Somehow he’s hit on exactly my feelings when I’d called Neuville that night at the chocolate shop. “That’s not an excuse for not seeing him for the criminal he was right away. I might not know if I was CIA or not, but I know I’ve had the training and experience to see through that man.”
“He’s the head of the French mob for a reason,” he says, his hands settling on my waist. “He’s a master manipulator.”
“Don’t make excuses for me, Kayden,” I say, my fingers balling around his shirt. “Excuses equal weakness, and you can’t have a weak woman by your side, any more than I want to be one.”
He turns us, settling me against the desk, his hands on the desk on either side of me, mine beside his, while his big body frames mine but does not touch it. “I didn’t give you an excuse, Ella,” he says, his voice strong, almost hard. “I gave you a reason, a way to understand your actions and decisions, because you can’t control what you don’t understand. You are human—and if you forget that, it becomes a weakness. Know yourself. Know what can or cannot get to you, because your enemy always will.”
Those words trigger a whisper of my father’s voice in my head: Know yourself better than anyone else knows you. Know your adversaries more than they know themselves. That was exactly why I’d taken on the fa?ade of a schoolteacher. To know me more than others knew me. But who were those others, and why did that matter? And why is my declaration to Niccolo, that my past has nothing to do with the necklace, feeling less and less right?
four
Ella.”
I blink at the sound of Kayden’s voice and come back to the present, with me still leaning on the desk, him in front of me, his hands bracketing my body. “Where are you in your head right now?” he gently prods.
“Thinking about control,” I say. “Everything is about control. I was trying to get it when I lost it completely.”
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” I say, hyperaware of my hands touching his on the desk behind me, “and that’s the problem. But I am certain of this: my mind shows me things in seemingly random ways that always prove not to be random at all. I told Niccolo the past has nothing to do with the necklace, yet I keep seeing the past weave its way into the present. My father keeps coming back to me.”
“He formed much of who and what you are.”
“Yes,” I agree. “And it could be that, but I’m not sure anymore. When I told Niccolo my past had nothing to do with the necklace, something felt off. And almost immediately when I got in the car with you and Adriel, I flashed back to something that happened at my old home in the States.”
“What happened?”
“Two men visited me and I know they were CIA, but I know it somehow connected to my dad’s death. I kept my gun close. What the hell does that even mean? Are they bad? Am I? Oh, God—what if I’m working for Niccolo?”
He cups my face. “You are not working for Niccolo.”
“You can’t know that. We can’t know that.”
“You remember when you are connected to things.” His hands move to my waist. “Do you feel connected to him?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then you are not working for him. And we know you weren’t working for Neuville.”
“Why did I remember that day now?”
“You just found out your father was CIA this very evening. A high-level CIA operative who was murdered. Of course your mind is going there, but don’t read into it. The possible reasons for that encounter are many.”
“But it was important. That meeting is why I created the fa?ade of being a schoolteacher. I needed to convince them that I wasn’t a problem.”
“?‘Them’ who?”
“I don’t know. The CIA, I think. Or maybe they were helping me hide. I hate this not knowing, so much! But more so, the idea that I was hiding from something that could have brought attention to Sara really worries me.”
“You would never put someone in danger, especially someone you care about.”
“I can’t risk her or anyone else. We can’t risk a mobster getting that necklace.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I need to go to Paris.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“I have to go, Kayden. If conversation triggers memories, then seeing where I was will remind me—”
“No. And in case you didn’t get that—no.”
“You don’t get to make this decision.” I try to escape the cage of his body and the desk, only to have his hands come down on either side of me once more. “I’m serious, Kayden. You aren’t—”
“Neuville is hunting you.”
“And I have Evil Eye to protect me.”
“To avenge your death,” he says, “which isn’t going to happen because I won’t let it.”
“The threat of Evil Eye—”
“Won’t bring you back once you’re gone, and I do not plan on losing you.”
“I thought you said it protected me.”
“Never assume absolute protection, or you’ll let your guard down. I know you know that. Especially with people who are emotionally involved, like Neuville.”
“Emotionally involved?”
“No matter what he feels for you, you sliced his pride. You escaped. You beat him. Men like him don’t like to be beat.”