A Sinful Encore (Brilliance Trilogy Book 3) Page 7
And so I say, “Do what you have to do.”
His eyes narrow, his expression all hard lines and shadows, but he gives me a tiny nod, and for just a moment, I find the hint of approval in his eyes. “I will.”
And with that, I step aside and allow Mark to join him in the doorway. The two men disappear and Crystal disconnects her call. “Finally,” Crystal says. “Sorry about that.”
She looks lovely in an emerald green dress, her blonde hair around her shoulders. She holds up a box. “A bakery brought me cupcake samples. They want us to use them for events. Help me taste test?”
“I don’t need to be asked twice,” I assure her and we settle in at her small round conference table across from each other.
“What better way to stomach Alexander than with sweets,” she says, opening the lid and showing me a half dozen of the yummy looking treats with a variety of pastel colors.
“That’s a box of happiness,” I say. “Well, if they taste good.”
“Agreed. Nothing worse than a dry cupcake that pretended to be good by looking pretty.”
“A bit like Alexander.”
She laughs and hands me a fork. “It is, isn’t it?”
I laugh and we start sampling. The cupcakes aren’t dry. They’re delicious and after we both proclaim our approval, Crystal shifts back to the topic of bad people who hide in pretty packages. “What do you want to do about Alexander?” she asks.
“I’d normally be highly opinionated,” I say, “but there’s a lot more to the war between Kace and Alexander than you and Mark know. I told Kace Mark needs to know. He controls Kace’s power of attorney. He needs to know.”
“I thought he trusted Mark?”
“His silence isn’t about trust. It’s just about how this situation makes him feel.”
“Then it’s something Mark will understand more than Kace probably can imagine.” I expect her to ask for details, and I like her all the more when she doesn’t. Instead, she leans closer. “Care to bet on what the outcome will be?” She walks to a fridge and returns to hand me a bottle of water.
I accept the water as she sits back down. “I think Kace needs time to decide what to do about Alexander. I think he’ll ask you to sell Alexander the wine and let him believe he’s won.”
“With or without you?” I ask.
“Without me. Kace doesn’t want me anywhere near Alexander.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
“I am, but thank you for looking out for me. I do want to work with Riptide.”
“Good. I’m emailing you a couple of big items. See what you can do with them.”
“I will. Thank you.”
She studies me a moment. “How are you doing after all that went down in San Francisco?”
“You said, Sara talked to you?”
“In coded language—she didn’t want to break your trust with her—but I’m good at reading between the lines.”
“Let me make it easier. I am who you think I am and I’m going to go public. You can use my name to sell tickets to an event or two, I bet,” I joke.
She looks appalled. “I would never do that.”
“It might not be so bad. At least I can be me.”
Her eyes soften. “I know hiding has been hell.” Her hands cover mine. “But are you sure it’s safe to come forward?”
Her concern is a two-sided coin—a reminder of the years I’ve spent alone with no one worrying about me, and at the new season of my life with Kace and new friends. “Blake believes it’s the right move,” I say, “and honestly, Crystal, I don’t want to go on like this any longer. I don’t want to hide.”
“When I met Mark, he had a situation going on. It’s a long story, but let’s just say a bit of a stalker problem. The attention turned to me and Walker saved my life.”
My eyes go wide. “Oh my God.”
“I’ll tell you the whole story over drinks one night.”
“I think you and me and Sara need a whole lot of drinks to talk about all the stuff in our lives.”
She laughs. “That’s the truth, but bottom line: you’re in good hands with Walker. What’s the plan? If you’re okay with talking about it?”
“We’re going to Italy, back to where it all started. Other than that, I’m not sure. Blake has men on the ground there, making sure they’re ready for me.”
The phone on Crystal’s desk buzzes before a female voice says, “There’s a call for Aria.”
I go cold inside. A call for me? My eyes meet Crystal’s and hers tell a story. She knows this is a problem. “Who is it?” Crystal asks.
The receptionist replies with, “She says she’s a personal friend of Aria’s.”
I grab my phone. “I’ll be right there,” I call out, and eye Crystal. “Get Kace, please. I’m calling Blake.”
She’s already standing, rushing for the door. Blake answers on the first ring. “Aria? Everything okay?”
“No. I’m at Riptide with Crystal. Someone just called the reception desk for me. She says she’s a personal friend.”
“We’re not monitoring that phone. That means this person’s smart. I’m going to try to trace the call now. Answer it on speaker. Record the call. Do you know how to do that on your phone?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Go now before they hang up. Understand?”
“Yes.” He disconnects.
I rush to the desk and watch the red light turn off. I’m too late. The caller hung up. “Damn it,” I murmur.
The phone buzzes again. “I’ve got that caller for Aria back on the line.”
I pull up the recorder on my phone. “Put it through,” I say, and when the light goes red this time, I answer. “This is Aria.”
