His hand comes down on my face. “Baby, I was alone before I met you, so damn alone. I am not alone now. I am not doing this alone. But you are right. We protect those we love. And I love you. I’m going in alone.”
“Kace, please.”
“I love you, Aria. I will be fine. I’ve got this. And I’ve got you. Now, I’m going to kiss you and get shaving cream all over you.”
“No, I—”
He kisses me and shaving cream smears all over me. The next thing I know he’s in bed with me and we have shaving cream all over us. I don’t fight the passion that follows. In fact, I kiss him and hold him more fiercely than ever. I’m scared of losing him. That’s the message in every kiss and touch I share with him this morning.
When it’s over, and we’re laying on the bed side by side, I whisper, “I don’t want to have the same regrets as my mother.”
“You won’t, baby. You’re doing something. You’re creating freedom for you, me, and your brother.” He rolls out of the bed and takes me with him. “Now, let’s go own it.”
***
Kace dresses like his rock star self for the meeting in jeans, a T-shirt and a tan leather jacket. I settle on an emerald green sweater dress with knee-high boots because, in some part of my mind, I’m still going to convince Kace I should go to meet Donelle with him. I’m not, of course, but I’m prepared if he changes his mind.
We meet Kayden, Ella, Adrian, and Savage in a giant room with a round table, a hawk in the center. The War Room, Kayden calls it. Sasha is there as well, as are several other men working for Kayden. “Donelle lives in a mansion in the Parioli district, a wealthy area of Rome,” Kayden informs us. “We’ve already got men watching the place and have for days.” He eyes Kace. “We actually have men on the property so we’re close if you need us.”
“There’s no sign of the Blue Owls?” Kace asks.
“None,” Kayden replies, “but we’re at the core of my operation. If word got back to the Blue Owls that you’re with me, they’ll back off. We may have a quiet day.”
“Then why set a meeting with us inside our core area at all?” I ask.
“The answer should be in the meeting,” Ella replies, her attention back on Kace. “Kace, you’re going in alone, but we’re going to wire you both. We want Ella to be able to hear the conversation in case there’s something that stands out to her. If there’s a red flag, we’ll come in.”
“You should go in armed,” Kayden adds.
I press my hands to my face and Kace’s hand comes down on my back. “I don’t like this,” I say, turning to him.
“I know how to handle myself and no one wants me dead,” he reminds me. “I have half the formula in my head, remember?”
“About that,” I say, “we need to be sure and say that at the museum and in the press release. We’ve forgotten that Sofia has my father’s journal. It told her that you and I had part of the formula puzzle.”
“We’ll talk that out tonight,” he promises. “Right now, let’s get this over with.”
***
Thirty minutes later, I’m in a luxurious house that is apparently owned by one of Kayden’s many contacts, just a block from Donelle Bianchini’s sprawling mansion. There are actually video screens set-up on the kitchen table that show various angles of Donelle’s property. For now, it’s just me and Ella, while the rest of the team takes field positions. “How did you even manage to pull this off?” I ask, settling into a chair at the table next to Ella, “and so quickly?”
“We knew about Donelle from Blake,” Ella states. “We had already set-up surveillance before you arrived.”
“And he had no Blue Owl visitors?” I ask.
“None,” Ella confirms. “I still feel like something is going to happen today, but Kayden doesn’t.”
“I do,” I say. “I believe something is going to happen.”
Kace arrives at Donelle’s property in what is supposed to be a hired black sedan, which Adrian is driving, and after stopping briefly at the gates, they are allowed to enter. Once the vehicle halts, Kace exits and heads to the door. He rings the bell. Ella pulls a black box between us. “This is the audio that’s in your ear. It will be easier to hear this way.” She punches the button.
My heart is now racing a million miles an hour. The door opens and Kace is greeted by a doorman. “Mr. Bianchini will be so pleased to see you, Mr. August,” the man says.
Kace enters the house and the doorman, who is in a suit, leads him inside, where we don’t have a visual. Kace speaks, but I can’t make it out. I turn to Ella. “Why can’t we understand him?”
“His audio is malfunctioning. It can happen.”
I stand up. “Then how are we supposed to know what’s going on?”
She tugs me back down. “Shhh. Give it a minute and see if it comes back online.”
Someone else speaks, and it’s just as jumbled. I stand up and walk behind my chair, holding onto it. More jumbled speech follows. “I have to go in. Then we can hear with my audio.”
She stands and grabs her phone. “Give me a minute.” Her phone rings in her hand and she answers, listening before she says, “We’ll be right there.” She hangs up. “You’re going in.”
I’m not sure what I feel in that moment. Fear. I feel fear and not for me: for Kace and with good reason. Kayden doesn’t want me to go into the meeting against Kace’s wishes for no reason. He’s worried, too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Ella checks my audio, doing a soundcheck, and quickly. I don’t even bother with my coat. I want to get to Kayden now. Rushing to the door, Ella and I exit the house to find another black sedan in the driveway.
“Backseat,” she orders and I do as I’m told, finding Savage in the driver’s seat upon slipping inside. Ella joins me and shuts the door.
