CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SYLVIE
My years as a gymnast taught me to bend—in the physical sense, of course, but also in the means of adapting. I learned to curl around obstacles, to sacrifice but give my all, to stand with others while landing on my own two feet.
It was a strength I was proud of, but somewhere along the line—between my guilt for having a body that could accomplish great feats when Flora’s was so often failing her, my longing to be someone my mother could depend on, and my desperation to balance my determination with the grief from the absence of my father—that strength became an armor, waiting to seal itself shut.
I think I’ve probably been adding reinforcements to it every year since my father went to prison. And with each tragedy, hiccup, or betrayal I encountered, I allowed that shield to increase in its rigidity and separate me from others. Until I was all alone, cloaked in an empty shell.
Independence is the word I would have chosen to defend it, and belonging to someone would have felt like a slight toward that.
Until Cash.
I’ve had several romantic relationships—most casual, some committed, one serious.
In all of them, there was an understood space, a distance we accepted, though I’m not sure I was conscious of it at the time.
But this man refuses to let me retreat, and as bizarre as I would have thought it was months ago, I’ve never felt more grounded than I do when he insists that he owns me. Or that I own him too.
It’s like the armor is still there, but he’s stepped inside it with me. And it isn’t crowded; it’s cushioned.
A text from Flora pops up, and I find myself grateful for the added comfort he provided in his domineering manner earlier.
Flora: Please don’t shut me out again, Sylvie.
It was two years ago, right after I fucked everything up with you.
I went to visit Colin, hoping maybe he and I could work things out and get back together.
He agreed to meet me, but never showed up.
I only talked to Cash for a few minutes.
He said he was the owner, so I didn’t want to be rude.
I know this hits a nerve, but it was nothing. I am so happy for you.
This isn’t something I can hold against either of them.
I’m aware. Cash made a valid point when he said he didn’t chase her.
And it was me he fucked into submission in his closet and painted with his cum.
It’s me he’s been spoiling and confiding in.
It’s me he brought home to his family. So, I’m not sure why I’d get hung up on something that happened long ago.
The knowledge that Danny is going to be here soon probably isn’t helping my mental state.
Flora’s right. It struck a nerve. That’s all.
Still, I don’t respond because Axel and I are breezing through the bootlegger tunnels.
The mostly brick corridors, aglow by antique sconces, transport us to other parts of the resort and back to the 1920s.
The Prohibition era reigns right here in NOLA, the faint whisper of swing music crooning beyond the walls.
I’m freshly showered—thanks to Cash’s possessiveness—and dressed in a royal-blue halter top and white linen pants. I have everything I need for our first training in my bag. But I was late, so Axel waited to escort me to his La Lune Noire office.
“Yes.” He side-eyes me while he responds to whoever he’s talking to on his phone, probably gauging my anxiety level because I’ll be contacting E in a few minutes. “I’ll see if I can obtain it, but I expect a fleshed-out plan by this evening.”
He ends the call and smiles as we take a turn and enter through a door that requires his iris scan.
This place is impressive. They have a variety of biometric security and codes on a maze of corridors that all look the same; it would be challenging for even a highly skilled thief to thwart.
I could do it. But it would take a lot of recon.
“You’re memorizing the route and necessary security measures,” he accuses.
“Not exactly.” I laugh. “I noticed, but I don’t have a need to store this information in my brain, do I?”
“For escape purposes? No. We’re in this with you.
But habits are hard to break.” His eyes crinkle, and the silver dusting in his brown hair glints with wisdom, his Papa Axe hat more firmly in place than the king of underworld crown he often dons.
“Zara did the same when she arrived. Memorizing the paths could be useful if you want to get around on your own. The bracelet Cash insists you wear will provide access through most passageways.”
“Oh.” I glance at the piece of jewelry that’s practically become a part of my body, realizing the only reason Cash hasn’t encouraged me to use it to move around the resort freely is because even that unnerves him. “If he isn’t escorting me around, he makes sure one of you are.”
“With everything going on, that’s wise.” He slants his head, as if to affirm that they’re truly inviting me into their world before he expounds. “Cash is only protective over things he can’t live without. I suppose that’s how we all are. Nothing is more important than family.”
