“No one,” I say. “I remembered it on the plane.”
His eyes glint like hot coals. “Are you lying?”
“Matteo told you about my amnesia. You watched me on the castle cameras. I didn’t know until I saw you again. You were my trigger.”
He leans forward, grabbing my legs now instead of Sara’s. “You and that necklace are mine. Sara, I will release. But you aren’t leaving me again. Understood?”
“You’ll never have me,” I promise him. “Even if I’m with you.”
His lips curve. “Ah, Ella. I do so enjoy the way you challenge me.” The car begins to slow and he leans back, releasing my legs, the driver telling him in French that we’ve arrived. “Is that the place?” he demands.
I look outside. We’re stopped in front of the row of stores and businesses where the chocolate shop is nestled, and thankfully it’s still open. “That’s it,” I say, my senses tingling in ways I understand but couldn’t explain to someone else. This is it. Everything ends here.
“Pull around back,” he orders the driver, a directive I revel in. The odds that Kayden will be here or have someone here are more than 50 percent, and the back of the building gives him room to take action. Or me. I’m no princess waiting to be rescued by her prince; the back door works for me as well. Especially since Neuville is concerned about a surprise attack and instructs the other two vehicles to take up strategic positions near the store. He’s worried about Kayden and that works for me. Fewer men for me to kill at one time.
“Where will I find the necklace?” he demands as we claim a chunk of the tiny lot, which seems to be for employees, not oversized limos.
“I hid it inside a certain display box,” I say, but in my mind’s eye, I see myself in a hallway by the bathroom, burying it under the foliage of a fake plant. “I’ll need to go in myself.”
He considers me a moment. “Bastile,” he calls out, ordering him to escort me into the store in French, at the same time that he grabs a chunk of Sara’s hair. He yanks her to him, leaning in to speak beside her ear. “Tell her if she calls for help, I’ll kill you. Choke you to death, one breath at a time. Right here in this car.” Sara doesn’t comply and he jerks her head backward. “Tell her.”
“He’ll kill me,” she repeats, squeezing her eyes shut.
“I’ll choke you,” he says, disgustingly licking her ear. “Tell her.”
“He’ll choke me,” Sara repeats and now her eyes are open, the look I find there resolved to whatever comes next. Not panicked, just . . . resolved.
What comes next is Neuville dying and her going free.
“No phone calls,” he says. “No conversations with strangers.” He reaches up and attempts to rip down the front of Sara’s dress. Luckily the lining defeats him, but he acts as if it hasn’t. “Her dress comes off if you are one minute over ten.”
I inhale, but I don’t look at Sara again. I can’t. I don’t want to think of the two of them in the car alone when I need to think about how to ensure she gets out of it alone and unharmed. The door opens and I exit into the dark parking lot to stand in front of Bastile, whose close proximity allows me a better look at his shoulder holster with only one gun, resting at his rib cage. It’s almost time. I’ll be taking that from him soon. Just not now. Not until I ensure that I send Kayden a message that I’m here in the city, just in case this location isn’t on his radar, as I expect it to be.
We walk toward the store, going to the front door, which pleases me. And then I get more of those tingling sensations that have become a part of my missions. They tell me when I’m on target. They tell me that my people are watching. And my unrushed pace give
s Kayden or his Hunters a chance to confirm that the limo equates to my presence. We round the building and I continue walking slowly. Bastile doesn’t like this. He grabs my arm and yanks me forward. Another plus in my favor; it tells the right people the tone of my situation. But no matter what, much of what comes next must be dictated by me. Those watching, and I feel that they are, won’t know how much danger Sara is in, or even myself. There could be a gun pointed at my head, or hers, that they can’t see.
“I’ll be inside the exit, watching you,” Bastile warns before opening the door, and I walk inside the decently spacious store, considering this is Paris and all things come in petite.
Wasting no time, I immediately walk to the opposite side of the store, knock over a box, and use that for camouflage as I yank the credit card from my boot that, thankfully, slides out easily. I think I’ve been found, but I’m going to make sure. Next, I walk to a table with a packaged gift and motion to the attendant. She hurries over to me and I put my back to Bastile and face her, slipping her my card and speaking in French. “I’ll take two of these, please. Charge them. It’s a gift for the man by the door and his wife, so please be discreet? I want to surprise them over dinner tonight for their anniversary.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, please. If he comes over here, can you say, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have that item’? Tell him that you’re checking the other store and can I check back in an hour? That will give me an excuse to sneak back here in a few minutes and get my card and package, while they shop elsewhere.”
“Of course,” she agrees, thankfully quite sweet. “I love secret gifts. They are so fun!”
She hurries off and I turn to find Bastile charging toward me. “What was that about?”
“The display I was looking for is missing. She’s trying to find out if it’s still in the building.” I cross my arms in front of me. “We just have to wait for her and pray. Otherwise—”
“You said nothing else?”
“Wait with me. She’ll be right back. Or do you need to hold up the door?”
The attendant hurries back to me and sticks to the plan. “I’m sorry. It’s just not available here. I’m checking another store. Will you be in the area awhile? Can you check back in an hour?”
“I will,” I say. “And I’ll come back.”