Chapter Thirty-One
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Ily
I WOKE TO MY PHONE screeching.
Sitting up, I fumbled for it on the couch where I’d passed out in the Chauhan home.
We’d talked until dawn.
They’d gone to bed holding hands and insisted I stay.
I’d called my parents so they wouldn’t worry and texted Krish that I was okay.
So who…
Blinking at the caller I.D, not recognising the number, I wondered if it was my brother.
The fact that I could come and go without him fretting revealed just how much he didn’t need me anymore.
Most of my life I’d been the only one who could calm him, soothe him.
Now, Tiger had replaced me.
“Hello?” I scrubbed my eyes, brushing away salt residue from all my tears. I ached worse than I had when I’d woken from the dead. All that grief inside me had poured out and made space for yet more to well.
But it’d been healing too.
To talk about him.
To tell his parents just how selfless their son had been. How he’d protected not just me but all the jewels. How he’d become their rock, their leader, their hope.
“Ily?”
I almost dropped my phone.
That voice.
My heart lurched with hope. “Henri?”
“No, it’s me. Q.”
All my hope popped. I heard it now. The French accent where Henri’s was English. But the baritone. The gruffness.
For a split second, I’d been in ecstasy.
Bracing against the cushions, I drowned beneath worry. Paavak’s parents, Arun and Saanvi, had turned on a side light by the old brick fireplace. The logs in the hearth had turned to charcoal, leaving the room chilly as the sun rose.
“What is it?” I rushed. “Is Henri okay? Did you find him?”
I rubbed my heart.
The beat felt stable, strong. I’d felt no kick or skip.
He has to be alive.
He has to be…
“You need to come with me. Right now.”
All sleep and grief vanished. “How? Where?”
“You’re in Leeds? I’ve tracked your phone. Franco is on his way to you.”
I stood and almost bashed into the coffee table. “What’s happened? You’re scaring me.”
“My brother has earned quite a murderous reputation for himself. He’s pissed off a lot of people. I’ve just intercepted an email between a few bastards that says they’re meeting today to kill him. They’ll be far more than he’s expecting.”
“ What ?” Grabbing my puffer jacket off the couch’s arm, I raced to the door. “Where is he? I’ll drive there right now.”
“He’s in Tuscany. Franco will take you to the airport. I’ve already sent the plane. I’m on my way. We’ll meet there.”
“Is he…is he okay?” Shrugging into my jacket, I dashed to the car. “I’ll drive myself. Tell me what airport. I’m leaving now.”
“Fine.” He exhaled. “And yes, as far as I’m aware. But he’s definitely been busy.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s taken out thirty-four on my list.”
I jerked to stop. “He’s killed thirty-four traffickers?”
“Not over the phone. I’ll see you in Tuscany. I’d rather not involve you, but he won’t believe me if I tell him you’re alive without proof. He’ll think I’m lying and will probably kill himself rather than believe me.”
“Sounds like something he would do.”
“Then get here quick. We’re running out of time.”