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His orders work when we’re naked. They do not sit well now. “No. I need to go to the bathroom.”

His jaw clenches, but he releases me. I hurry through the cozy restaurant with ceramic ceilings and wooden tables. I’m just entering the hallway to the bathrooms when a man bumps right into me. He catches my shoulders

and stares down at me, an evil smile curving on his lips. “Mi scusi,” he says, which is “excuse me” in Italian.

He’s still touching me and I step back as if burned. He laughs and walks away.

Freaked out, I turn and this time run right into Kace. I melt into him, my hands on his chest, chin lowering. Kace captures my face. “What’s wrong?”

“A man ran into me. He just touched me too long and smirked and I really want to go back to the castle.”

Kace’s phone rings and he snakes it from his pocket. “Kayden,” he says answering but he doesn’t speak. He listens and then says, “Thanks, Kayden,” before disconnecting.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Kayden has eyes on us. He doesn’t know who the man was, but he has men following him. We’re fine.”

“Can we just go back to the castle?”

“We can.” But instead, he pulls me further into the hallway and cups my face again. “I need to say something to you first. I will never lie to you.”

“You’re hiding something, Kace.” My voice is low, raspy. “I know you.”

He inhales, gaze lifting, turbulence rolling off of him before he meets my stare. “Alexander is missing.”

I blink. “Missing?”

“Yes.” His lashes lower and then lift. “Blake couldn’t prove he killed Maggie, but he had enough to believe he did. I played my father’s game. I handled it and made sure the dirt wasn’t on my hands.”

“What does that mean?”

“I sent the information anonymously to Maggie’s brother, who is powerful and vicious. I assume Alexander now knows he knows and he’s running from the embarrassment that will follow. He’d be shamed and ousted from his financial lifeline, his career.”

“What do you think his brother will do?”

“Accuse him publicly. Ruin him financially. And Aria, I don’t regret that.” His hands go to the wall, no longer touching me, but his eyes hold mine, letting me see the truth there. “I don’t feel remorse. There is that side to me, that part of me that is my father and I can’t erase it. But I will only use it when I have no choice. He wasn’t going to stop coming at you.”

“Were you going to tell me?”

He answers without hesitation. “Yes. After the announcement. After I knew you were safe and didn’t have to worry about men who bump into you being a threat, not to the extreme you do now. And I wasn’t going to let you go home to another threat in Alexander.”

I study him, shadows in his eyes, doubt etched in those shadows. I press my hands to his waist and lean into him. “You hate yourself because you think you’re like him. You are not. And I love you even if you can’t love yourself. I love you, Kace August.”

He stares down at me for long intense moments, and then he’s kissing me, and this is a kiss that is so many things: passion, desperation, torment, and love. So much love. “Let’s get out of here,” he says.

“Yes,” I say. “Please.”

This earns me a smile. “Always with the manners. I’m going to make you use those manners tonight.”

And he does. When we get back to the castle, he bypasses everyone who tries to stop us, and when we’re alone, he kisses me just like he did in that restaurant hallway. And then he makes love to me, but not without making me say “please, Kace,” and in the aftermath, I have a realization. “Please, Kace” doesn’t intimidate me anymore. I am free with this man. I am me with this man, and until I met him, I didn’t know who that was. Now, if I can just get him to feel that free with me.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The next morning, Kayden assures me that the man in the restaurant was just a creep of the average variety and as I dive into another day of training, the creep fades from my mind. For the next two days, we live a similar schedule of training and practice, all without any news on Gio or the Blue Owls.

Wednesday morning, one day before the meeting, after a good hour looking around the store, which is remarkable compared to my old store in New York City. There is also lots of chatting with Ella and Marabella, but not too much. I’m ready to be back with my man. “I’m going to head upstairs,” I announce. I start to leave but find myself hesitating, my focus on Ella. “Any buzz on Gio, or anything, for that matter?”

“There’s nothing,” she says, walking me toward the castle door. “Right now, it’s as if Donelle has no nefarious connections, when we know he has a past with your father.”

“I’m confused. I thought we were certain the Blue Owls would show?”

She punches the code in to lift the door between the store and castle. “Honestly, we’d rather deal with them after your big reveal. But if the Donelle visit is uneventful, I’d be shocked. Either way, this ends for you soon. Maybe not immediately. The press will buzz about you after the reveal but by Christmas, I’d say you’ll be old news.”

