“What the—” Sasha starts. “That’s Gallo. He couldn’t have followed me. That’s not possible.” She grimaces. “I should have put a man on him.”
Matteo hits the volume, and we hear Gallo shouting through the rain in Italian, but I catch the word Kayden several times. “He’s obviously not here for Sasha,” Matteo says. “But we need to know what’s wrong. I’ll go talk to him.” He eyes Sasha. “Get someone on him now.”
“Let me go talk to him,” I say, standing up. “I’m still an outsider like him, someone he wants to save. I have the best chance of finding out what’s wrong with him.”
“I’m not letting you open that door,” Matteo says. “Kayden trusts me to protect you. We do this together or not at all.”
“He trusts us to be a team,” Sasha says. “And I know Gallo. He’s not dangerous.”
“And yet he’s going to join The Jackals?” Matteo counters.
“Which will end with him dead—not someone else,” Sasha says.
“The poor man is getting drenched,” I remind them. “You’re both right here in the office.”
Sasha punches buttons on the computer. “There is no one else dumb enough to be outside, Matteo. It’s a ghost town. We’re right here with her; she’ll be safe.”
He grimaces. “I’m going to be squatting behind the counter. Sasha will be in the office with the lights out.”
That’s all I need to hear. Matteo takes his position behind the counter. Sasha flips the light out behind me, and I head toward the door. Flipping the locks, I open the door and step back, bringing a drenched Gallo into view. He scowls at the sight of me, or maybe he was already scowling. Whatever the case, he charges through the door, water pouring off of him, and shuts it behind him.
“Where’s Kayden?” he demands, tugging down the hood on his tan trench coat, his hair a rumpled mess, but then it always is, his gray eyes etched with anger. His impatience wins over and he repeats himself a bit more gruffly. “Where the fuck is Kayden?”
“He’s not in,” I say. “What’s got you so riled up?”
“Kayden fucking happened,” he proclaims, the puddle at his feet becoming wider. “If he’s not here, why are you in the store?”
“Is there some rule in Italy that I don’t know about women and stores? Since when do I need Kayden to be in here? And while it’s none of your business, I’m taking over the store. It’s mine now, and I’m working late to put my personal touches on it.”
“You’re staying with him, then, Eleana—is that it?”
“Yes, Detective Gallo, I’m staying with him. And call me Ella. I know you’ve heard people call me that. Hell, you’ve done it a few times before. I prefer it.”
He reaches in his pocket and holds up a picture of a young woman with an X over her face and some Italian words written across it. “Do you know about this? Is this the kind of action you condone?”
“What is that?” I ask, already knowing I’m not going to like the answer.
“A photo of my sister who lives in Milan, with a threat against her life. This is the kind of man you’re with. Is this the kind of person you are?”
“Kayden didn’t do this,” I say quickly, certain this is Niccolo and Alessandro’s handiwork. “He would never do such a thing, and I just talked to him about you—”
“I don’t want to hear your ridiculous efforts to defend him.” He shoves the photo into his pocket. “You know what is sad? You’re going to wake up to a brutal reconciling of the real man and whoever he’s pretending to be for you. You don’t know him.” He shakes his head. “Tell Kayden his methods backfired. This is war.” He turns and walks toward the exit, and he’s wrong about Kayden. Without question, I know him, but I also know how Gallo is right now, and that’s angry and desperate, two dangerous things. He yanks open the door, pulls up his hood, and disappears into the rain, slamming the door behind him.
“I need to go after him,” Sasha says, stepping out of the office, and Matteo stands up behind the counter. “Before he ends up in Alessandro’s web,” she adds.
“He could be baiting you, and waiting for you to leave,” I warn. “You need to exit the castle in a car, and without visibility.”
“She’s right,” Matteo says. “Did you get someone to follow him?”
