Page 64 of When Hearts Awaken

Pulling out my phone, I dial a number—one I swear I wouldn’t use, but dammit, I’m becoming another cliché.

“Charles. Well, this is unusual,” Elias Kent’s low voice drawls on the line. I hear the familiar clicking of the ornate lighter he carries with him everywhere, even though he doesn’t smoke.

I exhale a frustrated breath. “I need your services.”

The clicking sounds stop, followed by a few seconds of silence. I stand in the middle of the main hall, impatient for his response.

He laughs.

The fucking bastard is laughing so hard, if anyone were to tell me this sound came from the infamous mobster, the king of the underground, I would’ve told them they were nuts.

“First Steven, then Ryland, then Maxwell, and now you.” His laughter fades into low chuckles. “You billionaires sure have a lot of problems.”

“Shut up. You’re probably richer than all of us combined—we just don’t know because you hide everything in the shadows.”

The clicking resumes. “So, let me guess. This has to do with a woman? A certain ballerina?”

I frown.Am I that obvious to everyone?“You don’t need to know the why. I just need you to find out if Ian ever left Europe a few years ago.”

“Why can’t you ask him yourself?”

“It’s complicated. And,” I swallow as dread slithers around my rib cage, “I don’t know if I can trust his answer. Will you do this for me? This should be a cakewalk for you.”

“You know my price, right?”

“A favor for a favor, yes.” I feel like I’m signing my life away. A blank check written to Elias Kent can be dangerous—we never know when or what he’ll want us to do when he cashes it.

But he’s useful, smart, brains behind the villainy. Nothing gets past him, and he has helped my friends in the past, getting them out of sticky situations and, in Maxwell’s case, even in life and death situations.

They trust him, and that’s good enough for me.

“Send me the dates you’re interested in, and I’ll be in touch. Iamcurious why you’re asking.”

“And I won’t tell you.” I know Taylor wouldn’t want me to tell people what I suspected happened to her. “Call me when you have something.”

My thumb hovers over the end call button, but I quickly add, “Thank you, Elias. Favor or not, thank you.”

A heavy silence fills the line.

He clears his throat and murmurs, “I’ll be in touch.”

Ending the call, I jog up the main staircase and head straight to the VIP lounge, where I’m met with quiet conversations from the back room again.

Quickly, I make my way toward the hidden room, shrugging out of my jacket and tossing it on a velvet chair along the way. The tie follows, then the cuff links. I roll up my sleeves and knock on the door.

Two pairs of eyes greet me—Ainsley and a brunette I vaguely remember from Steven’s wedding.

“Charles?” Ainsley sits straighter and looks at her friend. “Do you have a meeting with Sir Ian? Or Taylor? Taylor’s out sick and isn’t here today.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not here for them. I’m actually here for you guys.”

The girls frown, looking confused.

I explain, “Taylor told me you had a showcase coming up and are behind on finishing the set designs. Thought I’d lend a hand.” Smiling, I motion to the half-completed boards lining up the walls and the floor.

Ainsley beams at me. She gestures to her friend. “This is Maddy. She’s another trainee in the program.” I vaguely remember them talking about her absence the last time I was here. “And we definitely need your help. The showcase is next weekend and we’re way behind.”

“Why isn’t anyone helping you?” I squat down and pick up a paintbrush and start working on a landscape painting—the drawing is already rendered and the colors half done, so it’s easy for me to follow the pattern.

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