It’s a wonderful sentiment, but one that doesn’t offset the absence of answers. Eager to discuss my concerns with Kace, I head to our tower and to the stairs that lead to the dance studio where Kace should be practicing, but I hear nothing. Hurrying up the steps, I’ve just passed an office on the left when I hear Kace say, “Holy fuck. When? No. Right. No. I don’t give a damn about the music right now.” He’s silent a moment, and then longer. I decide the call has ended and hurry up the stairs.

I enter the dance studio where he practices to find his violin on a stand nearby, while he faces the wall, his hands pressed to the hard surface. “Kace,” I say softly.

His head lowers just a little further to his chest, as if my voice punches him in the chest, and then he turns. “Hey, baby.”

There are white lines around his mouth, his jaw so tight it looks like it might pop. My heart squeezes with fear and I close the space between us, stopping in front of him. “What happened?”

He stares down at me, his eyes heavy-lidded, seconds ticking by before his hands come down on my arms and turn me to the wall. “I know nothing about Gio. And yes, I’m upset about something, but don’t ask me today. Not before the meeting tomorrow. Not until after. Then I’ll tell you. I need you to understand and do this for me.”

The torment in him, the urgency, cuts me and I am bleeding because he is bleeding. I want to ask for more. I need to know what is going on, but this man has been unselfish in every way. I cannot deny him one of his few requests. “After,” I say.

Relief bleeds into his eyes. “After,” he promises and then he pushes off the wall and walks to his violin and picks it up. He starts to play and I slide down the wall and sit, knees to my chest, to listen to the wicked notes of his tormented music. Music that is dark, my damaged man bleeding through the notes. And there is a story in those notes, and it’s not a fairy tale. Whatever troubles him is not small, nor will it be gentle for him to speak or hold onto in silence. But neither is my love for him small. Nor his for me. And that’s what I hold onto in the way I plan to hold onto him.

***

That night, the anticipation for the next day’s meeting is thick in the air, and it’s hard not to allow nerves to get the best of me. Kace is reserved, far from himself, and since we aren’t talking about why, not just yet, the edge of his mood is best dealt with just me and him, alone. We eat in our room, treated to Marabella’s lasagna, and do so on the rug in front of the fireplace, and with wine in our glasses, we talk about all the new people in our lives: Savage, Adrian, Ella, Kayden. We talk about holidays of the past and the future. We laugh and smile and forget everything but us. We head to bed early, and I snuggle in beside him, my head on his chest, the lights off, the fire glowing. It’s a perfect, cozy night, but as I doze, there is something niggling at my mind and I drift into a memory.

“Wake up, Aria. Wake up.”

My lashes flutter and I find my mother leaning over my bed. “We need to go. Get up.”

I sit up to find her throwing things in a suitcase. “What time is it?”

“Time to go. Your father’s gone. He?

??s gone.”

Gio appears in the doorway. “Mom, what is this? What’s happening?”

“Your father’s gone.” Her hand goes to her head. “They’ll come for us. He made mistakes. We will not make the same mistakes.”

“Who, Mom?” I ask, dropping my legs to the side of the bed. “Who? You’re scaring me. Where’s Dad?”

“Get up!” she yells. “Get up now.”

Fear tears through me and Gio rushes over to me and pulls me off the bed. “Put on your clothes, now.”

“Now!” Mom screams before she rushes out of the room.

“Gio,” I sob. “What is happening?”

He kneels in front of me. “Dad’s gone. I don’t know what happened, but Mom says he’s gone for good.”

“Dad?” I sob harder. “I want Dad.”

Gio shakes me. “Don’t cry now. Whoever took him will come for us. That’s what Mom said. We have to protect each other. I will protect you always, Aria. Okay? I promise.”

“I’ll protect you, too.”

“Yes,” Mom says from the door. “We have to protect each other. That’s what Dad would want. Now come with me.”

Gio drags me from the room, and I turn to grab my daisy doll Dad gave me, the one holding daisies in her hand, but I can’t reach her. She’s lost. I’ll never see her again and it only makes me sob again. We load up in the car and then we’re in the dark, on the road, and Mom is crying. She’s crying so hard. “I can’t believe he’s gone,” she whispers. “I can’t believe I let him deal with this alone.”

I gasp and sit up to find daylight breaking in the window and Kace missing. “Kace!” I call out. “Kace.”

He rushes around the corner with shaving cream on his face and a towel around his waist. “What is it? What’s wrong, baby?”

I grab his arm. “I thought you left.”

“No. Of course not.”

I twist around to face him. “I have to go with you.”

“We talked about this.”

“I remembered something. The night we left Rome, my mom was crying. I heard her say that she couldn’t believe she let Dad deal with this, whatever this was, alone. I need to do this with you. We protect those we love.”

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