A Sinful Encore

by Lisa Renee Jones

***

  Kace convinces me to eat what turns out to be an excellent bowl of macaroni and cheese, brought in by a catering service. Afterward, Kace and Adrian end up in a meeting in the lounge and judging from Kace’s intensity, I’m pretty sure it’s about keeping me safe when we arrive in Rome. When I would join them, Savage intervenes and points to a chair. “Sit. I need to check your vitals.”

  My gut tells me he’s trying to keep me out of Kace and Adrian’s conversation, but I cave to the demand and plant myself in the chair. “Thank you, Savage,” I say as he slides a blood pressure cuff around my arm.

  “Thank me with food,” he says. “Pizza in Rome.”

  “Pizza it is. And I still can’t believe you’re a surgeon.”

  “When you know how to save a life, you know how to take a life.” My eyes go wide and he meets my stare. “That should be comforting considering I’m protecting you. And you’re checked out and approved. All is well.”

  “We just need that bloodwork, right?”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t worry much about that.”

  I hesitate and then lower my voice. “Would any of the drugs I’ve taken affect me or my baby if I’m pregnant?”

  He leans back on his haunches. “You think you’re pregnant?”

  “There’s a small chance, very small, but it’s worrying me. And the fact that I’m hyper-focusing on it feels like some gut instinct.”

  “One of the two drugs is completely safe. The other, there’s a slight risk of complications to the fetus, but it wouldn’t have been withheld in the ER. You were in a life-threatening situation. I’ll see if I can get a blood pregnancy test done with the sample we’ve already drawn.”

  “Thank you. How early would that show results?”

  “Have you missed your period?”

  “No, but I started on the pill and we didn’t wait the time we were supposed to wait.”

  “Then I’m going to tell you it’s too soon for the blood test and you’re probably overreacting.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I study him a moment, taken aback by this serious side to Savage. “You’re not the same person when you talk about medical issues.”

  “I’m a man of many faces,” he says, “but don’t be fooled. Not all of them are good.”

  “Now you sound like Kace.”

  “Yes,” he says. “I do. I volunteer for anything he needs for a reason. I get him. I understand him. We are more alike than we appear.”

  I tilt my head, reading between the lines. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you are worried about everyone around you, even an unborn child that might not even exist, and I know what headspace that puts you in. You’ve lost people. You’re afraid of losing someone else. So has he. I get it. I fucking get it on every level. My wife could kill a bottle of wine with you just talking about how much, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you and it’s about Kace. So, when you ask yourself if he’s better off without you, the answer is no. No, he is not. Not even a little bit.”

  My mind goes to my nights with Kace and how certain I was I should walk away to protect him. Then to the night Alexander showed up in San Francisco when Kace was ready to push me away then. I thought we were beyond that place, but Savage didn’t just say those things to me for no reason. He knows something I don’t know, I think. I just don’t know and that’s the problem.

  It’s with that thought that Kace appears in front of me. “I need some shuteye. You in?”

  “Believe it or not, after all that sleep I had, I need more.”

  He helps me to my feet and finally, I feel steady, as steady as you can be on a plane.

  A few minutes later we’re in bed, the light above us turned out, and I’m snuggled under his arm, his heart thundering a bit too loudly beneath my palm. He’s not relaxed at all and I can’t help but connect that to his talk with Adrian that Savage kept me from joining. “What were you and Adrian talking about?”

  He’s silent a long moment before he says, “Nancy.”

  I sit up and turn on the light. “What about Nancy?”

  He inches up on his elbow. “I got a weird vibe from her at the apartment.”

  “I did, too,” I admit, “but Gio called and I forgot about it. I trust her, though. I do. I love her.”

  “I asked Blake to make sure she hasn’t been corrupted in any way.”

  “And?”

  “And she deposited ten thousand dollars in her account last week.”

  I feel those words like yet another sharp blade cutting me. If this keeps up, I’m going to bleed out, but I just have no energy to react. I don’t say anything. I don’t try to reason away the money. I just can’t. I simply turn off the light and lay back down on Kace’s shoulder.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  After a nap, Kace and I join Adrian and Savage in the lounge, and soon a bottle of expensive wine is broken out. Savage fills my glass. “Is this okay for me right now?”

  “You didn’t react to the booze. You reacted to the drugs, but,” he takes my glass, “I’ll drink yours. You wait a few days.”

  Which is fine by me, I think. I’d rather start my period before I drink again.

  Kace whips out his practice violin, and I forget wine and pregnancy as he delivers a prelude to home with a little taste of home: his brilliant version of Paganini’s “Caprice No. 5.” Because to me, home is where my love of the violin began. I’m in heaven on a plane when Adrian challenges him to play, Maluma’s “11pm” a hit song on the Latin charts, and to my surprise, Kace knows it.

  “Big fan,” he says, giving me a wink, and then he’s playing while Adrian begins to sing in Spanish and well. Really well. Savage is up dancing when he hits his head and we are all in stitches laughing. When the song concludes, Savage is refilling glasses.

  “You’re a great singer, Adrian,” I say. “Wow.”

  Savage lifts his glass in Adrian’s direction. “This mofo’s brother is Rafael, as in the famous Mexican singer. And yet, here Adrian is, a badass with a gun, chasing bad guys instead of becoming a pop star.”

  “Your brother?” I ask, casting Adrian a keen eye, and thinking of the brother he said he’d killed.

  “The other brother,” Adrian says. “Rafael’s the good one. I stay away so he stays that way.”

  He stays away so his brother stays that way, I repeat in my mind, and even as I do, it rings true for Gio. He is guilty of living a double life, but I know he never intended for me to be hurt. I know he didn’t plan to hand me over to Sofia last night. He thought he could keep his life and mine divided and therefore keep me safe and that backfired. Now it’s my turn to keep us both safe.

  An hour later, Kace and I are strapped into two leather seats and we land in Rome in the early afternoon at a private airport. We’re still taxiing when I reach for my phone in my purse to find it missing. “Do you know where my phone is?”

  “Dismantled along with mine, until after we go public,” he says. “We both have burner phones in the suitcase, including a few extras to toss after any high-risk call.”

  “But how will I call Gio or he me?”

  “You can check your messages,” he replies, “and then use a burner phone to call him, but it has to be trashed after the call. Your number isn’t gone. We just can’t use our phones right now or we risk being traced.”

  It’s moments like these that make me wonder how my mother kept us off the radar all those years. Of course, Gio wasn’t flying off to Italy back then either. “And what about Nancy?” I ask. “She’s going to know something is up if I don’t take her calls.”

  “Blake’s going to give us a more detailed update on what he found out about her later today. Then we’ll talk through how to handle her.”

  Savage leans over the seat. “Bloodwork looks good. The moral of the story is—well, I don’t have a moral to the story, but Adrian probably has a bad joke about it. Wait for it. You’ll see.” With that, he disappears again
.

  I digest his words with a momentarily blip of relief and then I’m back to the topic of Gio and how to reach him. “How do I check my messages?”

  “Adrian’s going to help us get everything set-up once we’re at the castle.”

  The plane halts and Kace stands up. “We’re here, baby. Home sweet Italy.”

  I smile with those words, and I feel that smile all the way to my soul. “Home sweet Italy.” I stand and we make our way to the exit, and any hesitation I might have had about stepping foot back in Italy has faded during this flight. I’m ready to own our plan, to move forward, to celebrate a new year in a whole new light.

  Kace and I exit the plane behind Adrian and in front of Savage, who is big, broad, and lethal, all the jokes aside right now. I realize now how they change in duty, not so much in personality but in energy. Right now, they really are Terminators protecting us. It doesn’t feel like they expect danger, but rather, they’re ready for it should it surprise us. I decide that’s actually pretty liberating. No one gets to us without going through them and they’ve already proven they will win a confrontation. Hand in hand with Kace, I draw my first breath of Italian air since I was eleven and it’s perfection, filling me with memories of pasta, holidays, and daises in the wind. The weather is milder than I expected, my coat too heavy, but then I am warm from the inside out. We walk down the short flight of stairs to find a stunning pair, a man and woman, waiting on us, both in all black, including their boots and jackets. It’s Kayden and Ella, I just know. She’s red-headed, petite, beautiful. He’s tall, with longish light brown hair, a square jaw, and a dimple in his chin.

  Adrian is the first to greet them, shaking Kayden’s hand and laughing with him and Ella just before Kace and I join them.

  “Aria,” Ella greets, her green eyes landing on me, her red silky hair blowing in the wind. “I’m Ella.” She steps into me and hugs me. “Sara told me so much about you.” She inches back to look at me. “I know what it’s like to hide. I know what it’s like to stop hiding. We’re going to help you do that safely.”

  I believe her. I believe her. There is just something about her, just as there is about Sara. “Thank you,” I say. “So very much.”

  “No thanks needed.”

  She smiles and eases back to her spot next to Kayden, while Kayden and Kace are shaking hands, and my gaze catches on a glimpse of ink on his arm, gone before I can make it out. “Piacere di conoscerti, Aria,” he says, turning his attention on me. His eyes are a striking pale blue, not quite as intense as Kace’s, but pretty intense.

  As for his greeting, it means “nice to meet you” in Italian, and my eyes pinch a little as I answer with “Piacere di conoscerti, Kayden,” speaking my native language freely, comfortably for the first time in my adult life and doing so here in Italy.

  “Did you speak English when you went to the States?” he asks, an easy confidence and air of control about him that does nothing to diminish his friendliness.

  “I did,” I confirm. “My parents felt it was important for me to know English.”

  “Kayden and I have both lived in the States,” Ella says, “so we appreciate the differences in good and bad ways between the States and Italy.”

  “Kayden,” Savage greets, stepping into our little circle to shake Kayden’s hand. “How the fuck are you?” he asks, but before Kayden can answer, Savage eyes Ella and holds ups his hands. “Don’t kick my ass. I’ll be good on this trip.”

  Ella laughs a sweet, friendly laugh. “You’re never good, Savage.”

  Kace slides his arm around me and Kayden’s attention is back on us. “We have a lot to talk about,” he says. “Let’s get to the castle and you two can wash up and rest, and we’ll have some real Italian food and talk.” He motions to a black SUV, which is apparently the universal vehicle for bodyguards. “Your driver is Sasha,” he adds, “who will kick anyone’s ass in her way, including mine. We’ll follow you to the castle.”

  My gaze lifts to a silver sports car just beyond the SUV that’s obviously their ride. The Underground is clearly treating Kayden right. Sometimes money and power breeds a need for more money and power, but I have no sense that Kayden and Ella are those people. My gut, and friends I trust, say to trust them.

  Kace and I head toward the SUV and Sasha, a pretty brunette who oozes attitude and sex. “I’m Sasha,” she says, looking between us, “and I get it. Aria’s royalty in these parts and you, Kace August, are famous. Which is why I’m your personal ass-kicker.”

  Adrian joins us. “I can handle the ass-kicking.”

  Sasha snorts. “Men. They always think they kick ass. Right until they get their asses kicked. Notice Savage isn’t riding with us. Because he learned the hard way.” She motions to Adrian and the vehicle. “You can get the door.” She heads around the hood and calls out, “Let’s go, my little pretties.”

  Adrian’s smiling when he opens the door. “Love me some attitude. This won’t be a boring few weeks, that’s for damn sure.”

  Laughing, I head to the vehicle, but just before I climb inside Kace catches my elbow. I turn to him and he steps behind the door, sheltering me between it and him. “How do you feel so far?” he asks, his voice a low masculine hum of concern.

