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“Why would Lorenzo care about the book?”
“It wasn’t about the book for Lorenzo. He blames my adoptive father for his niece’s death.”
Bastian was adopted by Arlo Salvatore when he was a kid, not long after his parents died in a tragic plane crash. He’d been a Salvatore for the past fifteen years and, like me, had to change his name. So did Damian. None of us could be the people we once were. Our lives changed dramatically after our parents’ deaths.
I shifted my weight on the chair as Damian entered the kitchen. He dressed in all black, a suit that hugged his lean muscles like body armor. If possible, I tried not to stare. Despite his outer beauty, something was off with him.
Damian hadn’t spoken much since we arrived, only at night when he thought I was sleeping. I’d seen and heard some shocking things when the apartment was silent. They had a very unusual relationship that went beyond the bond of brotherhood.
“What do you think Fitzy wants from the book?”
Bastian shrugged. “Could be anything. But my guess is Wellington has something on him. Drake overheard him talking about the flight that killed my parents at your engagement party.”
Bastian pulled out a chair from the table, gesturing for Damian to sit. He gave off some weird vibes, like he couldn’t stand to be around people. But when Bastian told him to do something, he did it, no questions asked.
“We’re going to confront Fitzy,” Bastian said with his gaze on Damian. “But it will have to wait until after today’s meeting. The old man will get suspicious if I discuss a different topic.”
Our grandfather hated being ambushed, and if he had an agenda, Bastian’s questions would only be met with hostility.
“What will you do if he confesses to kidnapping Alex?”
“Kill the old bastard,” Damian said with a creepy grin.
Bastian’s cell phone dinged. “Time to go.” He rose from the chair and peeked out the blinds, staring at the parking lot. “Your ride is here.”
Bastian lifted a gun from the table and escorted me downstairs with Damian in tow, carrying my bags. Outside, a black limo was parked in front of the building. The driver took my bags from Damian and opened the back door for me.
“I’ll see you soon.” Bastian hugged me. “Try to stay strong when you see the old bastard. Don’t let him get under your skin. Remember, we have all the power. The key gives us that.”
Last week, Bastian told me all about the key and why it was so important to have it in our possession. I asked him to keep it safe for me until the time was right. He said that time would be soon but didn’t fill me in on his plan. So I had to wait until he revealed all the missing pieces.
I kissed his cheek. “Thank you for everything. Even though we were forced together under shitty circumstances, I had fun getting to know you this week.”
He smiled. “Me too, Grace.”
I got into the limo and sat on the bench across from Mark. He acknowledged me with a nod, then his eyes dropped to the newspaper.
Cole scooted closer to me, dressed in a suit and smelling like body wash and cologne. “How are you holding up?”
“I should be asking you that.” I rested my forehead against his and sighed. “I wish I could have been with you at the funeral.”
He breathed through his nose, the warmth of his breath brushing my skin. “I’m just glad I have you back. That’s all that matters right now.”
ChapterForty-Nine
GRACE
On our way to Sagaponack, silence hung in the air. Cole sat beside me in the limousine, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his cell phone as he played a game.
The three-hour drive from Devil’s Creek to The Hamptons worsened my nerves, anxiety tearing through my chest. I needed to calm myself down before I saw my grandfather.
We drove down a long road, which overlooked the water, eventually stopping before a tall wrought-iron gate withAat the center.
Adams.
The driver hit a button on the call box in front of the gate. A deep male voice blared through the speaker. He exchanged words with the driver, and then the gate moved inward, allowing us passage onto the property.
We traveled down the driveway lit by lampposts, casting a golden glow on the flagstones. I recalled the first time I came here. How naive to think that my grandfather would love me and treat me like his heir. Instead, I endured years of his mental and emotional abuse.
