“You’re standing in the doorway watching me dance.”
“People can’t watch you perform now? Didn’t you used to do it on a stage?”
“You’ve never done it before.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t do it now.” He pops the wad of blue gum in his mouth and then stands up straighter. It doesn’t make much of a difference in his height since he’s too many inches off six feet. “I was doing some rounds and saw you dancing. Figured I’d stop to see what all the fuss was about.”
His borderline mocking tone of voice disrupts something inside me. If only I knew what. Then again, it could be leftover unease from what his twin brother once did—I still haven’t forgotten the way the wind was knocked out of me when Enrico had slammed his entire body into mine.
I’d flown halfway across the hall. He’d suffered a fatal consequence because of it.
I roll my shoulders back and grab my water bottle that’s off the nearby window ledge.
Caelian has specifically stated he wants me to remain outside the problems going on between him and his family and the Vorones. He says it’s for my safety.
But so much has been happening it feels like a missed opportunity not to pry. Matteo was the one who interrupted our time together the other night. He presented Caelian with evidence that Ms. Poitier has been the saboteur from inside the walls.
How can I resist poking around for info? It might even help Caelian gain clarity on what he needs to do.
No one suspects me of any scheming or manipulation. Even after running off like I did, everyone views me in a decidedly harmless way. Both a blessing and a curse. In this moment, as I suck down water and eye Matteo curiously, it’s a blessing.
“Do you always do rounds in the middle of the day?”
“Sometimes. Depends on if I’m looking for something.”
“So does that mean there’s something around today that you were looking for?” I ask innocently.
He pops his gum and gives a shrug. “There’s been a lot of shady activity going around. The person must not remember this estate’s rigged with plenty of cameras.”
“What’s this person up to?”
“That’s classified information,” he snaps. “I’m pretty sure Mr. C wouldn’t want you knowing. You should probably be happy he’s forgiven you at all for what you’ve pulled.”
I disguise my grimace with another suck of water. “I explained to Caelian why I did what I did.”
“I’m sure you did. You were real persuasive.” He winks at me before he abandons our impromptu conversation altogether.
I’m not sure what to make of anything.
He appeared one second and disappeared the next.
My fishing for intel feels like it’s flopped. I gathered no new info except the fact that Matteo is watching the manor closely. More closely than Ms. Poitier probably realizes.
A tug of trepidation troubles me the rest of the afternoon. I wrap up my dance practice by indulging in a hot shower and change of clothes. Within the hour, I’m curling up in the den with a new book to read in the time leading to dinner.
Concentration flickers in and out as I try to focus on the words.
My dance practice might’ve temporarily relieved troubled thoughts from my head, but they return in full force sitting in the den. Caelian’s been gone most of the day handling his operation. He hadn’t even clarified if he’d be home in time for dinner. He’s provided no updates about how he plans to handle the situation with Ms. Poitier.
“Everything alright, honey?”
“Hmm? Oh! Oh. Ms. P,” I stammer, jumping slightly in the armchair. My book almost slides down my thighs, but I catch it in time for it to fall. “Do you need help getting dinner ready?”
She tinkers out a laugh. “I think it looks more like you’re the one in need of help. What’s troubling you?”
“How do you know something’s troubling me?”
“Have you forgotten I’ve become a pretty dang good read on you? We’ve spent enough time together.”