  “Good. I feel good about them and this. Like I’m where I’m supposed to be. Like we’re where we’re supposed to be. Whatever happens here is what was meant to happen. I know that sounds silly, but I feel it clear to my soul.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Kayden and Ella’s castle is in the middle of the Trastevere neighborhood, which I know because I’ve done more than a little obsessing over Italy over the years. This area is old Rome charm with narrow brick roads that double as sidewalks. That’s one thing I remember about Italy: you can sit at an outdoor restaurant table and a car could drive by so close you can touch it. To say that the Italians like to keep things cozy is an understatement.

  We travel those streets now, in between plastered buildings, little shops, and restaurants everywhere, and I am bubbling with excitement. And it’s not just about being in Italy. It’s about the freedom to be somewhere other than a corner of New York City.

  I’m trying to figure out where a castle could possibly be hidden when we turn a corner into a square with a gated stone castle as the centerpiece. “And there it is,” Kace murmurs. “A little piece of history. The history is one of the things I love about this country.” He kisses my hand. “And you’re a part of that history, baby.”

  “My father was,” I say, feeling pride in how hard he worked to maintain the Stradivari name and quality.

  “You are making him proud, baby. I believe that. The more I think about it, the more I know that hiding and letting the name die was not what he would have wanted.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “You’re so right. I believe in what we’re doing. And I believe that’s why being here, right now, feels exciting.”

  Sasha must hit a button somewhere because the gates to the castle begin to open and I find myself smiling up at Kace. “I’ve never been in a castle.”

  He leans in, his breath a warm tease of my lips, his hand on my face. “You’re going to live the life you deserve now, baby. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  “Kace,” I whisper, my hand covering his. He blows me away every day. He really does. He saved me, he keeps saving me and yet he would tell me I’m saving him. The SUV halts and Kace kisses me before releasing me and following our progress. The gates to the castle open and we enter the grounds, following a half-circle driveway to stop in front of a staircase that leads to a giant door.

  “Here we go, baby,” Kace says, squeezing my leg. “Our resting spot until we head to France and we’re one step closer to popping open the prison door.” As if for emphasis, he does just that. He pops opens the door and winks, and be still my heart when the man is in full Kace August charm mode. I’m a giddy schoolgirl with a new boyfriend. And it’s pretty wonderful to be a
n adult riding that kind of high.

  Smiling, excited for our shared journey, I accept his hand and slide out of the vehicle, inhaling the scent of flowers, daisies blowing in the wind, I think. Of course, it’s November and the season is gone—it’s my imagination. Still, I inhale my imaginary flowers and snuggle into my coat as a delicious Italian wind whispers around us, just chilly enough to stir up memories of the holidays past, while offering hope for the holidays for the future. “I want to come back for daisy season next year.”

  Kace tenderly strokes a wayward strand of hair from my face, his eyes meeting mine tenderness in their depths. “I can’t think of anything more perfect to celebrate our new life.”

  A smile breaks easily to my lips while the purr of Kayden’s fancy sports car pulling down the drive and into a garage draws our attention. Kace shuts the SUV’s door as the front door to the castle opens. A short, robust Italian woman greets us.

  “Welcome!” she says, all smiles and friendliness as she motions us forward.

  “That’s Marabella,” Sasha says as she and Adrian join us on either side. “Be careful with that one,” she warns. “She likes to feed people and make them fat.”

  I laugh. “So did my mother,” I say. “It’s an Italian thing.”

  “Same with Mexican moms,” Adrian says. “I do miss those homemade tamales, but I’ll settle for some pasta. I think Marabella is about to be my second mom.”

  The sound of a motorcycle flying down the drive draws everyone’s attention. “That would be Savage,” Adrian says. “He had to have a motorcycle for fast escapes, he claims. In other words, he wanted a toy to drive fast and wild.”

  In other words, and more likely, I think, he wanted a toy we could run away on fast, but I don’t linger on that idea.

  “Ever ridden on one?” Kace asks.

  “Never,” I say. “And I’ve never wanted to either. I’m the one who would be pavement plaster.”

  “Not with me driving. Believe me. You’ll change your mind once you get the wind under your chin.”