he denies it is misery to him.”
“What about me? What about how I feel?”
“Not everything is about you. We all lose people. We all hurt. And we’re all in danger when you act like you did last night. Grow up, Giada. And show some appreciation for Kayden, who lets you live here, and set up a fortune in a trust for you. And show some appreciation for your brother, who’s miserable running a damn store, when he wants to hunt.”
“You don’t know him.”
“Apparently, I know him better than you, because the hunt is in that man’s eyes. Let him be happy. You have a fortune in a trust fund. You can do anything. Be anything. Go anywhere.”
“I’m not leaving here. I’m not leaving my brother.”
“Then you have changes to make, and some real convincing to do,” I say. “Think about it.” I turn away and enter the store, taking broad, adrenaline-laden steps, when I stop dead in my tracks at the realization that Adriel is standing there in front of me, his legs planted in a V, his arms folded over his chest.
I hold my breath, not sure what he overheard, or how he’s going to react. But as we stare at each other, there is less ice than before, and after several moments, he nods in appreciation.
I give him a nod in return. “I was going to have lunch with Giada, but I thought it best we stay in. Do Italians have pizza delivery?”
His lips quirk, his mood remarkably, palpably, lighter. “This isn’t ancient Rome. Of course we have pizza delivery.”
“I was hoping to hang out here. My tower is rather quiet and . . . empty.”
“I know the definition of the word quite well,” he surprises me by saying, lifting one hand toward an archway leading to a part of the store I’ve never visited. “You’ll find a full living room and kitchen there.”
“Thank you.” I start to walk away and pause. “I mentioned to Kayden that I’d like to help out here in the store.”
“And he said what?”
“He wasn’t receptive at the time,” I admit.
His lips quirk. “Let me guess. You plan to change his mind.”
“Not change his mind. Just . . . talk.”
“You talk quite effectively,” he comments dryly. “Let me know when you’re ready for the keys.”
“So . . . you’re okay with it?”
“I hate this fucking store.”
“Good,” I say, glancing around the store, surprised at how excited I am about where this is headed. “Because I think I could kind of love it, and I have a feeling you’ll be less of an asshole if I’m running it instead of you.”
“You think I’m an asshole, do you?”
“You think you’re an asshole,” I counter.
“Only when I have to be.”
“You never have to be with me.”
“Disproven by rethinking last night’s events.”
“Last night sideswiped me. It won’t happen again.”
He studies me a moment, and slowly, approval lights his eyes. It’s the first time I’ve seen anything light his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“You won’t have to,” I assure him.
“You hate the store?” Giada asks, and I don’t wait for Adriel’s reply, which comes in Italian anyway.
I head toward the archway, glancing at the various displays in glass cases, eager to start exploring them all. Crossing under the giant arch and turning right, I discover a cozy living area with a white stone fireplace in the corner, a brown leather sofa, two oversized matching chairs, and a flat-screen television mounted on the wall. Farther right I find an open-concept kitchen with a gorgeous gray stone island, but my joy at the coziness is doused as I wonder if this was the part of the castle Kayden shared with Elizabeth before she was murdered. If that’s the case, I am not bringing up the store to him again.
I return to the living room.
“Ella.”
At the sound of Nathan’s voice, I turn to find him standing by the couch, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, his normally clean-shaven jaw shadowed. “My patient transferred to another hospital, so I came by on the way to meet them there.” He motions to the couch. “You want to sit?”
I nod and join him on the couch, angling to face him. “You look tired.”
“It was a hell of a night, and I got called into surgery this morning.”
“What day of the week is it?” I ask. “I really don’t know.”
“Saturday. And welcome to my world, where I barely know if it’s morning or night.”
“We don’t have to do this today.”
“I’m here, and I