“I don’t have clarity on that, but yes,” I say. “I believe I somehow found out that Neuville set up the David situation.”
“Pierre Remy therefore somehow connects dots between David and Neuville.”
“That makes sense, but I can’t help but feel like it’s something different altogether.”
His phone buzzes again and he reads the message and eyes me. “Marabella has hot croissants just out of the oven, and wants to know if we want some.”
“Are we even considering an answer other than yes?”
“Exactly my thoughts,” he says, typing a reply. “I’ll tell her to bring them up.”
“Wait, though. What time is it? We’re supposed to have lunch with Giada.”
He glances at the clock on his phone. “It’s ten o’clock, but I cancelled with Giada and told her tentatively tomorrow. I didn’t know how you’d feel today.”
“Thank you. I’m eager to talk to her, but today is not the day. And is it even safe, anyway?”
He scoots closer and slides his arm under my knees. “Neuville won’t come here. And now not only do you have me and Evil Eye protecting you, which Niccolo knows, by the way, but he himself has any number of reasons to do so, as well.”
A knock sounds on the door, and we hear, “Brunch in bed! Are you decent?”
Kayden and I both smile, and he murmurs, “For once, we are. You up for this?”
“Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t be?”
He kisses my nose and calls out, “Come in, Marabella,” and that silly, tender action has me ridiculously giddy when he releases me and gets up to help her.
A few moments later the room is enveloped in the scent of hot bread and coffee, as well as Marabella’s chattiness, and I have this surreal moment of family and belonging. My mind shifts to Sara, my friend in the States, and I know then that she’s as alone as I am, but we’ve found a sisterhood in each other. A bit like what I hope I can give Giada. Thoughts like that remain on my mind after Marabella leaves and Kayden and I head to the bathroom to shower.
“How about we have a date day?” he suggests, tearing his shirt over his head, giving me a distracting view of his naked torso. “We’ll go buy us both ridiculously expensive watches, explore the neighborhood, and then go to dinner.” He steps to me and reaches for my shirt, pulling it over my head before sliding his arm up my back and molding me to him. “You
need to know your neighborhood.”
“Right. I want to, but I think . . . I’m just feeling gun-shy.”
“That’s why we need to do this. And know this, Ella. I hate Niccolo, but I will partner with him to destroy Neuville, if that’s what it takes to give you peace.”
“Niccolo killed Kevin and Elizabeth. You can’t—”
“Patience is a virtue that keeps people alive and gets you what you want. Niccolo will get what he has coming to him, but right now, you are what matters. Neuville is in my sights, and he has no idea what is coming his way.”
“What are you going to do?”
“The list is long. Think kid in a candy store of weapons, and I’m the kid.” He lifts me and sets me on the sink, pulling my arm and the bracelet between us. “This is a showpiece you can wear anywhere and anytime, but today we’ll also get you a Hawk tattoo to match mine. A message to anyone who dares touch you, that they will die.” He tangles his fingers in my hair, dragging my gaze to his. “They will die painfully.” Then he kisses me, and that promise of protection is on his lips, but there’s more. Something darker. Something that makes me kiss him deeper and, once we’re in the shower, fuck harder. Something that feels way too much like dread.
Kayden and I dress casually, both ending up in black jeans and T-shirts, with lace-up black boots. While I feel quite chic in my Chanel coat, he’s ruggedly handsome in his black-and-gray biker jacket. We take a car service to the Spanish Steps and spend the afternoon shopping, walking around the high-end stores nearby, where he indeed buys a ridiculously expensive Rolex for himself and tries to buy one for me as well, but I refuse. I want my tattoo on one arm and my bracelet on the other, a choice that warms his eyes. We are growing closer, stronger. We laugh and talk easily, my memories of my mother and father blossoming, and I share them as they come to me.
At one point we sit at a tiny café, waiting for espressos. “I already have someone working on connecting you to your last name,” he tells me.
“I know,” I say. “That’s why I didn’t ask. I have that much confidence in you, Kayden. My mother had that kind of faith in my father.”
Our espressos arrive in tiny cups, and on a shared smile we down them. I choke on how strong they are, and he laughs. “That’s why I have a coffeepot at home.” He looks at his new watch, which has a thick black band with a gold face and stirs absolutely no memories. “I want to show you around the neighborhood both before and after dark, so you can see how it changes.”
We pull our coats on and start to get up, when I realize I’ve forgotten something important. “Wait,” I say, grabbing his arm. “Where the hell is my head? I can’t believe I forgot this. Donati called me yesterday while you were gone.”
“How does Donati have your number?” he asks, settling back into his seat.
“It has to be Gallo—so he’s not working to get Gallo off our backs at all.”