He punches in a code and ushers me into his office. “We’ll track down the rest of the crew after this. Whenever you’re ready.”
Like everything else in the La Lune Noire owners’ world, the space is grand with a different city view. And yet still there’s warmth here, supporting his statement about family.
I’m too anxious to sit, so while Axel perches at his desk to multitask work, I find an area between the kitchen and windows to pace. Ever since I discovered that E is responsible for my father’s death, I’ve been filled with contradictory emotions. The thought of hearing his voice is daunting.
I’m grateful Axel is here. He should be able to guide me if I get myself into any trouble, but I don’t relay my nerves despite my cognizance that he probably sees them.
“Ready,” I tell him before I dial from my burner.
The line rings a few extra times, but then E answers. “It’s about time. What is going on with you?”
“Hey. I’m sorry my communication has been sporadic.
” My voice quavers from the adrenaline pumping through my veins, so I offer a reason in case he’s picking up on that distress.
“I haven’t filled you in on everything because I was kind of freaking out, and I didn’t want you to …
I don’t know … worry. But you asked if anyone could be watching me or know what I’m doing, and I think maybe someone is. ”
“Why?” He sounds suspicious, and I’m not sure what to make of it. He’s either trying to detect a lie or concerned about someone sabotaging him. “You said the last job was smooth.”
“It was,” I reply easily, not willing to reveal that we had an issue there. “I have what we need, like I texted. But I got a note.”
“A note?” he questions. “At the job?”
When you only know a person based on a nontechnical audio profile, it’s challenging to catalog their tells. But I’m guessing he’s playing dumb right now, though his tone is as sleek and polished as marble.
“No. It was left at my apartment, so someone must have been following me. It was anonymous, of course, warning me that I hadn’t covered my tracks well enough and to get rid of him. I’m not sure who him was referring to.”
He hums in deliberation. “When was this?”
“A few weeks ago.”
He scoffs. “And I’m only hearing about it now? I asked you—”
“I know,” I grit out, rage tensing my muscles at the audacity of this asshole. “And if I’d told you, you would’ve pulled me from the job, and we would be one short.”
Something about that calms him. He releases a heavy breath. “Anything since?”
“No. But I was scared. I had to leave my apartment to be on the safe side.” I glance at Axel, and he dips his chin for me to keep going. “I’ve been dating someone, so I’m staying with him.”
“Does he know why you’d be getting a note?” E barks.
“Of course not,” I snap, refusing to tolerate his tone. “He thinks it’s from my ex.”
“I guess it would work for that too.” He pauses, and more of the tension he conveyed when I spoke to him in Boston bleeds through the phone. “Let me see what chatter I can find. We need to review plans. You’ve only got two weeks.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I have a new plan—a better one. The man I’m dating is a Noire, and they’re invited. I think I can get in legitimately with them.”
“A Noire?” he muses. “Which one?”
“Cash.”
He grumbles under his breath. “That guy has a fucking reputation for having a different lady morning, noon, and night. Tell me you aren’t deluding yourself—”
“It’s going well. Please don’t ruin this.” I inject every ounce of feigned imploration into my tenor that he’d expect from his mentee. “I am doing everything you need me to do, and you know I’ve had a shit couple of years.”
Either he’s a phenomenal actor or the guilt threading his reply is authentic. “I’m just looking out for you. Does he know you’re on assignment?”
“He doesn’t ask those kinds of questions.” I push out a chuckle, as if that’s absurd. “We’re having fun, and while he is definitely only with me, he doesn’t take much seriously.”
“That tracks.” He huffs, but he’s more relaxed with that answer. “Fine. That’s a decent approach. Any idea which Noires will be going?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Well, it’s … uncharacteristic.” He hesitates, but reveals the level of information he has on them. “They’ve never attended. They never go anywhere, so … why now?”
“Yeah, I gathered that from some things they’ve said.
” I pace toward Axel, pivoting near his bar with the insider tip we decided to extend.
“They have a couple of hotels not far from there that will be launching in a few months, so I think the plan is for a few of them to come and tag-team a visit to the operations.”
“Will you be in and out then?” he clips, irritated again.