“Yeah, I don’t want to sleep next to the site of the latest Jaws sequel,” she deadpans.
Remy snorts. “We can stay on the couches down here, if that’s okay with you guys.”
Erik lifts a brow. “I will play. I’m not tired. You really should have guest rooms, Christianna.”
I whip my head to look at him. He doubles down.
“We have a house of furniture that was apparently stored by the Angel. We can have the items brought here and set up.”
Meg gapes. “Was that the search you had me do when you moved into the hotel?”
Remy lifts a shoulder. “Our house was empty. It had to be somewhere.”
“Why did she take your furniture?” I ask.
“Hard to say,” he replies. “I ignored her notes. That usually earns consequences. Either punishment or leverage.”
He exhales through his nose. “I was done being manipulated.”
I turn my head and meet Erik’s eyes. “We aren’t there yet. You weren’t even supposed to be here this weekend.”
He studies me. If I were a butterfly, I would be pinned.
“It’s beneficial. You have the room. We could move the furniture in and quit paying rent on a storage facility. You would have guest rooms.”
“Why are you paying for it if she moved your things?” I ask, avoiding the other topic.
“She used my credit card.” His gaze doesn’t falter. “Moving it once makes the most sense."
“Why don’t you put it back into the house she moved it from?” I ask.
“Because that house doesn’t make sense for us any longer. This house does.”
I sigh. He’s going to be intractable.
Chapter ninety-six
Christianna
“What do you think the note meant?” Meg whispers from her side of the bed.
I stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Until the opera house, I hadn’t really interacted with anyone in years. I keep hoping it’s coincidence.”
Meg doesn’t answer right away. When she does, her voice is quieter. “You had the flat tire. Then the calls. Then the fake sign-ups.”
I turn my head toward her.
“And the video,” she adds. “That wasn’t random. It wasn’t about him. It was about you.”
My body stiffens.
“The reporter followed the Earls to your house,” she continues. “Someone was watching closely enough to know how to get near you without coming straight at you.”
I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of the piano drifts up. I pause as I listen. Something new. Dark. Angry. My fingers itch to follow it, to disappear into the music.
“I don’t have time to unravel right now,” I say quietly. “We’re ramping up for the patron dinner party. Press. Local engagements.”
Meg exhales. “That’s why it matters.”
