Chapter Seven
A RUSSIAN HEIRESS.
Niccolò's stalker.
Restraining order.
And that was just the tip of the iceberg. There were so many other crazy things that Anya was guilty of, she could barely wrap her head around it. But most of all—
“She’s thirty-seven? Seriously?”
Niccolò stared at her. “I just told you all the insane stuff that she did, and the first thing that concerns you is her age?"
Right, right.
“I’m sorry. I know I should get my priorities straight, but can I just ask one thing? Do you have any idea what her skincare—”
Okay, she really needed to change the subject with the way her boss was glaring at her.
“So, um, where were we again?”
“Are you sure Anya still hasn’t tried to harm you in any way?”
Well...
The first time, Eric told her that he had gotten the idea about killing Payton for money from Rosé—no, wait, it was Anya—and then the second time, Rosé—no, Anya!—herself was the one who killed Payton, and the third time...
The person who had rammed into Niccolò’s car with suicidal force...
That was definitely Anya.
But since all of those things happened in her previous rebirths—
“No,” Payton said finally. “Not that I know of at least.”
“Unfortunately...” Niccolò’s lips tightened. “I don’t think it will stay that way for long.”
Payton slowly nodded. “I know.”
He checked his watch. And then he looked at her. “It’s getting late. Are you sure you’re okay with being alone here?”
No.
Not at all.
Not when she knew this was her last life ever.
But since she was done being afraid—
“Let’s finish this together, Mr. de Vindice.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, and Payton had to take a deep breath because even now...it still didn’t feel right to let herself think this man was beautiful in any way.
“I still don’t have a chance with you,” he murmured. “Do I?”
Maybe...maybe if she wasn’t down to her last life, she would have answered differently.
But because God was the very reason Niccolò had been reborn...
“I’m married,” she whispered.
And Niccolò...
Instead of arguing with her and reminding her of what an awful husband Eric was...
“I think that’s what made me fall in love with you the first time.”
I don’t want to cry.
“You’re still the loveliest...”
Please.
“Sweetest...”
Someone stop me from crying.
“Idiot I’ve ever met.”
And just like that, she ended up laughing instead.
Because Niccolò...
How did he do it?
How was he so good at knowing...and giving her what she needed?
How was it possible...when she didn’t even have to say a word?
"Do you remember the psych test you had to take when you applied for a job?”
Payton’s brows furrowed. Fairscale had made her take so many tests during the application process that she honestly couldn’t remember—
“Does ‘survival of the fittest’ ring a bell?”
Oh, that one!
“I think I flunked that—”
“Actually...”
Her eyes widened. Was he going to say she had passed that test?
“You had the lowest score.”
Okaaay.
"You could've just said yes, but, um, thanks for being specific?”
“The test was administered to weed out potential stalkers and anyone else who might have a similar psych profile to Anya’s."
Well, maybe having the lowest score wasn’t that bad, after all.
“Do you know what that means, Payton?”
“I’m...a good person?”
“You don’t have what it takes to kill someone.”
“So...a really good person then?”
"Instead, you're most likely the person to get killed first."
Well...
Okay...
“That sucks,” she blurted out.
His lips curved. “Does it?”
“You don’t understand.” She had already died. Thrice! “I—”
“You’re Anya’s opposite.”
“Yes, but—” She also didn’t want to die for the fourth and last time.
“It means you’re the most honorable. And the most selfless.”
Oh.
She finally got what he was saying.
The reason he had fallen in love with her.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
And so she cleared her throat several times until she regained control of her emotions, and she was able to look into his eyes and say...
“You’re...honorable, too.”
“I know.”
A shaken laugh escaped her, but when she saw him lift his hand, she couldn’t help tensing up—
“Take care of yourself, Payton.”
Niccolò ruffled her hair like she was a kid, and then he was stepping out of her suite and closing the door behind him.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
This was how it should be.
Breathe, Payton. Breathe.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she stepped out of her room.
She just needed to go somewhere to distract herself.
And so she took the elevator to the lobby.
