“Oh, Annie,” I say, opening the purse to stroke my gun. “How I missed you.”
He laughs and so do I as we head up front to chat with Chris and Sara, who seem much more relaxed now. We exit the plane before them for safety reasons, heading down the stairs inside a private hangar.
Sasha is waiting on us at the bottom of the steps and she wastes no time throwing her arms around me. “You did it. You brave bitch, you! Damn, you scared me.” She fights tears, and my chest tightens because I know what Neuville put her through. I know what I put her through with that phone call.
Seconds tick by and she gives me a nod, the emotion scrubbed from her face moments later. “I’m going to play shotgun to the driver escorting Sara to the castle.” She glances over my shoulder as Sara and Chris exit, whistling, and proving she’s officially pushed aside Neuville, at least for now, as she adds, “And apparently her really hot husband. Holy hell, she has good taste. I like her already.” She hands Kayden the keys to one of the F-TYPEs. “Sweet ride, boss,” she says, motioning to the ice-blue Jag waiting a short distance away.
Kayden and I laugh, and then get Chris and Sara introduced to Sasha and into the car. We follow them, and they’ve just entered the gates of the castle, with us about to as well, eager to lock up the necklace, when a limo pulls up right next to us.
“Niccolo,” Kayden says, shutting the gate with us and him on the outside, and placing the car in park. “At least we’ll get this over with right away.” He glances over at me. “Ready?”
I nod and we both open our doors, finding him standing only a few feet from us. “You lost the necklace?” he snaps. “How did you lose the necklace?”
“We didn’t know what happened until we landed here,” Kayden says. “We watched it on the news.”
“That necklace was worth three hundred million dollars,” he bites out. “How does a Hawk and his Lady Hawk lose it?”
“Your brother’s dead,” I say. “There’s your prize.”
Kayden adds, “And maybe you’ll even live to enjoy his death. You do have that new cancer therapy.”
Niccolo locks eyes with Kayden. “I am going to live, Hawk. There will be many more years for you to hate me. You’d be advised not to forget that.” He walks away, pausing at the door of his limo to add, “And I hear his fourth is now in charge.” His lips quirk and he climbs into the vehicle.
“Why did that make him smile?” I ask.
“Never let the enemy see you blink,” Kayden says. “And make no mistake, we’re still the enemy. Win at all costs or die forgotten.”
It’s the saying that connects to the tattoo on his arm, the same one etched into the War Room table, and I know now why it’s so familiar. Kayden is a warrior, as was my father. As am I now, and perhaps have been every moment of my life, even before I understood that was who, and what, I am. And warriors always win at all costs or die forgotten.
“What about The Jackals?” I ask, my mind looking for any loose ends. “Any bumps there?”
“Disbandment is effectively underway,” he confirms. “In three months that organization will be gone and forgotten.”
He motions to the car and we climb back in, and it’s not long afterward that Chris and Sara are tucked away in our spare bedroom. After we watch their door shut, Kayden motions toward ours. “Now we lock away the necklace.”
He leads me into the bedroom closet, where he pushes aside his clothes and presses a button. The wall moves, and a door opens.
“It’s like in the movies,” I say.
“Better than the movies, because it’s ours.”
He flips on a light and we walk down a long set of winding stairs that ends in a huge stone room lined with wine bottles in racks. “A wine cellar?” I ask.
“By design.” He hits another button, and one of the wine racks lowers into the floor and a safe emerges in its place. “Each wine case has a safe. That way if someone finds one, they won’t find them all. Or so we hope.” He presses his finger to the steel door and it opens. He then removes a velvet box and sets the necklace inside it. We both stare down at the butterfly.
“It’s really gorgeous, isn’t it?” I ask. “But three hundred million dollars? That’s insanity.”
“It creates insanity.” He closes the box and places it in the safe, sealing it away along with a chapter of our lives. The safe is then lowered and the wine rack returned to its prior position. “Now, it’s really done.”
He steps to me, his hands framing my face. “But we’re just beginning, and I plan to live every day with you like we’re dying. And to kiss you like I will never kiss you again.”
And so he does. He kisses me, and it feels like a kiss from a dying man. A kiss to last forever, whatever our forever may be.
Dear Readers: