Page 154 of Unlock My Heart

“Nope.” I warned Sienna that I was done being so damn understanding, and I fucking meant it. “Does she still have access to the cellphone?”

“Yes. Kirksey’s been blowing it up with text messages.”

“Then let’s see how this plays out.”

“You’re gambling with your life,” Saint warns me.

It’s always been Sienna’s life on the line. It’s time I put my own skin in the game.

Sienna

The present

“What do you mean, no? I said, drive me to the airport,” I demand of the third guard who’s turned me down.

“Sorry, Mrs. Calvani, but I can’t do that.”

My suitcase gets flung to the driveway as I stomp my heels back inside the house. “You.” I point at Saint. “I have no doubt you have a hand in this.”

“Mrs. Calvani, did you really expect your husband to agree with you relocating cross-country?” Saint challenges.

Well, yes!

Why would Fabien still want me after last night? We’ve burned each other to the ground, nothing but cinder and ash.

“So I’m a prisoner in my own home, now?” I challenge.

“Mr. Calvani has had less than twenty-four hours to process this news,” he points out, and I hate it when men have valid points. “Cut him some slack.”

“Saint, you’re a man ruled by logic.” I try a different approach. “Fabien and my relationship defies logic. Together we’re toxic. Volatile. Going to destroy each other. A tragedy has but one ending.”

“Is there a question?”

“Don’t stand there and watch it happen! Do something,” I say, exasperated.

Saint holds up his hands. “Love isn’t logical. The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“My heart wants to be in New York!” I stop my foot.

“Since when? You love NOLA.” Fabien appears looking rougher than I’ve ever seen him, wearing the same suit from last night.

“Don’t tell me what I love,” I snap.

Fabien calmly examines me with bloodshot eyes. “Is the bombshell portion of your revenge plot over, or should I brace myself for more?”

“I’ll keep you posted,” I say, spinning on my heel and marching out.

I slam the door to my room, doing a little stomp and scream before kicking off my designer heels and changing into my studio clothes. But not before a pit stop to the guest bathroom.

Firing up the cellphone, I scroll through Kirksey’s angry messages.

I’ve paid you two million, and I expect my investment to pay off.

Last chance, doll, before I put a hit out on your life.

A bitter laugh escapes me. Don’t waste your time. I’ve been dead for years.

I don’t take kindly to threats. Here’s your information as promised, and this concludes our business. Fabien and family will be meeting at Clavani Ice Company on Friday at midnight.