I abandon my suitcase and fold my arms in front of me. “What do they actually know about me?” My hands go to my hips. Obviously, I have a little nervous energy. “I just want to know before I meet them.”
“They don’t know who you are, Aria. I didn’t tell them. I kept my request limited and in a narrow scope.”
“You had a lot of details about my family in that file I found.” I try not to sound accusing. I trust Kace. I do. In my gut, I trust this man in ways I never thought I’d trust anyone, but I’m also afraid of that trust.
He steps toward me and sets my suitcase aside, his hand settling warmly, dare I say even possessively, at my hip. “I promise you, Aria. I was careful. I gave Walker a limited, specific task.”
In earnest, I search his face, and I believe him. Still, I worry that he’s opened the door to trouble, and that’s not about fear. It’s about birthright. “You understand that I have—”
“I do, baby. You don’t need to explain yourself. At all. Ever. But I want you to think about something my father said to me years ago. It’s a quote by Dan Montano. ‘Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. It knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn’t matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle: when the sun comes up, you’d better be running.’”
“All my life I’ve been the gazelle trying to outrun the invisible lion, Kace.”
“And you think that’s control?”
“It’s the only way I had any control.”
“Because that’s what your mother taught you. My father was always the lion. And he made damn sure I knew you can only run so long before the lion catches you unless you catch him first. I don’t disagree with Gio. Control is a façade when you’re the hunted. We need to find a way to take control, really take control. Be the lion, not the gazelle.”
“And while I don’t disagree, there isn’t just one lion, Kace. The people who would want that formula, even just to sell it, are endless.”
“Agreed. But there has to be a way to ensure you’re not the path to their payoff. We’ll find Gio and then we’ll find a way but we need help. We need Walker.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. His idea represents a mammoth feat, but then so does running for the rest of our lives. And I’m no fool. I do need help. He’s offering me help and someone he trusts is a blessing compared to a stranger I might have called on my own. I grab a small empty bag from the shelf. “I need to go to his office on the way out. There might be something there that will help Walker find Gio.”
He smiles and grabs my suitcase. “Lead the way.”
I point at him. “I’m not promising that I’m telling them who I am.”
“You will. They’ll win you over.” And with that, he backs out of the closet, leaving me to think about those words. I don’t have to think hard. I want him to be right.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kace and I head downstairs and my path is straight to Gio’s office and his desk. Kace props himself in the doorframe, watching me as I scoop up all the papers on top of Gio’s desk and slide them into the shoulder bag I’d grabbed from the closet. Next, I open the drawer to my right where I’d found the evidence that he’d been diving deep into a hunt for all things Stradivarius. There’s nothing here that feels helpful and Lord knows I’ve looked, and looked some more. Well, except for one thing. There is one discovery that feels important: I lift his desk calendar and remove the letter from Sofia.
I slide the letter into the bag, stand up, and turn, pausing as my gaze catches on the painting on the wall behind his desk: a famous church in Italy, but it’s not the actual painting that has my attention now. It’s the way it’s tilted right.
Kace steps to my side, eyeing it with me. “What are we looking at, besides a tilted painting of an Italian church in your hometown of Cremona?”
My look is, no doubt, incredulous. “You know that church?”
“Of course. Cremona is home to your ancestor, the great Antonio Stradivari. I know everything about that city.” He motions to the painting. “That’s the Cremona Cathedral, baby. I visited it when I was there to visit your family. It’s dedicated to the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It’s also the seat of the Bishop of Cremona. If I’d suspected who you are, that would have told me.”