“I’ll hit the floorboard when we get to the gate,” she says. “As far as anyone knows, Savage is just your driver.”
Savage backs us up, and glances at me in his rearview mirror. “He’s fine,” Savage assures me. “We’re just a bunch of paranoid bastards.”
“Apparently I am, too,” I say, thankful when we pull to the gate and Ella hits the floor.
Savage rolls down his window and punches the call button. “I have Ms. Aria Alard here for Donelle Bianchini.”
The gate immediately opens and my heart is back to a thundering roar in my ears. We halt at the door. “If we lose audio,” Savage says, “I’m coming in to deliver a message.”
“Good,” I say. “Bring those drugs that saved my life, too, will you?”
“Always,” he promises, and I exit the backseat, and shut the door quickly before Ella is spotted.
Rushing past a sprawling outdoor area, and up a set of stone steps, I reach the porch and the door, to ring the bell. Seconds pass and more seconds and then the door opens. To my shock, Kace is standing there.
His fingers snag mine and he walks me inside the house, shutting the door behind us. “I bet you didn’t expect me to tell you to come join me, now did you?”
I blink. “What? You did? We lost your audio. I couldn’t hear you. We couldn’t hear you.”
“And you were freaking out and insisted on coming in,” he assumes.
“Yes, actually. What is going on?”
“Not what we expected. He’s a friend of your fathers, a real friend, not a dangerous friend.”
“How do you know?”
“The same way you’ll know. Come.” He guides me to the left, under a stone archway, and into a library lined with books, so many books, rows and rows of books. Next to the fireplace, in front of a sitting area, is an old man in a wheelchair, a blanket around his shoulders. Donelle, I assume. There’s also a stoic man in an expensive suite standing next to him, hands folded in front of him. Kace leads me forward and we walk around the couch and a large chair.
The old man tears up. “You look like your father. Oh, Aria. It’s really you, my dear
. I thought I was going to die without finding you.”
“I don’t understand,” I glance at Kace. “What is this?”
“He’s been looking for you since you disappeared,” Kace explains.
“Your father,” Donelle explains, “was a close friend. He entrusted me with three messages, one for you, one for Gio, and one for Kace.” His wobbly finger lifts at the man in the suit.
The man introduces himself. “I’m Angelo Russo, Mr. Bianchini’s attorney.” He reaches in his pocket and removes three envelopes. “It’s my honor, Ms. Stradivari, to present you with a message from your father.”
Adrenaline and emotions storm my entire body. With a trembling hand, I reach for the envelope and glance at my name written in my father’s script. I look at Kace and he holds one up as well. “I haven’t opened it.”
“Do that alone, when you can fully digest it,” Donelle says. “We have one for Gio as well. Can you give it to him?”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, of course.”
The attorney hands it to me and I accept it.
“There’s a few more things to attend to,” Donelle sates. “You have an inheritance my dear. I was named as executor. I’ve invested your money well, I believe. It’s a substantial amount of money.”
Mr. Russo speak up. “I have the paperwork, but you don’t need to come to my office. I want to keep you safe, after all. We can do everything by phone.” He offers me a card. “I wrote the figure on the back. There’s the same amount is escrow for your brother.”
I turn the card over and gasp. “Oh my God.” I show it to Kace.
His lips turn up, eyes lighting. “Now you can stop worrying about how much money I spend.”
He’s right. I can, but right now. I’m reeling. It’s not real, and even if it is it’s because my father is gone. “I’m speechless,” I confess. “I’m—well my head is spinning right now.”
“Of course it is, dear,” Donelle says. “Mine is a bit as well. I’d given up on finding you before I die. I’d decided that I urgently needed to meet Kace and decide if he could take my role as your executor, your father was quite taken by him, but I didn’t dare trust him until I met him. And then you called and you were with him.”
“Even then,” Mr. Russo states, “we didn’t know it was absolutely you. We needed an in-person meeting to ensure this felt right. Giving Mr. August a letter and asking him, and entrusting him, to take over as your executor are two different things. Mr. Bianchini has taken great pride to being the protector of your father’s messages and your money. We do apologize for being so cryptic about our delivery of all of this.”
My head is spinning all over again. “Thank you, Donelle. I don’t know how to say thank you.”
He begins to cough and cough some more before he says, “I know you’ve been running, Aria. I hope there is something in your father’s words that allows you to stop running. Oh and one more thing. A big thing.” He motions to Mr. Russo.
Mr. Russo walks to the table against a wall just to his right and pulls a cover off a violin case. “The Fetzer.”
“It’s yours, Kace,” Donelle states. “Aria’s father told me that no one else was worthy of playing it. But he wanted to know that you took what was given to you and handled it with honor. He left that decision in my hands. In fact, I was only to give you your letter, if I found that honor in you. Otherwise I was to give an alternate letter to Aria. I’d say Aria’s obvious love for you is a testament to that honor.”
Kace inhales and lower his chin to his chest, before he bows slightly. “Thank you. I will try to live up to that praise.”
“Play for me,” he pleads. “I have always wanted to hear you play that Fetzer. I knew the day I did I’d be ready to meet my maker.” He glances at me. “And your father again.”
