A few minutes later, we’re at the kitchen table with Kayden and Ella enjoying delicious pancakes and coffee. “The violin is in our vault with the rest of your violins,” Kayden says, stabbing a bite of his pancake.
I slide the notes from my father across to him. “Can those go in there as well? One is for Gio, if he ever shows up.”
“We will,” Kayden says. “For as long as you like. We have priceless treasures in that vault. Things we never want to be found and always protected.”
“About that,” Ella says, “if you find the real formula, if you figure it out, it can be kept here. It will safe forever. We still need to move forward with the museum for the fake version, but the real deal, we can keep safe.”
“That would be amazing,” I say, glancing at Kace. “If we ever figure it out.”
“We will,” Kace promises, and in his certainty, I find hope.
Ella sips her coffee. “Then the letters didn’t tell you what you need to know?”
“They told us what we pretty much knew,” I say. “We already have the answers we need. We just don’t know how to get to them or use them or even see them right before our faces.”
Kace pours syrup on his pancakes. “We’re going to work on that today and every day until we figure it out.” He sets his plate aside and looks between Kayden and Ella. “Anything on the Blue Owls?”
“Or Gio?” I ask eagerly. “I keep hoping for a message from him that doesn’t come.”
“Not yet,” Kayden says. “A little longer. I’ll put the call out that I’m looking for him Sunday night, before the reveal.”
It’s not the answer I want, but I accept what I cannot control and focus on what I can. “We need to come up with the formula we’re allowing to be on display,” I say. “And we have to figure out what to do about the Blue Owls knowing Kace and I each have a piece.”
“Already done,” Kayden says. “We put together a list of ingredients researchers have used to try to find the formula. Then we added a chemical, Borax, and a certain type of salt used in the preservation process back in Antonio Stradivari’s lifetime, both of which have widely been speculated to be part of his wood treatment. Your clue was the salt, Aria. Your clue was the Borax, Kace. The gallery has what they need, except the violin. They’d like to collect it today to set-up the display.”
“I’m fine with that,” Kace says. “I assume there is paperwork. Have them send it over.”
Kayden lifts his fork. “I already have it.”
Kace smiles. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“I’m blown away by all you have done for us,” I say. “Thank you both.”
“It’s one of the good things about being the Hawk,” Kayden says. “Sometimes we get to make a real difference.”
The way Kace makes a difference with his charity work, and I know then that I want to make a difference, too. And I will. I will help others the way others have helped me. To some it might seem a passing vow made in an emotional moment, but for me it’s not. It’s my future.
***
After breakfast, Kace helps me handle the estate paperwork and soon, I’m officially no longer poor, in any definable way. I have money, friends, and Kace. Hours later, while we enjoy coffee at a nearby café, I say, “I want to help more with your charity. You make a difference, Kace. I want to, as well.”
His lashes lower and when they lift, there’s a storm there, he doesn’t try to hide. “I’ve told you. I am—”
I lean in, my lips a breath from his. “Everything to me,” I say, afraid of his fear. And he is afraid. He doesn’t want to tell me something and I don’t know why I don’t want to know.
“Whatever you were going to say,” I whisper, “don’t say it now. Tell me after the reveal.”
He doesn’t speak or move for a moment, but then he cups my head and kisses me. “After the reveal.”
***
The morning of the reveal, I dress in a black skirt and blouse with heels, while Kace does his rock star thing, in jeans, a T-shirt with the gallery logo on it that he had delivered, and a leather jacket. We head downstairs where Kayden and Ella wait on us, both in jeans and T-shirts, looking far more comfortable than I feel.
“A limo?” I ask, glancing at Kace because I know he did this.
“A Stradivari rides in style, baby.”
“He’s right,” Kayden agrees. “We’re making a statement today. And Aria,” he pauses for effect.
“Yes?” I say, accepting his prod.
“I’m going to give you a life-long gift today. Because we like you.”