Kace appears in the doorway and I hold a finger to my lips to silence him. A familiar female voice I can’t quite place breaks through the line and says, “I can’t believe you’re alive. I only found you because I was watching Kace, waiting for the day he found you. I knew he would.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, as Kace rounds the desk and kneels beside me, in front of the phone.
“Did you find the one true daisy in the wind?” the woman asks, avoiding my question.
Kace and I share a look of understanding and I say, “I did. What were you telling me?”
“Tell me what it means to you,” she orders.
“I’m not doing that,” I say, aware she could be fishing for an answer rather than offering them to me.
“No,” she says. “No, of course not. You don’t trust me. You shouldn’t trust me. But tell me this: did Kace tell you what it means?”
It’s a question that exposes Kace’s knowledge of the words, his connection to my father, and I look to him for approval. He offers a small nod and I say, “Yes. He did.”
“Good. I wasn’t sure he would, and yet that still doesn’t mean you can trust him. They could have gotten to him.”
“Who is they?” I ask quickly.
“The men who took your father. After all of these years, they found me. I was with him that day. He helped me escape. They found me. They took the journal he gave me to give to you when you were eighteen. And now they know what I know.”
My lips part in surprise. My father gave this woman, whoever she is, a journal to keep for me? Why her and not my mother? My mind chases her voice. It’s still so familiar. Kace taps my finger, jolting me back to the conversation that could end at any moment. “Who took my father?”
“You’re better off not knowing. I wish I didn’t know. I wish this didn’t hit so close to my home and yours, but it does. The bottom line is, they know what I know now.”
“Which is what? What do you know? What do they know?”
“The formula can be found with the one true daisy and you.”
It’s what my brother said. It’s what he said Sofia believed. “What does that mean?”
“That’s for you to figu
re out. This is it for me. I’m done or almost done. I’m all but finally out of this.”
I can sense she’s going to hang up, and she quickly says, “He’s dead, honey. You know that as well as he knew you were the future of the Stradivari family. Watch your text messages. You’ll hear from me one last time.” And then she hangs up.
CHAPTER TEN
Kace stands and takes me with him. “I want you out of here until we know exactly what that was.” Just that quickly, he has me rounding the desk and I don’t have a moment to process. Adrian is in the doorway before we ever exit the office.
“We want you out of here,” he announces, an obvious echo of Kace’s sentiments.
My heart is racing with the assumed danger that call has created, and some part of me, an illogical, rebellious part of me, resists our departure. This place is a part of my future and I’m done letting the past control me. We came here for a reason: to deal with Alexander, and we still have to deal with him. But another more logical part of my mind knows that danger overflows to others. We have to leave and I succumb to the inevitable. I offer a tiny nod of agreement and Adrian backs into the hallway. Kace’s hand is warm on my lower back, guiding me out of the office, where Adam is waiting for us, but there is no lingering to chat. Adam motions for us to follow him and Kace's arm encloses my waist, trapping my hip to his hip, my leg to his leg, and with Adrian at our rear, we begin our pace forward. It’s unnerving to have all three men pace me through the luxury of the Riptide hallway and lobby as if they expect someone to jump from the shadows at any moment. I walked into Riptide at ease, among new friends, chasing a new career, and I’m walking out surrounded by security.
I have a lot of thoughts during the short walk.
My father is dead.
Those four words do a number on me.
I don’t know why, but I reject them. I reject them from this woman I cannot even name. I’ve said them myself a million times, of course, I know, but right now, I reject them. And why would he give this woman a journal to save for me? Why not give it to my mother or Gio? This entire premise is not logical to me. The woman’s voice plays in my mind, teasing me with a memory just out of reach. We step outside, and the snow is a sheet of white beneath our feet, a light dusting, but it’s as if it’s a cloak hiding our proper path. That call felt like a cloak as well, a way to hide the truth.
I’m ushered into the rear of the Walker-driven SUV and Kace is right there with me, facing me, as the door is shut behind him. “Did you get a text message?”
I jolt all over with this reminder and reach for my phone, only to realize there’s nowhere to reach. It’s in my hand and I’m officially rattled. I glance down and inspect my messages, and find nothing. “Not yet,” I say, “but I wonder if there’s even a journal at all.”
Adrian slides into the driver’s seat with Adam in the passenger side. “Blake wants the recording you did of the call right now. Can I have your phone?”
I hand it over to him. “I need to see him.”
“He’s meeting you at your apartment.”
My apartment. He means my new home with Kace. The home I want to love and enjoy, but even outside all of this, Alexander lives there. My attention shifts to Kace. “Do we have a plan about Alexander?”
“Alexander isn’t important right now.”
“He is,” I insist. “He very much is. As that caller said, we are hunted, Kace. We don’t need Alexander in the mix. And we do need him out of the building. Or we need to move.”
He cups my face and tilts my gaze to his. “Let me handle Alexander. I promise you, I have him under control. I have a plan. Consider him a non-issue.”
“You know I can’t do that.” I pull away from him to make my point. “He’s a problem.”
“He’s handled, Aria.”
“How?”
“We really have to do this now?”
“Yes, we really have to do this now.”
