“Is it Ori or Shiloh?”’ She stroked his face and gave him a rallying smile.
He hesitated, then shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it.”
He let her hold him then, there on his couch, the morning sun casting warmth across the whole room. Like Kate does, he thought. Here, now, in her arms, he felt like he would be happy to never move again. To hell with work, to hell with his civic duty, he just wanted to lie in Kate Garcia’s arms and sleep, eat, make love and laugh. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt joy before Kate inveigled herself into his life. She made him laugh, and for that moment he would forget everything.
“Sometimes it follows you.”
Kate frowned and made him look at her. “What? What do you mean by that?”
He looked up at her, her dark eyes curious, confused, her caramel hair falling around her face. He wanted to tell her about the connection to Ori, the coinciding dates, his fears about Alex’s preoccupation with Ori.
He sat up and gave her a smile. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it, Kate. What time do you have to be at work?”
She pulled his face to hers. “Not until much, much later.”
Lisander wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair, deciding that now, right now, was not the time to tell her that the new photograph on the killer’s website, was of Kate. Underneath it was one word: Midnight.
In their absence, the staff at Maceo’s gallery had been working long hours and to thank them, he threw a party. Ori was glad to have something positive to focus on. The only downside was that Alex was coming for the party, along with Lisander and Kate Garcia. She and Alex hadn’t spoken since the day they left his home in Vermont, although she knew Maceo had talked to him. There had been an hour long telephone call where the two men had talked everything out, both of them apologizing for the way they had behaved. Maceo told her afterward that he hoped that his and Alex’s friendship could be mended. Ori replied that she hoped so too, but it didn’t detract from the fact that she couldn’t help be wary of the other man.
She avoided him at the party, but when she thought she had gotten away with it, he came to find her. She was hiding out in the little tearoom at the corner of the office upstairs, exhausted and drained.
“Hey, you.”
She looked up and saw Alex smiling at her. Her heart sank. “Hey. I was just taking a break. I’ll be down in a sec.”
But he didn’t leave. He pulled up a chair next to hers. Ori sat back, her arms crossing defensively without her even noticing. Alex saw the movement.
“Ori, I don’t know how else to tell you I’m sorry about what happened. I think if you asked around, people, Maceo, would tell you it was out of character for me. Please, forgive me.”
She tried to smile. “Already forgiven, Alex, truly.”
There was an awkward silence. Alex sighed. “And I’m sorry for kissing you that night. That was unconscionable.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Another silence then Alex got up. “I’ll leave you alone.”
“Thanks.”
She watched him walk down the stairs and felt both guilty and relieved. Everything Jason Meeks said was now coloring her every interaction with one of Maceo’s best friends. God. After that day she had told Jason that she didn’t want to see him anymore and he had acquiesced more easily than she’d expected.
God. She would be glad when this party, this week, was over. She and Maceo had plans to drive down to Florence on Friday—a long weekend in a private villa in the middle of Tuscany. Utter bliss. They hadn’t been truly alone for what seemed like months. Not even their security was coming with them; Maceo had promised no one would even know where they were.
“Incognito,” he said wickedly. “And while we’re there, we should talk about when you’ll allow me to make you my wife.”
She’d almost forgotten his proposal during the last few weeks, but now she smiled to herself. Yes. She couldn’t wait to be his wife; even with the revelations about Viola, she trusted this man of hers beyond … reason, she chuckled to herself. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that Maceo loved her without limits.
She went to find him now and saw him out on the balcony talking to Cassie, one of his assistants. Drawing near, Ori realized they were arguing. Cassie was looking upset and Maceo was gesturing, his expression animated and fierce.