“We do,” Ella agrees, smiling.
“And because you deserve a good life,” Kayden adds.
“I don’t understand,” I say, “but thank you.”
Kace kisses me. “Always polite.”
“Always,” I say, smiling through my nerves. Because that’s what he does for me. He brings me down a notch, grounds me, makes me smile.
“You’ll understand later,” Kayden promises. “And so you know, I put out the call for Gio last night.”
“And said what?” I ask.
“That we have business. I offered him safe passage to talk. He’ll come.”
His confidence is comforting. I just pray Gio is alive and well and can really meet that expectation, but for now, I have to think about the press event. Kace opens the rear door.
“Savage and Adrian are at the event checking things out. They’re meeting us there.”
I nod and slide inside the fancy car. Kace, Kayden, and Ella follow.
I’m all kinds of nervous energy by the time we arrive at the gallery twenty minutes later. With the press on all sides of us, we exit to flashing lights. Savage and Adrian, already present when we arrived, are immediately shadowing us. I do like it when our Terminators are present. I’m used to them now. I like them. They’re friends.
Once we clear the door, the staff greets us with excitement, and it’s a whirlwind of activity. The press event is in front of a display that holds the failed formula for the Stradivarius and the Stradivarius Kace has donated to the museum. Kace and I, together, answer questions and everything goes well. I tell the story of my father disappearing and of him leaving me instructions that were incomplete. Kace chimes in at all the right places.
“Do you think we’ll ever know the Stradivari’s secret formula?” a reporter asks.
“Sadly, no,” I say. “I’ve tried to find it. Desperately tried,” I add, “but no one in any lab can figure out what is missing to make the formula work. For me, today was about my father. This is to honor him. This is to honor all the protectors of the formula that came before him. I’m sad to have failed them all.”
Luna, a pleasant mid-forties high-ranking member of the gallery staff, then claps. “It’s time for the display reveal.” She pulls a cover off the display and everyone applauds.
To my surprise, Luna then calls Kayden to the front. “As many of you know, Kayden Wilkens has long been a donor. Today, he donated his services as well.”
Kayden speaks then. “This display now falls under my protection, as do Aria Stradivari and Kace August. And I just want to add that if we ever find out who took Aria’s father, I’ll be involved in seeking justice.”
When the event is over, Kayden and Ella join me and Kace. “When Kayden offers his protection,” Ella says, “if someone hurts you, then they bring the wrath of the entire world of Hawks down on them. That’s why a Lady Hawk is never a target.”
“You both have my protection,” Kayden adds. “For the rest of my life and yours. My gift to you is your freedom.”
I fling myself at Kayden and hug him, and then do the same to Ella. Kace and Kayden shake hands, but end up hugging as well. And a few minutes later when we climb back into the limo, I feel like a new person. I feel like a daisy in the wind, free to ride right into a new day.
The only thing holding me back from absolute happiness is Gio ghosting m
e, and Kace’s dark secret, whatever it might be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
That night, the whole group of us goes out to dinner. Me, Kace, Kayden, Ella, Savage, Adrian, and even Sasha. The food and wine flow freely and so does the friendship. As does the charge in the air between me and Kace. We are in the middle of a group of people and it feels at times as if it’s just me and him. The way we share intimate looks and touches. The way he kisses one, then another, of the tattoos on my arms. I’m tipsy enough that he has to walk me to the bathroom. Once I’m inside, I realize that I’ve started my period. I’m late, which I hadn’t even realized, but I’m not pregnant. Which I know. I did or I wouldn’t be tipsy right now, but it affects me. God, how it affects me. I can’t explain how much this punches me in the gut.
I open the door and Kace is leaning on the wall waiting on me, looking like the most delicious man on planet Earth. I rush to him and wrap my arms around him. “I’m not pregnant and I know it’s crazy, but I’m upset about it. I know we’re not married and I know we didn’t plan it, but—”
He cups my face and stares down at me. “You need to know who I am before you marry me.”
