Chapter 59 Kitty #2
“It’s called I Told—” Yseult broke off. “Custanzu?”
“Cristu.”
Whipping my head around to face him, I demanded, “Is that it?”
His hands were shaking. I hadn’t seen them shake when he’d held a knife/gun and there hadn’t been a minute’s hesitation or a quiver in his voice when he’d tortured Dante.
I peeped over his shoulder and immediately grimaced. “My god, they’re awful!”
He released a bark of laughter. “They are! But they’re ours!”
“You’re sure?” Yseult inquired.
His thumb stroked over one of the gaudy quail-egg rubies with as much reverence as he used while stroking my clit.
Unsure if I was offended or complimented considering the value of this beast, I nudged him with my elbow. “Stan?”
No answer.
“Baby?”
I twisted to stare up at him and caught his expression at a different angle.
The hope etched into those hard lines… Fuck.
My heart clenched, squeezing and racing at the same time.
I’d never seen that expression on him before and, crazy as it might have seemed, I knew that was how he’d look when I gave him our first child.
Boy or girl. It wouldn’t matter to him. He’d just see the future in his arms and that was what’d count the most.
Gently squeezing his arm, I nodded at Yseult and began clearing up the other boxes, storing them in the cases so the security guards would be able to retrieve them.
A part of me thought he’d fuck me silly once the Valentinis had their rubies back in-house, but if anything, there was a veneration to his stillness that I hadn’t anticipated.
“I think we’ve lost him to the ugliness.”
My lips twitched at Yseult’s commentary. “Agreed. Either that or he doesn’t want to help with cleanup.”
“Typical man.”
For the first time, she approached the briefcases with an intent to touch and it had me asking, “You hate them, don’t you?”
Our eyes clashed. “If you had a legacy like mine, you would too.”
“How did your family even get this stuff?”
“Thievery. Corruption. The usual. Clark!”
Her security took that as an invitation to stride into the room. Even then, Stan was lost to the fiery glitter of the Anjou rubies.
When all the boxes were packed away and the cases were cuffed to the appropriate wrists, I guided Yseult out of my apartment.
“Don’t be offended. Our family—” The words tripped from my lips without prompt. They tumbled so easily that I paused. Pondered that ease. That slickness. And I carried straight on: “—has been waiting decades to be reunited with them.”
“See what I mean? Thievery.” She strode down the stairs with all the panache of a woman wearing flats, not crazy high stiletto heels. Upon reaching the front door, she twisted around to shake my hand. “I heard you were kidnapped because of his enemies. Is that true?”
“Are you going to report on it?” I queried, voice wary. “I’ve read I Told You So. I know your style.”
“No.”
Only God knew why, but I believed that succinct answer.
“Yes, then.”
Her lips twisted. “How do you get past that?”
“You don’t.”
“You haven’t forgiven him?”
“I haven’t forgotten. I accepted that my love for him is more important to me than the danger of being his woman.
” I pressed a hand to his mark, one that my shirt covered.
“My brother died when he was a kid. Tomorrow isn’t promised.
You have to take what you get and roll with it.
I could have died too. But I lived. And I want to share that life with the crazy ass upstairs. ”
Yseult sucked in a breath. “Wise words. Crazy ass aside.”
“Just keeping it real.” I studied that calm expression of hers. It was so still. Like a lake. But underneath, oooh boy, I could see the roiling undercurrents. “If you ever want a coffee or… I don’t know, feel like doing something normal, hit me up.”
She blinked. “Why would you want to hang out with me?”
“Because I like people with hidden depths. Anyway, I better go before he turns catatonic.”
“Kitty?” She hesitated. “Can I have your number?”
I reeled it off with a smile and nodded as she dislodged herself from the front stoop. Closing the door behind her, I trucked upstairs. Only to find Stan staring at those goddamn rubies.
For all the attention he’d given her, Yseult probably looked like she’d disappeared by the time he took note of her absence.
“She left,” I said dryly from the armchair where I’d been watching him watch the necklace.
“Oh.” He blinked. “Thank you for dealing with her.”
“Of course.”
In a daze, he snagged his phone, lifted the box to his face, and the sound of a ringtone echoed around my living room.
Silence was his greeting. But he didn’t need much else.
If I’d expected exuberant professions of delight, I didn’t get them.
His siblings—at least, I assumed that was who he’d called—were silent too.
Until, eventually, Luc rasped, “We’ll meet at Matri’s in an hour.”
“One hour,” Stan echoed, lowering the box from head height then ending the video call.
When he faced me, I wasn’t sure what I expected. For him to tell me he’d be back later? Maybe. This was a momentous occasion. Their sober reactions said as much.
But of course, this was Stan.
“Ready to go, duci?”