“I sent a message to our neighborhood lead,” Sasha says. “He’s on it and he’ll text us both with updates.” She looks at me. “And you’re right about the possible trap. I’m going to call Carlo and see if he can find out anything from inside The Jackals.” She heads back into the office, leaving me with Matteo.
“I’m calling Kayden in case Gallo does something crazy and ends up standing in front of him,” I say, punching in the auto-dial and walking toward the TV room for privacy.
He answers in two rings, his voice deep, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m safe,” I say, “but I need to give you a heads-up to make sure you stay that way. Gallo showed up here in a fury. He had a picture of his sister with a huge X over her face, and some writing in Italian that basically equates to a threat. He thinks you did it. I told him it’s not you, but he’s out of his mind right now.”
“Where is he now?” he asks, receiving the information as calmly as he does everything.
“We’ve had him followed, but he just left. He was standing in the pouring rain, pounding insanely on the store door. My worry is that he’ll connect with Alessandro and alert him to where you are. Or he’ll wait and try to confront you when you return to the castle.”
“You did right by calling me,” he says. “I just left Niccolo. Obviously I need to get back and have another conversation with him about Alessandro and Gallo.”
I want to ask what happened in their meeting, but this isn’t the time. “Sasha wants to go to him, to try to get him under control, but—”
“No. Gallo followed her earlier. This could be a setup.”
“That was my thought as well,” I say. “Right now, we’re waiting to see where he goes and what he does.”
“Text me if there are new developments. Call me if you feel it’s urgent.”
“I will.” I bite back another “be safe” that I know isn’t what The Hawk needs to hear. “While you’re talking to Niccolo, just remember that he’s afraid of dying. And fear—”
“Is punishment,” he supplies. “That idea is going to make me sleep better tonight. Make sure someone calls Adriel and updates him.”
“I will.”
He’s silent for a moment, then two, and I almost think he’s hung up before I hear, “Ella.”
“Yes?”
He says something in Italian, his voice low, gruff, intimate, and then he hangs up—leaving me wondering what he said, and why he wouldn’t say it in English.
eleven
I end the call with Kayden and head toward the store again, Sasha meeting me under the archway dividing the TV room from the store.
“I just called Adriel and filled him in,” she says. “He’s already successfully handed off the cocktail to our man inside Niccolo’s operation, and he’s pulling into our driveway now. Did you reach Kayden?”
“I did,” I confirm, “and he was worried about Gallo setting you up before I even mentioned it myself.”
“I really don’t think that’s what that was. Not based on how upset he was, and per our man following him, Gallo parked at the front of the castle and is making his way to his car in the pouring rain. If he set me up he’d be waiting around and would surely have a better plan than pounding on the door in the rain.”
“You have to remember that Alessandro is involved with him now, and by reputation, he’s devious.”
“Alessandro already knows I work for Kayden. Oh, crap! I don’t think Gallo knows my story yet, but Alessandro could tell him at any time.”
“He might have hinted at it, or told him and
Gallo didn’t want to believe it, so he followed you.”
“Maybe. Either way, now that I’ve had time to process Alessandro’s involvement, I can’t reconnect with Gallo. He’s too volatile. I could ignite new anger that might send him into the deep end.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “And I hate that, because Gallo really is a mess. He needs someone to ground him. I’m hoping he just goes home tonight and drinks or sleeps this off.”
“His sister is in danger,” she says. “He’s not going to just let this go.”
“What are you thinking?”
“That he’ll go to Milan,” she says, and we both look at each other as the light bulb goes off. “And,” she adds, “that’s exactly what the goal was.”
“He leaves the city,” I supply, “and he’s no longer able to cause trouble.”
“It’s a temporary fix, but a fix,” she says. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that means his sister is safe. Not with the people we’re dealing with.”
The sound of the door between us and the castle lifting sends both of us in that direction, and we arrive in front of it at the same moment Adriel appears. “Where’s Gallo now?” he asks, his dark hair slightly damp, the scowl on his face seeming to deepen the scar down his cheek.
