Page 26 of Knot in My Wildest Dreams: Part 2
“We’ll go,” Nikolai said finally, his voice low. “But not forever. When this is over, we’ll be back.”
Emotion swelled in my chest as I gave them a faint smile. “That’s all I ask. Thank you, for everything. Stay safe until then.”
As I turned to leave, Nikolai’s voice followed me, steady and sure. “You’re not alone, Celeste. No matter what your uncle throws at you, remember that.”
I carried those words with me back across the courtyard, trying to hold onto any strength I could against the storm I knew was coming.
Chapter 26
Liam
My body was finally in some relief now that Celeste had forgiven us, even a little. We’d gathered some evidence from her uncle’s study, but we didn’t know if the mission was a success until we found what we were looking for.
We’d been searching through the files all day, trying to find anything incriminating. The closest thing we had was several videos of people doing things clearly illegal, which we suspected was just blackmail for Gideon to hold over people’s heads. I decided to take a break and get some food. I’d sent over some files for Dante to look through - he’d kept Elijah occupied, doing his part. But when he called me in private, he didn’t sound convinced.
“Is there anything, anything at all that links Elijah to this?” He’d asked in a hushed voice.
“Honestly, we can’t find much at all that even links Gideon to this.” I said, running a hand through my hair. “But from what Sterling said, Elijah came over on certain dates when Celeste was living with us. I checked our schedule - Elijah wasn’t around at those times.” It was true - although we had no concrete evidence, everything Sterling said was matching up.
“How is Celeste?” Dante asked, and though his voice didn’t show it, I could feel his bond, miles away, in a soul-aching pain from being sent away by his scent match.
“She’s better. We have to try harder to fix this. And Dante, it’s not looking good for Elijah. Please, be careful around him.” I warned.
Dante sighed, the exhaustion evident this time. “I will. You keep her safe.” He replied.
“Always. Keep a low profile and we will update you soon.” I said, and hung up. My nerves still buzzed from the tension of our mission, but I forced myself out the door and into the car, telling myself that something as simple as a warm meal might make us all feel a little more human again.
By the time I made it back from the restaurant, the sun was low in the sky. The bags on my passenger seat smelled like comfort - garlic bread, rich pasta, and something sweet enough to make even the worst day a little better.
Pack Valence’s guards nodded me through, although they frowned. A little reminder that although we were tolerated, we weren’t quite welcome - not yet, anyway. I pulled up out back at the guest house, coming in right as the sun set.
Sterling and Vigo were still working on finding proof from their visit to Gideon’s office. Inside, the air was warm and carried the faint scent of Celeste’s perfume. She was at the kitchen counter, hair falling in loose waves, scrolling through her phone. She bit her lip nervously. “Still no sign of me in the news. At least my uncle and Elijah haven’t decided to release the documents on their own.”
Her eyes flicked up at me, cool at first, then warmer when she saw the food.
“You’re back,” she said.
“I am,” I answered, lifting the bag slightly. “And I come bearing peace offerings.”
Her brows rose. “What type?”
I moved to set the bags on the counter. “Pasta, garlic bread, and…” I pulled out the white cardboard box with a little flourish, “…tiramisu.”
Her eyes widened just enough to tell me I’d hit the right target.
“That’s my favorite,” she said quietly, like she didn’t want to admit it.
“I know,” I replied, meeting her gaze. “I pay attention.”
Her lips parted, but whatever she was going to say got lost in the moment. I took out the containers, letting the scent of butter and sugar fill the kitchen. She stepped closer, and I heard the guys come in the kitchen, the smell of fresh food drawing them in.
I handed her a fork and slid the tiramisu toward her. “Go on.”
She hesitated for a second, then took a bite. I watched as her eyes fluttered shut, the smallest hum of approval slipping past her lips. It made my chest tighten.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a softness there. “It’s so good,” she murmured.
“You deserve good,” I said before I could think better of it.