Tears well in my eyes, and Kace walks to the violin. He lifts it and begins to play “Toccata,” just as he had for my father, just as Donelle had requested on the phone. I go down on my knees beside Donelle and hold his hand, tears streaming own my cheeks. It’s as if I’m with my father, at least, in spirit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
It’s an hour later when Kace and I exit Donelle’s home with our unread notes in hand. “I want to go to our room and read them alone,” I say when we climb into the vehicle with Adrian.
Kace’s arm slides around me. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kayden and Ella meet us in the main foyer of the castle. Ella squeezes my arm. “We’re here when you’re ready for us.”
I hug her and Kayden, too, and then Kace and I head upstairs to our room. Once we’re there, we sit down on the oversized chair by the fire and Kace pours me a glass of wine. I eagerly drink from the glass. “Why am I so nervous?”
“Because it’s the last conversation you will ever have with your father.”
“Do you think he left us the formula?”
“No. I don’t. We know it’s in pieces. We know he wanted you to have his journal.”
“But why the journal and the notes? Maybe the notes were in case the journal didn’t make it to me?”
“You won’t know if you don’t open it,” he says.
“Can you go first?” He opens his envelope and begins to read, and I watch the emotions roll over his face before he hands it to me, his eyes glossed over. “He was the father I wished I had. Read it.” He stands and walks to the fireplace, resting a palm on the mantel, and staring down at the flames, affected.
Steeling myself for the emotions sure to follow, I unfold it and read:
Kace,
The one true daisy in the wind. No one has ever played with your skill and passion, with your understanding of the Stradivarius. Those weeks with you, enjoying your talent, were magical. In your eyes, I saw your character and your pain. Your parents never understood the treasure you are and for that, I hurt for you. But know this, I did. And for this reason, I’ve shared something of me, and what I cherish with you, in our song. I hope one day you understand just how special writing it with you was to me.
I also ask of you a favor. Please look out for my daughter. Check on her. She is a kindred soul, a lover of the Stradivarius, and she will need someone who knows how important her name is to history. She is faced with great challenges, and with great challenges, one needs great friends. I believe we were fast and great friends.
Play hard, and passionately, my boy. The beauty within you is a gift.
Your friend,
—Alessandro
Tears are streaming down my face and I down my wine. “He loved you.”
Kace turns to face me. “He was a special man.” He sits down next to me again. “Are you ready?”
“Yes and no, but I need to do this.” I inhale and open the envelope.
My dear daughter,
If you are reading, this I have not had the pleasure of watching you grow into the woman I always knew you would be. You are my light in a dark, stormy sea, always there to make me remember to love and live. I wonder if you will grow up with a violin in your hand or will you simply rule the world the way you did mine. You always had your nose in everything and an opinion, too. I see a leader in you. I see dreams in your eyes, too, and a love for music. Oh, how I wish I would have seen how that came together, what you did with those things.
Your brother didn’t share your love for music, but he’s brave and adventurous and I envy him. I believe you might as well. Don’t forget to follow his lead and explore the world. Because he will. And he should. He will see my trust in you and in another as me not trusting him. That other person is Kace August. As for my trust in Gio, I do trust him. I trust in the soul of that boy and his soul tells me that he cannot be held down by rules and demands. I give to each of you what you desire and for him, that is freedom. For you, I install the greatest of responsibility. I don’t know if my journal will ever make it to you, and truth be told, in it are the ramblings of my creative mind. I’ll ma
ke this simple: the formula is written nowhere. It’s in my mind as it was my in father’s. Your mother feared you and Gio ever having the formula, but it is our namesake, our responsibility to protect it.
As I write this, you are too young to memorize the formula and there are greedy people who want it and who would take what is not theirs to take. I’ve given you a piece of the puzzle and Kace the other piece. Our secret is protected simply by the fact that Kace doesn’t know what he holds. If you decide to go to him and decode the messages I’ve left you both, I have confidence that you’ll figure out the puzzle. I know you’ll keep our legacy safe. But before you move forward, remember this: deny the formula exists and protect its existence.
I love you, Aria. My angel. My light.
—Dad
I lower the letter, my face streaked with tears, and I sob. “Read it,” I whisper, handing it to Kace.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He accepts the letter and reads it while I try to slow my tears. When he’s done, he pulls me into his arms and holds me, just holds me. And it’s exactly what I need from him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The next morning, we talk to Blake for an hour, telling him everything about well, everything. Right before we hang up, he says, “By the way, Nancy is handled. She cried and apologized. She said that Alexander just wanted her to make sure he was fed information about you two. Where you were going and what you were doing.”
I want to ask about Alexander, but I can practically taste Kace’s discomfort in the air. He expects my question and he silently resists it. We clearly need to have that talk he promised me, but after all that happened yesterday, I resist going down a dark path today. I think I’ll wait until after my big name reveal. And so I say, “Thank you, Blake. For everything.”
We end the call and Kace glances at his messages and then me. “Kayden and Ella want us to join them for breakfast.”
And just that easily, any difficult talk is avoided. I can almost taste our mutual relief in the air.
A Sinful Encore Page 21