“He’s headed toward the airport,” Matteo announces, joining us. “I hacked the database and he leaves for Milan on the last flight out tonight. I’ve already contacted our people in Milan and arranged coverage at the airport when he arrives and at his sister’s place immediately.”
Sasha and I glance at each other. “We were right,” she says.
“You were right,” I say, glancing at Sasha. “They got him out of town.”
“They did,” Adriel says dryly, his hands settling on his hips. “It was, in fact, brilliant, except for the part where they threatened his damn sister, which makes an angry man angrier.”
“Not to mention making him think it was Kayden,” I comment.
“Obviously intentional,” Adriel supplies, “and my guess is that it’s Alessandro’s way of convincing Niccolo that he did what was requested, while still ensuring Kayden has a problem to manage.”
“He probably didn’t expect Gallo to show up here and show his hand,” I say. “Kayden’s taking it up with Niccolo now.”
Adriel’s jaw tightens with his voice. “Fuck, I hate when he goes to see him alone.”
“If anyone’s going to die, it’ll be Niccolo.”
“Exactly,” Adriel replies. “You can only sit across from the man who murdered your family so many times before you put a bullet in his head. And the hell that will follow, if that isn’t planned, and planned well, is not the bitch you want in your bed, believe me.”
“He won’t kill him now,” I say. “He’s too capable of seeing the big picture, which includes making Niccolo suffer.”
“Niccolo suffering sounds like the promise of sweet dreams,” he says, “and a good thought to say good night on.” He eyes Matteo. “Go home and get some rest. We’ll sneak Sasha out in the morning.”
Matteo scrubs a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to argue that, but I’ll be in touch if there’s an update on Gallo.” He starts walking and calls over his shoulder, “Someone needs to watch the gate when I leave, and make sure no one sneaks in.”
“Call me before you pull out.” Adriel’s gaze then lands on me. “Kayden’s going to be a while. I’d feel better if you were secure in your tower.”
Secure. That word hits a nerve that refuses to be ignored. “Speaking of feeling secure,” I say, immediately reminded of the watch and the torn pages in my journal. “If Matteo was out-hacked with the watch situation, couldn’t he have been out-hacked here at the castle?”
His eyes narrow and then he shouts, “Matteo!”
Matteo groans and then backs up, rejoining us. “What went wrong in thirty seconds?”
“Talking through recent events,” Adriel says, “Ella and I have concerns that the castle security might have been breached.”
“It wasn’t breached,” he says, giving me an irritated look that says he knows this is from me. “That didn’t happen.”
“Is it impossible?” he asks. “Or improbable?”
“Your form of dry smart-ass doesn’t work for you or anyone,” Matteo says. “Some fucker with a watch who knows how to create a fake identity does not an expert hacker make. But I’ll hack for hacks, if that’s what we think is the best use of my time.”
“Hey, man,” Adriel says, holding his hands up. “We’re just trying to keep everyone safe. We’re dealing with Alessandro and two mob bosses, one of whom killed Kayden’s family, while the other one is obsessed with Ella.”
Matteo’s expression tightens, right along with his voice. “You’re right. You’re right.” He looks at me. “I get a little defensive about hacking. It’s my thing.” He points to his shirt. “Italian Stallion and all, you know?”
“I know you are,” I say. “I’m just worried about someone getting hurt because of me. I couldn’t live with that.”
“No one is going to get hurt, Ella,” Adriel says firmly. “We won’t let that happen.”
“We can’t let that happen.” The numerous ways Garner Neuville might strike are too many to fathom.
“I’ll double- and triple-check every possible breach when I get home,” Matteo promises. “I’ll text you both.”
“Thank you, Matteo,” I say. “I really do appreciate it.”
“He was just being an asshole with an ego,” Sasha calls out, which Matteo replies to in Italian that is distinctly snarky, and then he’s turned and disappeared into the hallway.
“You think there was a breach in the castle?” Sasha asks, concerned. “How and when?”
