let out a sigh. “Three hundred million dollars. There it is.”
“There it is.”
He sets it on the counter and opens a drawer underneath, removing a jewelry case. “This is our little special touch to the crime scene, which I put here for safekeeping until we’re ready to leave.” He opens the box to display a second butterfly necklace. “A five-million-dollar perfect replica,” he explains. “Adriel will place it in Alessandro’s pocket. The British government is going to pick it up and put it in their protective care. We’ll keep the real necklace. Our goal was to protect the real necklace when we found it, and we completed that process today. Now, if the fake is stolen, this won’t start all over again.”
“Where will we keep it?”
“We have a private vault under the castle,” he says. “No one but me, and now you, knows about it.” He places the fake necklace back in the drawer. “Adriel will make it all come together.”
Then he picks up the real necklace. “Let’s go back home, Ella.”
“Yes. Home.”
And for the first time in perhaps my entire adult life, and in the face of such horrible events, I feel like I have a home. And that home is Kayden.
We arrive at the airport, parking in a private hangar, and I’ve never wanted time to talk to Kayden and be with him more. I want every detail about this day’s happenings, as he does from me, but even more, I just want him.
“Time to go take whatever blows Chris Merit has for me,” he says, reaching for the car door.
“This is on me, not you. And I fear that Sara now hates me, which guts me, but how can I blame her?”
He kisses me. “She won’t hate you. I promise. Let’s go prove me right.”
We leave the car and cross the pavement, and we’re at the top of the steps to the plane when he says, “Let me deal with Chris first.”
I nod and he enters, with me following, and sure enough, the two men huddle up, voices deep and a bit rough.
Sara steps into the aisle, her dress torn, her hair and makeup a mess, but the minute we make eye contact, I know I haven’t lost her. She tears up and so do I, and then we’re hugging. “I’m so sorry,” I say, cupping her head.
“Just tell me you killed him.”
“I did.” I lean back and look at her. “I shot him in the groin first. Then I killed him.”
She nods. “Good. You’re so badass! I thought you were—”
“I know, and I’ll explain everything later. Just know this: I’m sorry for the lies, but I love you. I know I’m not what I seem, but I love you. I can explain.”
Chris appears above her shoulder with no anger in his face, just relief. “Thank you for risking your life to save her,” he shocks me by saying, his hands settling on her shoulders.
“I just . . . I know I can’t be around Sara and keep her safe, but don’t shut me out completely. There are ways—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Chris says. “Right now, Kayden needs you as much as I need her.”
“Yes.” Sara and I hug again and I move down the aisle to where Kayden waits. “How bad was it?” I ask as we buckle in.
“He’s a good man,” he says. “And he knows Sara loves you, but he’s worried about her safety.”
“Of course he is.”
Kayden’s phone rings. He takes the call and manages some details on the ground, and by the time he’s done we’re taxiing onto the runway. And then we’re in the air, the ride smooth when the day has been anything but that, and a surreal feeling comes over me.
“It’s done,” I say. “It’s really done.”
“Yes. It is.” He unbuckles his seat belt and goes down on a knee in front of me to unbuckle me as well. “Ella. What you did today was nothing shy of incredible. You are the most amazing person. You’re bra
ve. Passionate. Caring. I am so lucky to have found you. You are a Lady Hawk like no other could ever be.”
“And the same is true of you, my Hawk.”
“I can’t give you complete safety. Today proved that, and you proved you can handle that.”
“I can. I just hate that we can’t trust everyone around us.”
“We’ll find a way to never have another Matteo. Together.”
“I was afraid you’d—”
“Shut you out? I can’t. You’re in my heart and soul, Ella.” He reaches to his seat and produces a velvet box. “Will you marry me?”
I smile. “I already said yes.”
“Not with a ring.” He opens the lid and I gasp at the perfect circle of a pale pink diamond.
“Pink,” I whisper, smiling at him. “Like my ballet slippers?”
“Yes. Because that Hawk on your arm is the warrior in you, and the ballet slippers are the woman. I want you to be both. I want you to feel you can be both with me, and as much as I want to protect you, I vow to let you be both.”
I start crying. “I think this warrior has shut down for the day.”
“She deserves a break,” he says, taking the ring out of the case and slipping it on my finger. And it’s a perfect fit, like the man, The Hawk. My future husband.
Kayden and I talk the entire flight, and it’s early morning when we approach the Rome airport. We’ve just hit the runway when his phone rings, and he quickly pulls up the news on his iPad, playing a video story:
In a scandalous and shocking breaking story, French and British officials are at the home of Garner Neuville, long known to be the head of the French mob. He and two of his highest-ranking members were found dead, along with a man name Alessandro Abate, an Italian national who is known to run a notorious treasure-hunting operation. At the center of the dispute is a necklace worth three hundred million dollars, stolen more than a decade ago from the British government.
“And now,” Kayden says, “it’s over.”
“What about Niccolo?”
“He’ll hyper-focus on trying to take over the French mob until he dies. But Neuville’s fourth won’t let that happen.”