Ori stayed back as she watched them, then suddenly Cassie stalked back into the room and past Ori without glancing at her. Maceo was on the balcony still, taking deep breaths in. Ori went silently to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Maceo, still trying to calm himself, slid his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. Ori held him, but had the feeling he was trying to hide something. “Maceo,” she said softly, “whatever you need to tell me, it’s okay.” She steeled herself. “If you’ve been having an affair with Cassie or …”
Maceo looked up sharply. “Is that what you think of me now? Is every woman I speak to going to be someone I’ve fucked or am fucking?”
Ori recoiled, and Maceo held his hands up. “I’m sorry, mio caro. I didn’t mean that. Please, forgive me. I just fired Cassie. Alex told me she was the one who told him about Viola and myself. How she knew, I do not know, and she wouldn’t tell me. I offered her the chance to come clean, but she clammed up. So, she’s gone. Ori ...” He took her in his arms again. “I swear to you, on my life, Cassie is neither an ex- nor current lover. You are the only one for me. Do you believe me?”
She nodded, her eyes still wary. Maceo pressed his lips gently to hers. “Then I think we should use this party to announce our engagement. Tell the world. Make a declaration.”
Ori thought it was a terrible idea, but she could see Maceo needed to prove himself to her. He didn’t need to; she believed him entirely when it came to Cassie. She would seek out the woman herself and get the truth out of her. She owed Maceo that much.
Their friends rallied around them as Maceo made the announcement and at least she got to see her Maceo again; cheerful, happy, the showman. “Ti amo,” she whispered in his ear, and his smile made her heart soar.
“Ti amerò per sempre,” he said simply. I will love you forever.
Friday came around, and Ori felt her heart lift as they caught a water taxi out to where Maceo’s Lotus was parked. When they drove out of the city, they held hands, and both of them felt a lightening of the spirit. Maceo told Ori as much as he knew about Florence and Tuscany and Ori listened to the passionate Italian as he described the beauty of his homeland. Oh, how I love you, she thought, her hand tangling in his dark curls.
They stopped along the way at a small roadside tavern, and Ori was delighted at spending time with Maceo, truly alone with him. They were relaxed and happy and joking around. As they walked back to the car, Maceo whispered in her ear. “Think we should stop in some olive grove along the way?”
Ori grinned at him. “And why’s that?” she retorted, feigning innocence.
Maceo laughed.
“I think you know.”
It was twilight when they stopped at a gas station. Waving hello at the gas station owner, Ori waited in the car as Maceo filled the car and went to pay.
Her phone buzzed, and she was looking down at it as the driver’s door opened.
“Hey, all set?”
No answer and, expecting Maceo, she was shocked when she looked up into the face of a stranger. Not the face, but a black mask pulled down. Ori had no time to yell; her attacker clamped his hand over her face and with his other hand, tore her T-shirt open.
Ori, beyond terror now, watched in disbelief as he placed the tip of the knife against her navel and for a second she thought he was just going to threaten her again. That he was here just to scare her. Terrorize her. He removed his hand from her mouth.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t.”
The moment he drove the blade into her, all the way to the hilt, she knew she was wro
ng. The steel sliced through her belly as if it were butter and as he stabbed her over and over, she wondered how she could ever have been so stupid to think she was ever safe.
Maceo... my love, my life.
As her attacker finally let her be, Ori felt her body betray her, her head slumping against the cold window, her hand clamped over her torn belly, trying to stem the blood gushing from her wounds and knowing that she would not survive this.
“Why?” Barely a whisper.
Her attacker pulled his mask up enough to reveal his lips and kissed her as she bled to death. “Because … this is how I show my love, Orianthi,” he whispered.
Ori barely felt it when he stabbed her twice more and then left her to die.
Maceo was chatting to the gas station owner and his wife as he paid for the gas. He was still smiling when he walked out to the car and got in.
“Great people, great ….”
He looked over at his love and for a second could not comprehend what he was seeing. Her lovely face was pale, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged and shallow. His eyes dropped, and he saw the torn flesh and the blood, so much blood, and knew in an instant what had happened.
The gas station owner would never forget the young man’s howl of utter despair and grief …
Midnight Part Four
Florence.