I blink, confused by his dark, rough reaction. “I know you.”
“No. You refuse to see who I am.” He takes my hand and leads me down the hallway. We step into a garden with heaters glowing to keep the guests warm.
Kace halts and turns me, my back to the railing, his hands caging me in. “I shouldn’t be doing this when you’re tipsy, but it’s eating me alive. The way we are—”
“Is good. Isn’t it?”
“Damn good, baby, but I’m not. I’m not your hero.”
“This again? You are my hero. I decide who is my hero. And I thought you were going to stop pushing me away?”
“Alexander is dead.” His voice is flat, hard.
I blink. “What?” My fist clenches at my chest. “Oh God. How?”
“Suicide.”
I swallow hard, sobering up the best I can, quickly, acid in my throat. “Suicide,” I repeat. “Kace?”
“I didn’t kill him or have him killed, but I might as well have. I know Maggie’s brother did this.”
“And you think you’re guilty because you gave him proof of his sister’s murder?” I don’t give him time to answer. “You did not do this.”
“I wanted him to suffer.”
“That’s not killing him.”
“You’re making excuses for me.”
I wrap my arms around him. “Stop it. I love you.”
His hand comes down on my head, his forehead against mine. “I don’t want you to wake up one day and—”
I pull back and I don’t let him finish that sentence. “I don’t want to wake up one day without you. I can’t. I need you. And this isn’t fair to tell me this tonight when I’m drunk. I can’t properly articulate anything.” I poke his chest. “We are a team—good, bad, and ugly. That’s who we are. And damn it, don’t let me think we’re forever and then keep pushing me away.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. Love is not fair weathered. I don’t love only a piece of you, Kace. I love all of you.”
He stares down at me, the air pulsing around us before his mouth comes down on mine and he’s kissing me, and thank God, this is no goodbye kiss. It’s love. It’s passion. It’s us, me and him, all the way.
“God, I love you, woman,” he murmurs when our lips part, his hand sliding over my hair and tilting my gaze to his. “And I’m not pushing you away. I want you. I want us. And we can get pregnant. We can make that decision. We can do anything we want.”
“Aria.”
I jolt with the sound of Gio’s voice and Kace releases me, stepping to my side. He stands a few feet away, looking healthy and well.
“Gio?” I ask, because I don’t know what to expect right now.
“Hey, sis.”
Kayden steps outside. “Hello, Gio. I’m—”
“The Hawk,” he supplies. “I know.” He rotates to face Kayden. “I can give you the Blue Owls. I know everything you need to know to take them down.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it was always my intent to destroy them.” He glances over at me. “And because I want to earn my sister’s trust back.” His attention shifts back to Kayden. “I wouldn’t mind a job, either.”
Kayden studies him for several beats and then glances at us. “Gio and I are going to take a walk.” He motions to Gio, and Gio looks at me.
“I saw what you did today. You’re brave. Braver than I ever gave you credit for. I’m proud of you.”
Tears prickle my eyes and he disappears with Kayden.
***
I don’t see Gio again that night, and the next morning while Kace practices, I find Ella in the kitchen alone.
“Where’s Gio?” I ask.
“He and Kayden went to take down the Blue Owls.” She lifts her coffee cup in a salute. “That’s a good thing. Kayden likes him. So do I. He’s going to be okay, Aria. I promise.”
A part of me shouts with relief. Another fears for his safety. “The letter with his name on it from my father,” I say. “Can you bring it to me?”
“Yes. I will. You can go get it with me, if you like, and see our vault. He knows nothing about it or his inheritance. That’s your story to tell.” She pats the table next to her. “Come have coffee with me.”
I fill a cup and join her and soon she’s telling me all about Gio and Kayden’s long talk. And the details are good. They soothe the soul of the long-standing control freak in me.
