Demand (25 page)

“What is it?” I ask, suddenly nervous.

He offers it to me, and I take it. “That's the letter Kevin left in the lockbox with the bracelet. I think it pretty much sums up why I chose to give it to you.”

Stunned, I ask, “You want me to read it?”

“Yes.”

Not sure what to expect, I open it and he says, “Out loud.”

I nod and start reading.

Kayden:

This is for your queen, should you find her. I never told you that I found mine. Olivia was strong and brave, and my biggest fear was her death. So I did something she could never forgive, and she left. A year later she was killed in a car accident and died thinking I was a bastard, when in truth, I was just a fool and a coward. You, like your father, are not those things. Maybe I could have saved Olivia, or maybe I just could have loved her until she was gone. Whatever the case, guilt gutted me every second of the rest of my life. Once the game is over, the king and the pawn really do go back in the same box. In death they are indeed equal. But in life, we are not. In life we are a product of more than our decisions. We are the consequence of how we cope with those decisions, and too often that is fear and guilt. Don't let it be fear and guilt.

I lower the letter, my chest tight, my eyes burning. “Even as a child hiding in a closet,” Kayden says, coming down on one knee in front of me, “I knew the moment my mother died. My father let out a roar that was from his soul. I'm struggling with all the feelings I know Kevin had, and the pain my father lived in that moment of loss, which was the same emotion. They both felt they failed the woman they loved. I love you, Ella, so I can't let you go.”

“I love you, too,” I say. “I love you. And if you tried to let me go, I wouldn't let you.”

“Says the woman who hasn't experienced just how protective I can be yet.”

“I think I have.”

“You haven't, but I have a feeling I haven't experienced the full wrath of your anger yet, either.” He wraps his arms around me. “I have a feeling we're going to do a lot of that fighting and fucking, and then making love. But I'm in if you are.”

“I am. Completely in, Kayden.”

His phone rings and he grimaces. “Obviously, I could have timed this better,” he says, pulling me to my feet. “That's going to be Matteo telling me he's here with video from the party. Do you want to watch it with us?”

“Yes,” I say, pleased that he's included me. “Thank you.”

He cups my face and stares down at me. “I'm not losing you, Ella. No matter what that means.” He kisses me, a deep, passionate kiss that is over too quickly. He answers his call, and I put the food away, but as we head down the stairs to the central tower to meet Matteo, his statement comes back to me:
I'm not going to lose you, Ella.
No matter what that means.
And suddenly those words feel foreboding—as if I come with a price he has to pay.

I
wake the next morning to find Kayden gone, and shocked to discover it's nearly ten o'clock. Kayden has likely long been awake, so I hurry to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair, and throw on my leggings and sweater from last night. I won't be surprised if I find Kayden at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and watching the tapes Matteo left us last night. Kayden's downright obsessed with knowing every detail that happened to every single person at the event, down to the coat-check girl and the waiters. He leaves nothing to chance, looking for any detail that might be useful now or later, and I wonder if he learned that from Kevin or, as with the creation of Evil Eye, it's a manifestation of his need for control.

Opening the door to the hallway, I am greeted by a loud banging sound that seems to be coming from upstairs. Frowning, I head up the narrow steps, the noise leading me to the gym and my new dance studio. Once I've nearly reached the gym, the sound of American country music, specifically Jason Aldean, one of Kayden's favorites, touches my ears. Smiling at the certainty that he's working out, I hurry through the remaining steps to the training area and equipment. The radio is playing from inside my dance studio.

“Holy fuck, Kayden,” I hear Adriel grumble. “Can we listen to something other than country music?”

“You're American. You should appreciate this.”

“I'm not fucking American.”

“You just tried to get transferred there,” Kayden says dryly.

“Because you wouldn't let me hunt.”

“Because you were being a dumb-ass.”

“Yeah, well, I'm over that now,” Adriel states, not even bothering to deny Kayden's claim.

“Because I'm letting you hunt again,” Kayden counters.

“You're letting me hunt again because I'm over it.”

A Blake Shelton song starts to play and I hear Matteo say, “I have one word for you. Headphones.”

“I have three words,” Carlo interjects. “Shut the fuck up.”

“That's four,” Matteo says, laughing. “Good thing you aren't in charge.”

I grin and at this point I'm dying to know what they're doing in there, especially since Kayden never lets anyone into this tower. Stepping to the doorway of the would-be studio, I'm shocked to find the men installing a new floor. Kayden is kneeling by the far wall, nailing a rail down the center. My heart squeezes with the knowledge that he is behind this, but that they are all willingly helping.

“Hi,” I say, and everyone's attention jerks up to me, putting me in the center of a circle of fierce male speculation, and random greetings.

Kayden stands and walks over to me, leaning down to kiss me. “Morning, sweetheart.”

“I can't believe you're doing this.” I glance around. “All of you. Thank you so much.”

Kayden urges me out into the gym area and pulls me to him. “How are you?”

I wrap my arms around him, tilting my chin up. The pale blue T-shirt he's wearing is a perfect match for his eyes. “How can I not be good right now? Thank you.”

He brushes the hair from my eyes. “Anything to make this home for you, Ella.”

My heart squeezes all over again, both from his meaning and the idea that somewhere, someplace, I do have another place that was a home I don't remember. “You are my home, Kayden,” I say, flattening my hand on his chest. “You know that, right?”

“Kayden,” Carlo calls out, and Kayden gives me a weary but amused look, motioning back to the dance room.

“What is it?” Kayden asks, joining the other men and returning to his work location, while I linger in the doorway.

Carlo stands and stretches, chains hanging from the pockets of his black jeans. “A man's wife hid his million-dollar car to pay him back for fucking around on her. Want me to find it?”

“Who's the man?” Adriel asks.

“Aldo Tucia,” he says, and Kayden whistles. “Sweet. Get the man's car back.”

“Who is Aldo Tucia?” I ask.

“One of the Italian soccer greats,” Kayden explains. “Which means our price is top of the scale.”

“I'll add ten percent for speedy service,” Carlo tells Matteo. “That's your cut for finding me a place to start this chase.”

Matteo cuts Kayden a questioning look. “Do it,” Kayden answers. “Go make the money.”

Matteo stands and walks toward me, a dark, wayward curl dropping to his brow, pausing when he reaches my side. “Even Sasha liked you last night,” he declares, heading out of the room and leaving me with a frown at the odd comment.

“Sasha's a bitch,” Adriel supplies, clearly noting the exchange. “But when she likes you, you've earned it.”

“And she likes you,” I point out.

“Bella,” he says dryly. “I earned it. Why do you think she and I weren't around to watch the video?”

I laugh, my cheeks flushing with his obvious meaning. “That was very bad,” I reprimand, and when he chuckles good-naturedly I decide that scar down his cheek and his big, burly body have become a little less intimidating. “I did wonder where you two were.”

Carlo steps between me and Adriel. “I hear you can dance and shoot, and if I piss you off, you'll shoot me.”

I hold up my finger and pretend to shoot. “Because I'm a bitch, too.”

He stares down at me, seconds ticking by, all Italian-stallion intensity before he bursts into laughter, winking at me as he exits. Kayden's eyes meet mine, and the approval in his expression tells me that I'm being tested by his men, and so far, I'm passing.

“I want to help,” I say, but before I can join him and Adriel, a buzzer goes off.

“What's that?”

“Matteo installed security panels in several parts of the tower for you this morning.” Kayden motions for me to join him by the door, where a new mini TV has been mounted. He hits a button and shows me the tower door, where Marabella is now entering. “She has a passcode, but if there's someone else you want to let in, just punch the button on the top right.”

“But you don't like people in the tower.”

“You should be able to choose when you want visitors.”

I glance up at him, knowing this is another effort to make me feel at home, and I push to my toes and kiss him. “Thank you.”

He grabs me and kisses me hard. “Thank me when we're alone.”

“Alone is good,” Adriel says, reminding us he's here.

Kayden and I laugh, then I eye the panel again. “I think I should go check on Marabella. But since you're both here . . . Am I pushing Giada to move out, or what?”

Adriel stands, hands settling on his hips. “Yes, but I want her in the neighborhood, where we can watch over her. Can you teach her to shoot?”

“Ella already suggested that,” Kayden says. “But are you sure you want your sister with a gun?”

I say, “Yes, you do. Because if she feels in control, maybe she'll stop acting out of control.” The two men exchange a long look and then nod at the same time. “Okay, then,” I say. “I'll call her and see if she can do lunch tomorrow. We'll talk and then go to the range.”

“I'll go with you,” Kayden says. “I have a few words I want to have with her.”

It's an encounter I've encouraged, and I tell myself his agreement is not about Niccolo and our public outing but Giada, though it's hard to completely follow that train of thought. Whatever the case, it's a good thing. “I don't have my phone, so I'll call her when I get downstairs.”

Adriel offers me his. “Have at it. The sooner we get her in line, the better, considering Gallo's pursuit. The less she knows, the less she can tell.”

I accept the phone with Giada's auto-dial already pulled up. “I've seen enough of Gallo to know that he's going to pursue her harder, when she's easier to access.”

“And the more we try to keep them apart,” Kayden says, “the more Gallo will want to keep her close.”

“I see,” I say. “So remove the forbidden and it's no longer interesting to Giada.”

“And no longer useful to Gallo,” Kayden says. “Which is why I'm going to give Giada my Gallo blessing at lunch tomorrow.”

Now his attendance at lunch makes sense, and I press the key to dial her number. “I'm headed to the store now,” Giada answers, after two rings.

“It's me, Giada.”

“Ella?” she says. “Why are you on Adriel's phone?”

“He and Kayden are installing a floor for my new dance studio, and I borrowed his phone.”

“Dance studio? What dance studio?”

“It's for my private use here.”

“I didn't know you danced.”

“I'll tell you all about it,” I offer. “How about lunch tomorrow? I want to go to the shooting range, and I thought you might want to learn to handle a gun.”

“You know how to shoot?” she asks incredulously.

“Very well, and carrying a gun is empowering.”

“You carry? Can you even legally do that? Never mind. You're Kayden's woman; you can do what you want. But hell yes, I want to learn to shoot.”

“Great. How about noon tomorrow? We can meet in the store?”

I chitchat with her for a minute and then end the call. “All set.” I hand Adriel's phone back to him, finding his expression grim. “What's wrong?” I ask.

“You're a better sister to her than I am a brother.”

“Blood trumps all,” I say, hating the heartache beneath those words. “I'm just a cool friend who's new, and therefore exciting. I'm going to check on Marabella.” And for reasons I can't explain, I suddenly need to touch Kayden. I reach out and drag my hand down his arm. “I'll be in the kitchen.”

He catches my hand and kisses it. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

My heart does a little flip-flop at the tenderness in his eyes and voice, and I head for the door. “Yes,” Adriel calls after me. “Thank you. Sweetheart.”

I call over my shoulder, “Thank me by being nice to me.”

“I'm always nice.”