Now.
Maceo Bartoli felt as if his eyelids were glued open. His eyes felt gritty and dry; his entire body felt frozen. The air ambulance that had flown him and Ori to Florence had been a godsend, but he could barely register anything else but the stillness of her. He had never known the meaning of the word desolation until that day. He saw the horrified looks on the face of the paramedics, the look that passed between them that said, “We can’t save her.”
They had to pry him away from her so they could try. One of them pressed down hard on her torn belly, trying to keep the blood inside her body, he supposed. He felt numb. How? How in the few minutes between him filling the car and going into the gas station to pay had someone stabbed Ori so brutally, so mercilessly? Why hadn’t she screamed?
The police were kind; he supposed the only reason they hadn’t arrested him was that Ori had clearly been okay before he stepped into the gas station; she’d waved happily to the owner.
You saved me, again, he thought. I would give my own life to save yours, my precious Ori. Please hold on. Please.
They had rushed Ori into surgery, promising they’d try, but Maceo knew it was a long shot, that soon the surgeon would come out and tell him that they had done all they could, but she had been too far gone. He got up from the plastic chair he’d slumped into and walked towards the operating theaters, pushing through the restricted door. A nurse stopped him.
“Sir, I’m sorry, you’re not permitted to be here.”
Maceo looked at her wildly. “She’ll die. She’s going to die, and I want to be there for her. I don’t want her to die alone … I can’t, I can’t …”
The nurse, her face full of sympathy, held him as he began to sob. “Ori, oh god, Ori, please, please … this can’t be it, this cannot be the end …”
Kate Garcia lay under Lisander Duarte, kissing him, his cock plowing deep inside her as she moaned happily. Would she ever get enough of this man? God, now he was rubbing her clit … Kate came with a cry of ecstasy and Lisander gave a groan as he pumped his semen deep inside her. They were breathless by the time they had finished, stretched out next to each other, laughing and talking.
They had decided to stay in Venice for a few days after Maceo’s party. Kate had never been to Italy, and Lisander had set up some meetings for some designers while he was there. Yesterday he’d dropped her off with Lucia, Maceo’s friendly and fun assistant, and the two women had done every tourist spot Lucia could think of.
They were sitting in a small trattoria when Lucia smiled at her. “I remember doing this with Ori … God, was it really less than a year ago? So much has happened.”
Kate smiled at her. “How long have you two been friends?”
“A long time. Since college.”
“Ori’s really lovely.”
“Yes, she is...” Lucia smiled then her smile faded. “Considering what she’s been through in her life, it’s a damn miracle.”
Kate nodded, but said nothing. Lucia shook herself. “She speaks very highly of you too. I know she’d like to get to know you better, especially now that all the crap with Janek is over. She’ll always be grateful.”
Kate shook her head. “I didn’t do anything; Maceo was innocent.”
They sat in companionable silence for a while, then Lucia said in a low voice. “Who do you think killed him?”
Kate sighed. “I honestly have no idea, and I think I could care less. Tyson Janek was scum.”
“Agreed.” Lucia scooped the last bit of her gelato into her mouth. “Mm, heavenly. So, how are things with Lisander?”
Kate flushed red, but laughed. “Good. Very good. I do feel a little shell-shocked. His world is a lot bigger than mine ever was.”
Lucia grinned. “Yeah, that takes a bit of getting used to, even for those of us who aren’t romantically involved with one of the Midnight Club.”
Kate looked at her curiously. “You know, I keep asking Lisander about their boys’ club, but he just keeps saying that they’ve all grown too old for that nonsense.”
“Huh,” Lucia said, raising her eyebrows. “That’s a new one. I don’t think Maceo feels that way.”
Kate sipped her now almost cold coffee. “I’d like to know how they started.”
“I’ll tell you what I know, but obviously, it’ll only be from Maceo’s point of view, because he’s the one I heard it all from.”
