A Wicked Song (Brilliance Trilogy Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  PLAYLIST

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  WALKER SECURITY RETURNS!

  THE SAVAGE TRILOGY

  ALSO BY LISA RENEE JONES

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the supplier and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at lisareneejones.com/contact

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. www.lisareneejones.com.

  A WICKED SONG

  The Brilliance Trilogy book two

  LISA RENEE JONES

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for grabbing your copy of A WICKED SONG! I’m so excited to see what you think about the next book in Kace and Aria’s story! If you haven’t already, please be sure you’ve read A RECKLESS NOTE (book one), it does need to be read prior to this book, and prior to continuing this letter as I’m about to give a short recap of book one.

  Aria Alard is really Aria Stradivari. She and her brother, Gio, are the last remaining family members of the Stradivari family, the family whose ancestor, Antonio Stradivari, created the infamous Stradivarius violins. Those violins are revered by artists worldwide, they now auction for millions of dollars and are coveted by those who have obtained ownership of the few that remain.

  Aria and Gio’s father went missing years ago, and their mother woke them in the night, and they fled to the states, to New York City, for safety. In New York, they started a new life, and hid, after their mother gave them the painful news that she believed their father was dead. For years, she taught them how to hide, and forbid them to be involved with music in any way, shape, or form. Years later, one fateful night their mother was killed in a mugging.

  Aria and Gio stuck together. They bought a building, running a collectibles shop, where they now live and work, hunting for treasures for collectors. Aria lives by her mother’s creed and keeps a low profile. Gio lives wild and free, bedding women, and taking risks.

  When book one opened, readers learned that Gio has been missing for a few weeks and Aria is desperately worried. While hunting for clues to find him in his office, she finds a romantic, sexy letter from a woman named Sofia written to Gio. To Aria’s anger and shock, the letter mentions a hunt to find the secret formula to create the Stradivarius instruments. Obviously, Gio has taken risk to a whole new level. There is also a mention of a violin going up for auction at the elite Riptide Auction House. Nervous about exposing herself, but seeing no other option, Aria heads to Riptide in hopes of finding clues that lead her to her brother. While her first contact, does not offer such results, she discovers there will be a VIP auction for the violin. She has to attend. Surely her brother, or maybe Sofia, will be there. This means earning an invitation from the ever-so-arrogant and pompous owner of Riptide, Mark Compton.

  She does so by charging into the restaurant he’s at and walking right up to his table. Mark is sitting with the famous artist Chris Merit, and the enigmatic, Kace August: a world-famous rock star violinist. Kace is a direct link to her past, to music, to her history, and a dangerous connection for her to make, but even in their first encounter, there is a spark destined to become a fire.

  Through the slow burn of them getting to know one another, Aria is also trying to keep her business, Accent Collectibles, which she runs with Gio, afloat. In doing so, she attempts to bid on a rare wine for a client of hers, but is outbid by Alexander Voss. Someone both her client and Kace August have a tenuous history with, though she doesn’t know much detail about either. Just that Kace and Ed don’t want her between them and Alexander, or with Alexander at all.

  Thanks to Mark Compton’s wife, Crystal, Aria gets the invite to the VIP auction, and it turns out both she and Kace are set to big on the Stradivarius violin. As part of the auction, Aria is allowed an early look at the violin, and searches for the very distinct markings that would confirm it is a real and true Stradivarius, sadly, she finds this one is a fake, and tells Mark as such. He refutes her claims, but she tells Kace anyways, and he trusts her enough to not bid on the violin.

  In a whirlwind of surrender and passion, Aria and Kace give in to their desires, and she ends up in Austin, TX with him for another of his charity concerts that he puts on with Chris Merit. Their time in Austin pulls them closer, and despite Aria’s reservations due to Kace being so engrained in a world that is still a threat to her, she is finding herself falling for this man.

  Kace eventually breaks Aria down and convinces her to reveal that her brother is missing. He wants to help and asks her to meet with his security team, Walker Security, to allow them to help find Gio. She begrudgingly agrees to meet with them. However, when they return to New York, and he allows her into his vault to inspect one of his Stradivarius violins, she cuts her hand and in her haste to find something to stop the bleeding she discovers profiles on her and her brother—with their real names attached and information on her family’s history. Shellshocked and heartbroken that Kace has known who she was all along, and deceived her, Aria runs from Kace’s place. And that’s where we pick up, with Aria bloodied, shattered, and scared…

  PLAYLIST

  Back 2 Good by Matchbox Twenty

  Pieces by Rob Thomas

  Somewhere With You Kenny Chesney

  Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence

  Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur

  Caprice No. 24 by Paganini

  Can I Be Him by James Arthur

  Pump Up the Jam by Technotronic

  Purple Rain by Prince

  Back in Black by AC/DC

  Dark Waltz by Hayley Westenra

  CHAPTER ONE

  I fly down the stairs of Kace’s apartment building with one thing on my mind: escaping. Kace August played me with his wicked song of seduction and now I have to get away from him. And so, I flee, bleeding inside and out—my heart, my mind, my hand.