It’s a full three days later, and I’m sitting at a coffee shop with Kace when Gio appears at our table. “Gio,” I breathe out, relieved, so very relieved at the sight of him.
Kace stands and Gio offers him his hand. “I owe you about ten apologies. I’m sorry. You’re good to my sister. You really are a rock star.”
Kace shakes his hand and Gio pulls him into a hug, and says, “I’ll make it up to you.” He looks Kace in the eyes and says. “Brother.”
“Brother,” Kace repeats and then glances at me. “I’ll give you two a few minutes.” He leans down and kisses me before he says, “I’ll be at the waterfall just outside.” He heads for the door.
I stand and Gio hugs me. “I’m sorry.”
Hugging him a bit too tightly, I whisper, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Me, too,” he says and we settle into our seats. “We have a lot to talk about.” He says, leaning in closer. “Sofia is dead. She fired on Kayden and he shot her.”
I swallow hard. “God. I just—wow. I don’t even know what to say. And I feel a little guilty for saying this but I’m glad it was her and not you.”
“That makes two of us. I’d rather live a nice long life.” He sips Kace’s coffee and says, “Needs sugar.”
I hand him sugar. “What else?” I prod, craving answers.
“The rest of the Blue Owls are dealt with. They’re reporting to Kayden or they quit. The important thing here is they are no longer a threat. They all got what they deserved.”
“I can’t believe Sofia’s dead. What about her father?”
“Bowed down to Kayden like he’s a god. Hard to believe he was the leader of the Blue Owls. But Kayden wants nothing to do with him. He told him to leave the country and never let him hear his name again. And he did. He ran.”
“Do we know where Angelena was all this time?”
“No idea,” he says. “I don’t know why she showed up when she did either. We may never know.”
“Did Sofia kill her?”
“I have no doubt her or one of the Blue Owls killed Angelena. They wanted the formula. She was trying to hand it over to you and Kace.”
“Was she having an affair with dad?”
“We’ll never know but let’s just assume they weren’t.”
“How are you? I mean you loved Sofia.”
> “I’m not hurting over Sofia. I’m relieved she can’t hurt you or anyone else, ever again.” He shifts the topic. “I’m not going back to the States, Aria. I’m going to join Kayden here. I’m going to work for him. It’s hard to explain how he made that happen with the Blue Owls, but the man has a way with power. I want to be a part of that.”
“And I want you to be happy.” I reach into my purse and pull out the envelope to him from our father. “A friend of Dad’s kept a few things for us, Gio.”
“Who?”
“Donelle Bianchini.”
His brows furrow. “Oh yeah. I remember him. Barely, but I remember him. He and Dad were close. What in the world did he keep for us and how did you find out?”
I tell him the story and set the letter in front of him. “From Dad. I wouldn’t read it here. Mine made me cry. But so you know, he wrote to me about a lot of things, but especially you.”
“Me?” he laughs and not gently. “Did he call me a wildcard and to beware?”
“He called you a free spirit who couldn’t be held down. Paraphrasing but he said that he wants you to be you, free to live life. He wished you your freedom. And gave you a lot of money. He left us a lot of money. He was right that day you fought in his office. We didn’t need to sell the formula. We had money. We have money.”
He stares at me, just stares at me, and then reaches for the envelope. He opens it and starts reading. When he’s done, he gets up and leaves. I rush after him and find him facing the wall, leaning on it with his hands. “Gio?”
He pushes off the wall, tears in his eyes. “I don’t want his damn money. I want him back.”
Tears sprout in my eyes, his emotions beating at mine. “I know. Me, too.”
He lifts the letter. “He told me,” he pauses, hesitates, seems to reach for his words, before he says, “so many things, and I regret how damn hardheaded I was with him about everything. Damn it, why is he gone?”
We hug each other and cry, but it’s a healing cry, the kind that touches a wound and slowly allows it to heal. And I know that’s what we’re doing. We’re healing and even from his grave, Dad is our guide.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
A Sinful Encore Page 22