Page 140 of When Hearts Awaken

Then I punch in a few numbers and wait for him to answer.

“Fy machgen, finally have time for your uncle?” Ian chuckles.

“Have you seen Taylor?” Unease knots my insides. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds in Ian’s background—any strange breathing or noises, any sign that something is wrong.

“She was at practice just now. I haven’t seen her. Is this why you’re calling me? To find your girlfriend? Here I am thinking you’re finally missing your uncle.”

My nostrils flare. Either he’s innocent or he’s a fucking good liar and with Ian Vaughn it’s fifty-fifty.

Fuck, I wish we could unearth the bastard sooner than later because the little boy inside me really wishes for a miracle that the culprit isn’t the man I’ve looked up to my entire life.

“I see. We should meet up for a drink sometime. I’ve been MIA.” I keep my voice light, not wanting to rouse suspicion. If no one takes the bait we left at the press conference, I’m going to poke around Ian—ask him questions about Hotel Renegade to see if I can make heads or tails of his reactions.

“I’d like that. Glad to see you still remember me outside of yourcariad bach.” I hear commotion in the background and suddenly, he murmurs, “I have to go, son. Talk soon.”

An unsettling silence fills the car as something niggles in the back of my mind. A phantom itch—like it’s trying to tell me I know more than I think I do.

Closing my eyes, I sift through my memories—the damning photo of Uncle Ian at the hotel lounge when he was supposed to be across the world, the violent reaction Taylor had when she first met him, every excruciating detail of her painful recollection of that night, the photo on her phone from an unknown number in Europe.

The itch grows stronger. There’s something here. What am I not seeing? Elias’s investigation into Ian. His connection to The Association. The invitation I received in Paris.

I tap my foot on the floor as the car coasts to a stop. A suffocating heat wraps around my lungs, and I tug my tie loose from my neck as I exit the car.

What am I missing?

I toss the facts around in my head again as I climb up the steps and enter the building, looking for Anthony.

Fly Harriet.

I freeze, the door slamming shut behind me in abang.

It’s odd how she heard that, but she’s sure the monster whispered that phrase to her.

Harriet.

Fly Harriet.

“Glad to see you still remember me outside of your cariad bach.”Ian’s words from the phone call echo in my ears.

Cariad.Welsh term for sweetheart or darling. My Welsh is rusty but I’m pretty damn sure an iteration of “my darling” is“Fy Nghariad,”with the “Fy” and “Ng” sounding almost silent and nasally, leaving“Hariad.”

Fly Harriet.

Fy Nghariad.My Darling.

She’s been hearing Welsh all along.

Fear slams inside me as I hurry up the staircase, needing to find Ian and demand an answer from him. Welsh isn’t a commonly spoken language in the city. This is the piece connecting them together in one room, and I’ll be damned if she works under him a second longer. I flick on the record function on my phone and search for the bastard.

Fury boils my blood as I fly to his office and throw open the door, but he isn’t inside.

Motherfucker, where are you?

Gritting my teeth, I dash down the hallway, spotting Anthony coming out of a room and opening the door of another. I nearly plow into Ainsley, who looks equally bewildered and frantic.

“Ch-Charles! Youhaveto help!” Ainsley tugs on my sleeve, her panicked voice causing me to freeze in my steps.

“Where’s Taylor or Sir Ian?” I growl, not caring I’m probably scaring the shit out of her.