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“There’s nothing left to say between us. I thought I made that clear when I left.”
“Right,” I glare at the memory. “Thanks for that, by the way. There’s nothing a girl loves more than waking up alone with a note on the pillow. Really makes her feel special. Like a high-class whore.”
Regret flashes on Sebastian’s face, but it’s soon replaced with steely determination.
“I gave you a chance to be happy, to return to your real life. You’ll be safe there.”
“So, that’s why you left,” I give out a bitter laugh. “All in some misguided attempt to protect me.”
“Misguided?” he snaps. “Have you forgotten the plane crash? The explosion?”
“That’s why I came to find you.” I say urgently, taking his arm. “I need to tell you something. I’ve figured it all out—”
But before I can reveal what I’ve found about Richard and the crash, Sebastian wrenches away and walks right out of the restaurant.
Dammit.
I bolt up and start after him, nearly bumping into a waitress that was heading to our table in my haste. I mumble an apology and rush out the door just in time to see Sebastian disappear into the crowds.
“Seb—” I start to call after him before realizing, I can’t. nobody can know who we are, not when the world still thinks we’re dead.Fuck. I yank a hat from my purse and pull it low over my eyes as I weave through the throngs of tourists out for a late-night stroll, eyes peeled for his familiar frame.
There.
I see Sebastian turn off the main path, crossing beneath one of the narrow bridges that stretch over the canal. I speed up, drawing level in the shadows beside the water.
“Wait!” I demand, pulling him around to face me. “You have to listen to me!”
“And you need to accept that it’s over!”
Sebastian’s words cut me, and so does the cold look in his eyes, but this isn’t about my heart. It matters more than how I feel.
“You don’t understand,” I tell him stubbornly, holding onto him. “This isn’t about us. It’s you. You didn’t kill your father!”
Sebastian reels back. “What are you talking about” he demands, looking furious.
“It wasn’t you,” I insist again. “It’s not your fault. It was Richard!”
My voice rings out, echoing off the water. Luckily, we’re alone in the shadows, but as Sebastian stares at me, slack-jawed, a gondola glides closer, packed with a laughing group of tourists.
He suddenly snaps back and grabs my arm. “We have to go,” he says, dragging me on, back to the main street, and down another alleyway until we arrive at a quaint building tucked beside the canal. Sebastian unlocks the door, and practically shoves me inside, looking around behind us before slamming it shut.
I follow him up to the apartment on the second floor, where he paces, trying to process what I’ve just said.
“Talk,” he orders, still every inch the dominating presence. “It was Richard? What the hell do you mean?”
“I talked to the forensics guy,” I explain, my heart in my throat. “He’s the one who examined the car, after the accident. He says that the brakes had been cut. It wasn’t an accident, Sebastian. It wouldn’t have mattered who was driving, there was no way to control the car.”
Sebastian stares at me, a thousand emotions conflicting in his gaze.
“No…” he whispers, sagging back.
“Yes.”
I explain it all to him, everything I learned from my visit with Brian, and my own conclusions about Richard and the explosion on the jet. “It wasn’t meant for you, Sebastian,” I insist, pacing in the small, luxurious room. “Richard was trying to kill me, to tie up any loose ends. He knew I’d been digging around in the past, and he couldn’t risk me uncovering anything more about what happened.”
Sebastian takes a deep breath, and I can see his mind ticking over, as brilliant as always. “So why did you?” he asks, finally meeting my gaze.
“What?” I pause, confused.