Walked around aimlessly without really seeing anything.
She kept walking until her heart had stopped hurting, but just when she was about to take the elevator back to her suite—
There it was.
A gun pointed at her back.
Finally.
“I think it’s time we have a little talk, Mrs. Cheyney.”
Anya had finally made her move.
“R-Rosé? Is that you?”
Payton’s voice was shaking, and it was all part of the plan.
Let me get this straight, Niccolò had said earlier. You want me to stay in your room long enough for Anya to think something happened between us.
Yes.
You think she’s watching us right now.
Yes.
You think it will make her angry enough to make a move.
Yes.
Do you realize how insane that sounds? She’s wanted for murder! Didn’t I tell you that earlier?
You did.
And you still want her angry?
I do.
Why?
Because I don’t want to live the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.
And that was how they had ended up here.
“Move very slowly toward the stairwell,” Anya hissed under her breath.
Dear God, I know You’re real, and I know You have a purpose for all of this.
So...
Whatever it is, I trust You.
But for now...
“W-Why are you doing this?”
Payton was back to pretending she was frightened out of her wits, which—if she had to be perfectly honest—didn’t need much effort on her part.
“Say one more word, and I’ll kill you.”
If it had been anyone but Anya, Payton would have believed the other girl was bluffing. The hotel lobby might not be crowded, but it was far from empty either. But since this was Anya, and Payton knew firsthand the girl was crazy enough to do anything in the name of hurting Niccolò...
Payton turned in the direction of the stairwell.
“Good girl.”
Payton didn’t know if that was deliberate or not, but those words...
First, Eric, and now Anya.
Those two words...
They no longer had any power over her, but instead...
No more!
It gave Payton the boost of courage she needed to turn around in hopes of catching Anya by surprise, and—
Everything after that...
It always happened too, too fast.
“You ugly stupid hag!”
Payton managed to swing the gun down, Anya still managed to fire a shot—
Bang!
Payton looked down. Anya had shot her.
Bang!
Payton looked at Anya. She was shot, too.
Both of them crumpled at the same time, but just as the world started to swim, she saw the undercover agent who had arrested Eric in her first rebirth make a call to 911 even as he ran toward Anya.
I know you’re working with the Feds to capture her, she had told Niccolò earlier. Let them know what’s happening here.
It was too bad she had to get shot, but at least their plan had worked—
Oh!
Niccolò got to her in time, catching Payton in his arms while Anya wasn’t as lucky, with her head making a loud cracking sound against the marble tiles.
Niccolò pressed a shaking hand against her wound to keep it from bleeding. “You...idiot.”
Payton wondered dazedly if her boss needed a refresher’s course on English. He kept saying the word like it was an endearment...except it wasn’t.
“You said you’d keep yourself safe,” he bit out. “Is this what safe looks like to you?”
Payton was about to answer when she saw...
Eric.
She remembered all of his angry texts about using her credit card, remembered how credit card receipts were as good as giving one’s location, and...
No no no.
Eric had seen Anya on the ground. And then he was staring at Niccolò with so much hatred that she had a feeling...
Did Eric know who Rosé really was from the start?
Eric was running toward them.
But just like how Anya was obsessed with Niccolò, had her husband been so obsessed with the other girl that...
Nooooo!
Eric...
He had a gun.
Was it from Anya? Probably. But there wasn’t really any time to wonder why because the moment she realized Eric had his gun pointed at Niccolò...
That was the moment it finally became clear.
I get it now.
All the times Payton was reborn...
And it’s okay.
It wasn’t to save herself.
I trust You.
But him.
But I’ll need Your help to make this work.
And she had barely finished praying when a burst of adrenaline pushed Payton to clutch Niccolò’s shirt, using it to pull herself up—
Everything was happening too, too fast again.
And then she was reversing their positions—
Bang!
So that Eric would end up shooting her, not Niccolò.
The pain was familiar.
And as her eyes drifted closed...
There was no darkness this time.
But just the most comfortable, blinding streak of light.
I’m ready to go home, God.