  Quite literally, my hand is now dripping blood, adrenaline doing me no favors, and I have nothing to stop the flow. Halting a few flights down from Kace’s floor, with many more to travel to the lobby, my attempt to inspect my injury is thwarted by the stream of red. There is just too much blood.
Hands bleed a lot, I remind myself, a fact I learned years ago when Gio cut his finger. With blood now on the floor and no other option, I tug the end of my thankfully black T-shirt and wrap it around my palm where the wood stabbed me, trying to halt the flow.

  Applying as much pressure as I can, I plod down the stairwell, and instead of thinking about my injury, my mind is on the documents I’d found in Kace’s office. There had been photos, too, I now realize—photos of Gio, who was missing when I met Kace. In other words, they were taken before we met. I don’t even want to go to the many jagged places that realization could take me. I want to scream. I don’t know what to do aside from leave, regroup, and make plans that might include me on the run. Gio is missing and our identity has been discovered. The facts paint a grim picture.

  Finally, finishing my trek down the stairs, I depart the stairwell into the lobby, and somehow, by some miracle, I walk calmly toward the door, exiting the sliding glass doors, only to come face to face with the doorman, Steven.

  “Good afternoon, miss.” His eyes land on my hand that is balled in my shirt, but as my gaze follows his, I find blood dripping from my exposed fingers.

  He pales and his attention jerks to my face. “Oh my,” he says. “What can I do to help? I’m here to serve.”

  “Thank you. I—ah—think the shock got the better of me. I left without a towel. Would you have a towel or bandage? And can I get a taxi please to get me to the hospital to stitch this up?”

  “Right away.” He shouts out commands to several employees and then refocuses on me. “Should I call Kace, or does he know?”

  “Just the towel and taxi, please.”

  As if on cue, someone hands me a towel that I wrap around my hand while Steven whistles for a cab. “Thank you,” I say again, becoming aware of the trembling of my body, though I’m not sure if that’s about the cut to my hand or the deep wound Kace has sliced into my heart. The cab pulls to a stop just in front of me. I rush toward the car, and Steven is there before me, opening the rear door. “Thank you so much,” I say, climbing inside.

  Steven leans into the back with me and instructs the driver, “Get her to the ER.” He then looks at me. “I’ll call Kace and let him know where you’re going.” I open my mouth to argue, but he’s already gone and shutting me inside.

  I quickly lean forward and speak to the driver, reciting my home address before I settle back into my seat. I was never going to the ER, not when I know that Kace will show up. Why wouldn’t he? I’m the key to a door he wants open. We were never about anything but my last name and the violin he loves. The formula to make that violin is worth so much money, I can’t even fathom the number.

  I glance at the white towel now around my hand, and so far, blood is not peeking though. I’m okay. The wound is closing. My eyes pinch shut and I press my good hand to my face and will myself not to cry. Not here. Not when I’m in this car. I’ll melt down when I’m alone at home and then pull myself back together, and decide if home is even safe anymore. It’s conceivable that Kace might be my enemy, but I remind myself, and sternly, that my heart isn’t how I should make any future judgments about Kace August.

  My phone starts to ring and I know it’s him, I know it’s Kace, and I let it ring. A second thought has me thinking of Gio, who I really need to hear from right now. I reach for my cell, struggling to remove it from my purse, and damn it, blood is seeping through the towel. I manage to snag my phone and glance at the screen. Sure enough, it’s Kace. I hate how much I want to answer, how much I want to hear his voice. How much I want him to explain himself and make the lie good enough for me to pretend it’s true. He knew who I was before we ever started dating and he didn’t tell me. Who am I kidding? Every moment with him was a lie.

  I hit decline and thirty seconds later, my cell starts to ring again. I hit decline again, but I’m not turning my phone off. Not when Gio could call. I know it’s wishful thinking, of course. I know it’s time I face that fact and really do something about his absence, but not today. Today, I cling to hope. Today, that hope includes me willing Gio to call me. I silence the ringer on my cell. In turn, my phone buzzes with a text message: Steven just called and told me you cut yourself. I’m on my way to meet you at the hospital. Answer, baby. I’m worried about you.

  I read that endearment with a twist of my gut and hear, “Baby.”

  I’m not his baby or his fool anymore.

  Unbidden, tears spill down my cheeks. I was falling in love with him. I was falling hard and as much as I’ve told myself “alone” worked for me, right now, alone feels pretty horrible. And I don’t know what to do. Suddenly, I need to be both on the offensive and defensive. If Kace was after the formula for the Stradivarius—and obviously he was, or rather is—am I in danger? I think I might need to pack a bag and at least go to a hotel for a few nights while I think this through.

  The cab halts and we’re now idling in stand-still traffic. This doesn’t work. I can’t just sit here and bleed. I have to wrap my hand properly and decide if some sort of medical attention is mandatory. A few years back when Gio cut his hand on broken glass, he bled like a stuck pig, but he didn’t need stitches. He was fine. I might be fine. I hope I’m fine. I yank my emergency cash from my purse, cash my mother taught me to keep at all times, and toss a twenty over the seat before opening the door. Once I’m on the street, the fact that I do not have a coat is bitingly clear. It’s cold, like really cold, as it always seems to be at Halloween, which is now only days away. I scratch the idea of walking and hurry to the subway, ignoring all the stares at my bloody towel. The shock is wearing off and my brain is working, and so too, it seems, are my pain receptors. A throb is becoming real pain, but I have the mental fortitude to think of tetanus. I don’t remember the last time I had a shot. I clearly have to go to the doctor.

  Once my ride is over, and I’m street level again, it’s a short but bitterly cold walk and then I’m at my place. I dig for my keys, but my one free hand is freezing. I finally catch them in my fingers but drop them. And my god, I’m losing my mind. I can just plug in the security code and open the door. Flustered, I kneel and gasp as a man kneels in front of me. I blink Alexander into view, his timing uncanny and uncomfortable.

  “What are you doing here?” I sound snappy. I just can’t help it.

  “Apparently playing hero,” he says, catching my arm and staring at the bloody towel. “What the hell happened to your hand?”

  “I cut it on a piece of wood. I’m assuming I need to get stitches.”

  “I don’t have to look at it to know, that yeah, based on the amount of blood, you need stitches. There’s a minor emergency a few blocks over. Let’s go there now.”

  “No, I—”

  He pulls me to my feet, causing a dizzying rush that’s momentarily blinding. “You’re gushing blood,” he insists. “I don’t know why you’re standing here right now when you need to get medical attention.” He snakes his key from his pocket. “I’m in the delivery zone. I saw you walking and pulled over to catch you. Just come with me. I’ll get you where you need to go.”

  “Alexander, no, I—”

  “You need a doctor,” he insists. “My help comes with no obligation, Aria. Contrary to anything Kace August has told you, I’m not that kind of an asshole.”

  “I don’t have it in me right now for whatever war you’re fighting with Kace.”

  His lips press together. “Let me help you,” he prods softly. He dangles his keys. “Let’s go get you fixed up.”

  He says this help comes with no agenda, but we both know it does. I don’t want to go with him, but my head spins and my towel is drenched. Logic and good sense must prevail—thus I say, “Yes. Thank you.”

  His broad shoulders beneath his ridiculously expensive suit relax slightly. “This way.” He steps to the side to allow my progress forward, his hand settling at my back. I’m aware of his hand but not because I’m aware of him. It’s the opposite. I’m aware of how li
ttle he affects me, and of how intensely Kace affects me. Our connection felt real but I’m not sure if that matters or tells me anything at all. I’m not sure anything will until later when I’m alone.

  Alexander opens the passenger door, and I slide into his fancy Porsche, a beast, as Kace would call it. Actually, the car, and its description by Kace, is appropriate, considering Alexander is a bit of a beast himself. He’s all force to Kace’s sweet seduction, but that’s the thing about seduction, it isn’t always so sweet at all.

  I’m struggling with my seat belt when Alexander settles into the driver’s seat and comes to my aid, catching it and helping me seal it into place. Our hands touch and while there is nothing electric about the connection, I feel an awareness, his wholly male awareness. I yank my hand back and why do I feel like I’m betraying Kace? We are not a couple. Not anymore. I’m not sure anything between us was real, except my intense reactions to him. That was real. That was consuming.

  My phone buzzes with a message and I ignore it. Alexander cranks the car. “Need to get that?”

  I rest my head back on the leather cushion and shut my eyes. “No.”

  “How’d you cut your hand?” Alexander asks.

  My lashes lift but I don’t look at him. “A wooden drawer,” I say, and my gaze shifts to the window. Only then do I realize that he’s already pulled away from the curb. Actually, we’re not even on my street anymore.

  “That doesn’t seem like a sharp object,” he comments.

  “A chunk of wood was sticking out,” I say, my lashes lowering again. “Maybe there was steel or a nail, too. I just don’t know.”

  “And you were alone with this wooden drawer?”

  I jerk my head up and look at him. “Yes.” That’s all I offer and I feel no temptation to expand on my answer. I’m a practiced master of one-word replies. “Where is this minor emergency?” I ask, peeking out of the window.

  “Right here,” he says, pulling me to the door of a building with a big red cross on the front. “I told you it was close. You go in and get attention. I’ll park and be right in.”