“I’ll fill you in on her concerns myself, Sasha,” Adriel says, his brown eyes falling on her.
“She’s standing right here,” she says. “Why can’t she tell me?”
“Because you and I have a lot to talk about, on many topics. Conversations better had in private, in my tower.”
Translation: in his bed.
For just a moment they stare at each other, the sizzle between them making me feel like I’m invading their privacy. I delicately clear my throat. “I should go to my tower.”
“Are you sure?” Sasha asks, immediately turning her attention to me. “If you don’t want to be alone, I can join you.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m actually eager to get back to Kayden’s and my private space and focus on the data we printed out. I’m going to grab it and get out of here.”
“What data?” Adriel asks.
“I’ll tell you in your tower,” Sasha teases, and I turn away, a smile on my lips. There is something about these two together that works, but I have a feeling that’s also the problem. There is a lot of something between them, but both of them have plenty of reasons to fear trust and love.
I make my way to the front of the store, pausing before I round the counter, and I eye Gallo’s puddle of water that I should clean up but decide to ignore. Puddles of water are fine. Puddles of blood are not. Entering the office, I reach for my stack of papers, noting that they are face up now, not face down. Either Matteo or Sasha looked through my papers. Maybe Sasha just wanted to recap and see if she could think of anything more. Or maybe she added images from near the club. Or Matteo might have been curious. Thinking back to the meeting, he was pretty excited about the five-million-dollar payday, maybe more so than the others. My brow furrows. Why am I even spending time on this?
I snatch up the papers and leave the office, ready to go to my private space with Kayden. Even more eager for him to return.
Once I’m alone and inside the foyer of our tower, I grab my purse from the coat rack where I’d hung it earlier, settling the strap on my shoulder. I fully intend to head up the stairs, but my gaze catches on the office
that is now officially where Kayden proposed to me. Drawn in that direction, I cross the foyer and enter the room, where my gaze lands on the couch, random memories from earlier today assailing me. Namely, the spanking that wasn’t a beating or really even a spanking. It was this sexy, erotic, consuming rush. Intimate and right in ways that I don’t think it could be with anyone but Kayden. And I swear I can almost feel him next to me again. And damn it, I can almost feel the way I hurt him, too. I inhale the scent of him lingering in the air, and promise myself I’m going to make up for that every day for the rest of our lives.
My attention moves to the desk, with the roll of tape still sitting on it, and I cross to pick it up, more memories flitting through my mind.
“What are you doing?” I’d demanded, when he’d started tearing the tape.
“Proving a point,” he’d said.
And boy, had he.
I trust him completely. Considering how badly I handled this afternoon, I need to tell him this again. Actually, I need to tell him so many things. And I’d love one of them to be the location of the necklace, so we can start putting all of this mess behind us. Motivated by that idea, I open the top desk drawer and scavenge for the supplies I need to create a memory wall. I leave with scissors, thumbtacks, and my trusty roll of tape. Once I’m upstairs, I stand at the edge of the stairs and wait for some sense of unease, but I don’t find it. I head down the hallway and reach our door, and stop dead in my tracks with a realization. Where’s that creepy “I’m being watched” feeling I’ve come to know as normal? I turn and face the hallway, waiting for it to wash over me, but it doesn’t. Have I finally killed the paranoia by talking about it to everyone? And my imaginary ghost with it?
Not sure what to make of this new development, I enter the bedroom and flip on the light as well as the fireplace. The bed is now made, which of course is Marabella’s doing. She is always on top of everything. Shutting the door, I toss my things on top of the blanket and cross to the security booth, where I check the entire tower just to be sure I’m alone, and then do a scan of the store and random other locations. Once I feel good about there being no safety concerns, I return to the bedroom and stare down at my supplies. I play with the idea of setting up a wall of memories in my dance studio, where memories of my past, and my mother, already live, but I really want it to be here in this room for some reason. I could use the security room, but it’s so small. So . . . where?