“That’s okay, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. Well, where to start ...”
Harvard University, 20 years ago …
Lisander watched, amused, as his young Italian friend was berated in the middle of the cafeteria by a gorgeous young undergraduate. Lisander would have bet good money that Maceo didn’t even remember the girl’s name, let alone her phone number to call her again. He had never known anyone as blatantly charming or irresponsible as Maceo, but the other man had made his first semester in a new country a lot easier. And definitely more fun. They’d started talking at a bar during Fresher’s week and had hit it off straight away. Maceo’s roommate, Seth Cantor, a tall, quiet Canadian, had become a good friend too. That they shared a birthday was just a weird but cool coincidence according to Maceo, but Lisander, always superstitious, wondered if there was more to it.
“Hey...” Seth poked Lisander on the shoulder, jolting him from his reverie. “Is Maceo winning or losing the argument?”
Lisander chuckled as they both watched Maceo gesticulating wildly, trying to explain himself to the angry girl. “Losing, of course,” Lisander said with a laugh. “I’m waiting for the slap.”
As if on cue, the girl cuffed Maceo around the face and darted off in tears.
Grinning ruefully, Maceo made his way back to his friends. He shrugged when he saw them laughing. “Collateral damage,” he said, showing them the bright red palm print on his face.
“Do you even remember her name?” Seth shook his head, laughing. Maceo grabbed a can of soda from Lisander’s tray and popped the tab, completely unrepentant.
“Listen, doesn’t everyone come to college to get stoned, educated, and laid? They should know the rules by now.”
Seth and Lisander exchanged a look. “One day, Bartoli, you will meet a woman who will slay you. Utterly slay you.”
Maceo stole Lisander’s apple too and crunched into it. “I doubt that day will ever come, my friends …”
Florence.
Now …
Maceo felt like he was broken. He thought if he opened his mouth to speak then all that would come out would be gibberish. The nurse who kept an eye on him in the waiting room was casting worried glances in his direction.
It had been hours, an
d they were still trying to save Ori’s life. Every time they came to update him, he steeled himself for the news that Ori was dead. The strain was almost unbearable.
She could die. My darling girl could actually die.
“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you?” The nurse had a kind, sweet face and he tried to smile at her.
“I can’t remember any of their numbers.” God, he was out of it. The nurse got up and came to sit by him.
“They will be on your phone, I think. May I look?”
He handed her his phone disinterestedly, then an idea started to form in his mind. “Yes,” he said, his voice gruff. You can call four people for me. Ask them to come. Ask them to come together.”
The nurse was flicking through his contacts. “And the names?”
Maceo smiled without a glimmer of humor. “Seth Cantor, Lisander Duarte, Benoit Vaux … Alex Milland.”
Venice
Lisander put the phone down and drew in a deep breath. He stood in Maceo’s office in The Floating City Galleria with a pale, shaken Kate and a tear-stained Lucia. Ori had been stabbed. She was dying.
“Jesus,” he finally said, the word coming out in a rush.
“Sander? Does Maceo want us to go there?” Kate put her hand on his arm.
Lisander nodded. “Yes … he said to use his private jet – Lucia, can you arrange that for us? He wants us to come together, so we’ll have to wait for Benoit, Seth, and Alex.”
“Why does he want to wait for all of us?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.”
Lucia, who looked like she might pass out any moment, tried to stop the tears from falling, and Lisander put an arm around her shoulder.
“I knew,” Lucia sobbed. “I knew one day someone would get to her. I thought with Janek dead that she’d be safe for a little while.”
Lisander met Kate’s eye. “She’s in the best place, Lucia.”
“Where was she stabbed?”
“Belly. Multiple times. She lost a lot of blood.”
Lucia turned and threw up into her trash can. Kate rubbed her back. “Oh, sweetie.” She looked at Lisander, desperation in her eyes. “Sander … what are we going to do?”
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