“Crystal is selling him the wine and assuring him he would have been given a chance to bid.”
“And then?”
He leans in closer and lowers his voice. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding the topic of that call, but you are.”
I blink with the words. “I’m not.”
“You are.”
My lips press together, forming a tight reply. “I’m simply clearing the path for the call.”
“Then it’s cleared,” he assures me. “Who was your caller?”
“I don’t know. Her voice is familiar, but I can’t seem to place it. My father would not have given a stranger a journal to keep for me until I’m eighteen. My mother would have had it and she didn’t. And what of Gio? She acted like he didn’t even exist.”
“I noticed that. It was odd.”
“I need to talk to Gio.” My gaze shifts to the front of the truck. “Where is Gio now?”
Adam rotates to face us again and offers me my phone. “Call him. We need you locked down until we fully assess that call.”
“Are you sure he’s safe?”
“We have eyes on him,” Adam says, “and we’ll intervene if he needs us.”
I accept his answer because the truth is, I’m not sure what I think about Gio right now. I just need to hear his voice. I dial his phone and of course, it goes straight to voicemail. Why wouldn’t it? At the beep, I say, “What is wrong with you, Gio? You don’t take my calls but you show up out of nowhere and disappear again. And you proved nothing with that note, nothing. They knew when you left. All you achieved was this, me needing you and you not being here. Again. I got a call. Someone telling me they had Dad’s journal. A woman.” I hang up and sink back into the seat and Kace does the same, his eyes meeting mine, his fingers touching my jaw. “We’ll figure it out,” he says.
“I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“I know,” he says, and that’s all he says. He doesn’t promise me this is about to be over. That’s something I’m coming to respect about Kace. He doesn’t make promises he isn’t sure he can keep. He doesn’t throw words at a problem. He doesn’t just disappear. Gio is another story and I tilt my face upward, eyes shutting as Adrian’s warning comes back to me. “It was him or me. And we were close, Aria, but money and power changed him. It happened and I never saw it coming.”
And just like then, my hand goes to my throat. I still don’t know what to say with that warning, but the answer isn’t killing Gio. It will not come down to me or him. I won’t let that happen.
My phone buzzes with a text message and I sit up, quickly checking for the text the woman had promised. And sure enough, there are pages of what looks like a handwritten journal, but they’re too small to read. “I can’t read the attachments.” I shove my phone at Kace, showing him the screen. “I can’t read them.” My voice is high pitch, vibrating. “I might well be looking at my father’s writing and I can’t read it. And I can’t text this crazy number back. I tried last time.”
“Relax, baby,” Kace says, his hand at my neck. “Blake can work miracles.” He forwards the text to Blake and hands me back my phone. “I’m calling Blake now.”
I intend to listen to the call but those words, “Blake can work miracles” spiral through me and I’m transported to the past.
I’m standing in my father’s studio practicing the violin, wearing a pink dress my mother got me for my eleventh birthday. I’m playing the song my father has been teaching me, working on his most recent lesson when I have to sneeze. I freeze and look at the light the way my mom told me. I don’t know how it happens but I fall forward. Yelping, I tumble, and my arm hits the ground hard. I gasp and sit up, only to forget my arm. The very special bow my father made me for my birthday is broken in half. The bow he said would make me play like a daisy. I burst into tears, and scramble for it, trying to piece it together, but fail. Scrambling again, this time to my feet, I grab it and rush out of the studio to run smack into Angelena, my mother’s assistant. I burst in
to tears. “I broke the bow!” I hold it up. “I broke the bow, Angelena.”
She kneels, a pretty woman with dark hair and eyes, and a gentle voice. “Relax, Aria. Your father can work miracles. He’ll fix it up in no time.”
“Aria, baby, we’re here. We’re home.”
I blink back to the present as Adrian opens my door, and the meaning of that memory comes to me, but here and now isn’t the time to tell Kace. A claustrophobic sensation overtakes me and I need out of this vehicle. I’m about to climb out of my own skin when I step out into the snowfall and hear, “Aria.”
At the sound of Gio’s voice, I look right. And when I see him standing there, looking like Mr. Tall Dark and Good Looking, Mr. Untouchable, Mr. Cool, Mr. I don’t even know who anymore, I lose it. I don’t know what happens. My control that I value so much snaps. I step around Adrian and I launch myself at Gio.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I have clearly lost my mind because I don’t care who is watching as I charge forward. In a few long strides, I’m in front of Gio, shoving him. “You asshole! What the hell are you thinking? Angelena’s missing? Liar. She called me. Your girlfriend’s mother called me.” I slap him and he curses, catching my wrists.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Aria?” he demands. “Angelena called you?”
Cold heavy snow melts in my hair, but I don’t feel the wet cold. I’m seething, literally seething. “You lied to me,” I accuse. “You said she was missing, and then she proceeded to repeat everything you said to me about me, Kace, and the formula. Funny how she didn’t even mention you. You’re not a target and we are.” I jerk against his grip.