We arrive at the airport, parking in a private hangar, and I’ve never wanted time to talk to Kayden and be with him more. I want every detail about this day’s happenings, as he does from me, but even more, I just want him.
“Time to go take whatever blows Chris Merit has for me,” he says, reaching for the car door.
“This is on me, not you. And I fear that Sara now hates me, which guts me, but how can I blame her?”
He kisses me. “She won’t hate you. I promise. Let’s go prove me right.”
We leave the car and cross the pavement, and we’re at the top of the steps to the plane when he says, “Let me deal with Chris first.”
I nod and he enters, with me following, and sure enough, the two men huddle up, voices deep and a bit rough.
Sara steps into the aisle, her dress torn, her hair and makeup a mess, but the minute we make eye contact, I know I haven’t lost her. She tears up and so do I, and then we’re hugging. “I’m so sorry,” I say, cupping her head.
“Just tell me you killed him.”
“I did.” I lean back and look at her. “I shot him in the groin first. Then I killed him.”
She nods. “Good. You’re so badass! I thought you were—”
“I know, and I’ll explain everything later. Just know this: I’m sorry for the lies, but I love you. I know I’m not what I seem, but I love you. I can explain.”
Chris appears above her shoulder with no anger in his face, just relief. “Thank you for risking your life to save her,” he shocks me by saying, his hands settling on her shoulders.
“I just . . . I know I can’t be around Sara and keep her safe, but don’t shut me out completely. There are ways—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Chris says. “Right now, Kayden needs you as much as I need her.”
“Yes.” Sara and I hug again and I move down the aisle to where Kayden waits. “How bad was it?” I ask as we buckle in.
“He’s a good man,” he says. “And he knows Sara loves you, but he’s worried about her safety.”
“Of course he is.”
Kayden’s phone rings. He takes the call and manages some details on the ground, and by the time he’s done we’re taxiing onto the runway. And then we’re in the air, the ride smooth when the day has been anything but that, and a surreal feeling comes over me.
“It’s done,” I say. “It’s really done.”
“Yes. It is.” He unbuckles his seat belt and goes down on a knee in front of me to unbuckle me as well. “Ella. What you did today was nothing shy of incredible. You are the most amazing person. You’re brave. Passionate. Caring. I am so lucky to have found you. You are a Lady Hawk like no other could ever be.”
“And the same is true of you, my Hawk.”
“I can’t give you complete safety. Today proved that, and you proved you can handle that.”
“I can. I just hate that we can’t trust everyone around us.”
“We’ll find a way to never have another Matteo. Together.”
“I was afraid you’d—”
“Shut you out? I can’t. You’re in my heart and soul, Ella.” He reaches to his seat and produces a velvet box. “Will you marry me?”
I smile. “I already said yes.”
“Not with a ring.” He opens the lid and I gasp at the perfect circle of a pale pink diamond.
“Pink,” I whisper, smiling at him. “Like my ballet slippers?”
“Yes. Because that Hawk on your arm is the warrior in you, and the ballet slippers are the woman. I want you to be both. I want you to feel you can be both with me, and as much as I want to protect you, I vow to let you be both.”
I start crying. “I think this warrior has shut down for the day.”
“She deserves a break,” he says, taking the ring out of the case and slipping it on my finger. And it’s a perfect fit, like the man, The Hawk. My future husband.
Kayden and I talk the entire flight, and it’s early morning when we approach the Rome airport. We’ve just hit the runway when his phone rings, and he quickly pulls up the news on his iPad, playing a video story:
In a scandalous and shocking breaking story, French and British officials are at the home of Garner Neuville, long known to be the head of the French mob. He and two of his highest-ranking members were found dead, along with a man name Alessandro Abate, an Italian national who is known to run a notorious treasure-hunting operation. At the center of the dispute is a necklace worth three hundred million dollars, stolen more than a decade ago from the British government.
“And now,” Kayden says, “it’s over.”
“What about Niccolo?”
“He’ll hyper-focus on trying to take over the French mob until he dies. But Neuville’s fourth won’t let that happen.”
A few minutes later the doors of the plane are open, and Kayden pulls a leather jacket on to cover his shoulder holster and weapon, then reaches into the overhead bin and offers me my purse. “Annie is still intact.”