Page 47 of The Caress

"Oh, I’m going to ask her. I’m going to get the truth one way or another."

"You know she won’t admit to it. She’ll lie and try to turn it around on you." He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. "Or she’ll just blame it all on me. She’ll never take responsibility for the things she’s done to either of us over the years. You might as well save your breath. Just make sure that you’re really, truly alone if you’re going to say something you don’t want people to hear."

I don’t usually find myself at a loss for words, but James has accomplished that feat. "Thanks for the heads-up, I guess," I manage, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of me. "I’ll hold onto that information for now."

Only for now, though.

When the time is right, I’m going to confront our mother about what she knows and what she’s done.

And God help her if she’s the one who has been trying to hurt Ella.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

ELLA

The Maltese sun is beating down on us as we sit down outside at a cafe for lunch. "I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen out in public," I say, shielding my eyes from the sunlight as I look over at Keir. "Your family won’t be pleased if anyone sees us."

"They can go to hell," he says with a shrug. "I don’t care what my family thinks right now."

I don’t try to hide my surprise. "Since when? What about upholding the family name and all that stuff?"

I’m not sure what’s caused his sudden change of heart, but I like it so far. The less pressure Keir is under, the better our chances are of having a somewhat normal relationship.

As normal as a world-famous billionaire can get, I guess.

"Since my brother came over this morning, and--" he pauses and casts a scowl over my shoulder. "Damned paparazzi. They really are everywhere. Like fucking roaches."

I lean in closer, doing my best to ignore whatever sideshow the paparazzi are setting up behind me. "Since your brother came over, and what?" I prompt, hoping he’ll get back to whatever he was about to say. "What did he do?"

"Hm?" Keir slowly turns his attention back to me, but is still keeping one eye on the photographer behind me. "He stated that my mother and father employ the entire security detail. Including, I'm guessing, the guy who chased and terrified you at the airport."

I gape at him. "What?"

Keir swats at a paparazzo, even though I can't see the one he's concerned with.I’m guessing the guy must be across the small cobblestone street, but I know he’ll have an easier time taking our picture if I turn to look. Still, it’s more than a little unnerving to know that every move we make is being followed so closely.

We’ve only just arrived at the cafe. There are already people starting to notice us. Granted, word gets around fast on a small island, but this is different. This feels more intrusive.

And maybe it’s just my imagination, but there’s also a tension in the air that I don’t normally notice. Or maybe it has to do with the fact that Keir is growing more and more agitated and angry every time his gaze flicks over in that direction.

"Try to ignore them," I murmur. I start to reach over for his hand before I catch myself and grab my water glass instead. "What do you know about the security detail?"

"Nothing definitive. But James was quite willing to give up details about my mother's involvement in Max's murder."

"What!?" I gasp. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm serious as the death sentence. By my brother's accounting, my mother has a lot of blood on her hands. Of course, I haven't verified this with anyone else. So he could be full of it. But it may very well be true."

I shake my head, pushing back my hair. "I know your mother is rude and doesn't follow the rules... but to think she's a murderer? I can't believe you let James keep talking."

Keir shrugs, distracted by something out of my field of vision. He pushes to his feet just as I turn to see three reporters snapping photos.

"Keir," I begin, but he shakes his head.

"Just a second, Ella. I’m sorry." He scoots closer to me and places a protective hand on the back of my chair as he looks up over the top of my head. "Don’t come any closer. You’ve taken your photos; now get the hell out of here and leave us alone."

It’s impossible to resist looking now. I can sense the other man nearby even if I can’t see him right away, but I’m not prepared for just how close he is when I finally glance back over my shoulder and hear the unmistakable click and whir of his camera.

"Lord," I turn away from him as quickly as I can, but I know it’s too late. "These guys really have no shame at all, do they?"

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