Conquer Your Love (31 page)

Sylvie pushed the rosebushes aside and moved past them, barely paying attention
to their fragile beauty and the way they seemed to huddle together to protect
themselves from nature’s unpredictable forces.

We split up as we circled the chapel and finally found what we were
looking for: a small door with a tiny but intricate
cross
engraved
into the wood. I tried the door and to my surprise it wasn’t
locked.

“I’m going in,” I said. Sylvie stared at me with an expression that
screamed sheer dread. As if the thought unnerved her, she took a step back.

“No way. I’m not going in there. Sorry, you’re on your own.”

“It’s in the middle of the day. What do you think could possibly happen
to you?” Her face made me smile. “Okay, stay here.”

I pried the heavy door open and stepped into the semi dark room. It was
bigger than it looked from outside—maybe the size of a bathroom—and
accommodated two benches set up in front of an altar. The walls were covered in
religious paintings. At the front of the altar was the sculpture of a sitting
angel,
his eyes cast on the concrete floor, appearing to be in
deep thought, his face a mask of melancholy. I wondered whether Maria had felt
that way during her marriage. I didn’t know a lot about the woman, but I had a
strong feeling the chapel hadn’t been just a place of worship; it had also
doubled as a refuge.

Kneeling, I made a cross sign and sat down on a bench, my gaze scanning
the dirty window—the only source of light. Branches scratched against the
glass and the unnerving sound carried over like a silent warning. In that instant
I felt something in the air—a shiver of sadness. This place was filled
with hopelessness, just like the woman who had come here to seek spiritual
comfort. Maybe something terrible happened and she was ashamed of Alessandro’s
actions, and this was the only place of peace she could find.

“Found anything?” Sylvie called, jerking me out of my thoughts. I turned
to see her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest and a
frown darkening her features.

“Not yet,” I said.

“Hurry up. This place gives me the creeps.”

Jett’s report specifically mentioned the diary had been buried, but the
floor and walls were made of stone. I commenced my investigation by searching
under the benches and altar for any hiding place large enough to fit a book or
a diary, then brushed my hands over the stonewalls to make sure I wasn’t
missing a loose stone. I checked the religious paintings twice before I
returned to Sylvie, convinced whoever removed the diary never put it back in
its hiding place.

“If you wanted to hide something personal, where would you put it?” I
asked.

Sylvie shrugged. “I’d do what normal people do and get a safe.”

I laughed. “That’s not exactly hiding. Anyone could force you into
giving away the lock combination.”

“I guess.” She paused. “You could always bury a hole in the ground.”

“That’s a good one.” I scanned the yard and the overgrown thicket. Maria
could have buried her diary anywhere on the estate, including under the
rosebushes leading from the chapel to the backyard and around the house.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Sylvie asked. “I mean, even if we
find the original hiding spot, the diary isn’t there.”

“You’re right.” I bent down and ran my hand through the damp earth,
letting it crumble between my fingers. Jett told me the PI took the diary and
then one day it was lost.

How could I explain to Sylvie that I was trying to find out what kind of
life my great aunt had once led?

“I was hoping I might find something—anything that would help me
visualize her life.” I smiled, realizing just how ridiculous I sounded. Human
life’s so much more complex than a few diary entries. Even if the diary was
still buried here somewhere and I found it, I couldn’t possibly read her
emotions and the kind of person she was from a few words strung together.
Judging from Sylvie’s skeptical look, she thought the same.

A strong wind rustled the leaves and raindrops began to drizzle down on
us.

“Let’s get back inside. I’m cold.” Sylvie said. “We’ll dig up the whole
place another day.”

I was about to follow her, when a movement in my peripheral vision
caught my attention. I scanned the woods. All I could see were trees, their
wide crowns casting ominous shadows, and yet I couldn’t shake off the
overwhelming feeling of being watched.

“Brooke?” Sylvie called. “Are you coming?”

“I thought I saw something.” I turned away from the woods reluctantly.

“Of course. If I inherited an estate with an eerie chapel, I’d think
it’s haunted, too.”

She was laughing at me. I slapped the back of her head gently. “That’s
not what I meant. It looked like a tall figure dressed in black.”

“Now you’re creeping me out. Can we please go inside?” Sylvie whispered.

“It was probably nothing anyway.” I tried to infuse as much confidence
into my voice as I could gather, but my glance trailed back to the trees. “I’m
a little paranoid.” Funnily, my words didn’t sound particularly convincing.

“I would be too if someone tried to kill me,” Sylvie said, yanking at my
arm. “Nothing against you, Stewart, but I feel safer around the guys.”

We barely reached the house when the rain turned into a torrential
downpour. Sylvie locked the backdoor behind us and I switched on the lights. She
brewed us our obligatory afternoon coffee while I stood in front of the large bay
window, staring at the puddles of rain and my reflection, unable to shake off
the feeling of being watched.

***

We decided to drink our coffee with the guys in the library. The moment
we entered, Jett’s arms moved around my waist and stayed there, his chin
resting against my head. I could feel his heart beating in unison with mine as
his body heat warmed my skin.

“Why are you wet?” he whispered.

“We visited the chapel.”

He looked at me but didn’t break our embrace. “How is it?”

“It’s beautiful.” I paused to consider my words and found that none
could do it justice. “You should check it out one day. See for yourself.”

“Did you find anything yet?” Sylvie asked, her hands resting on Kenny’s
shoulders, her eyes fixed on the computer. My eyes moved from her to Kenny’s
arms and for the first time I noticed one of his tattoos looked like Jett’s.

“We’re getting there,” Jett said, his lips descending to nuzzle my neck.

I tried to twist my way out of his arms. He didn’t let go. “What have
you found so far?”

“We haven’t checked everything but—” Jett held up the disk and
smiled triumphantly “—the entire hard drive is on
this
disk.”

There was something in his tone that made me look up. “What’s on it?”

“It’s going to take days to go through everything but we found a file
containing a spreadsheet with numbers. I’ve written a couple of them down,”
Kenny said, pointing to the indecipherable handwriting on a sheet of paper.

“What do you need the numbers for?” Sylvie picked up the paper and
walked over to me so we could look together.

“The first three digits of each and every number match the corresponding
line in the black book,” Jett replied. I met his glance and something passed
between us. “They’re all here. Look them up.”

I counted the rows. There were thirty-six in total—the exact same
total of numbers. The first row on the paper started with the same three digits
like the one in the black book.

“Okay,” I said. “The corresponding lines start out the same but after
three digits the code seems to change?”

Jett nodded.

“What do you think they are?” I asked.

“If you count the number of digits, I’d go for sort codes, bank
accounts, or passwords,” Kenny said. “And since Jett has financial relations
here, I suggest we drive to his bank and make a discreet enquiry.”

“I could give my advisor a call and ask to see him today,” Jett said.

“And if that doesn’t work out, I’ll hack into the bank’s system,” Kenny
said.

“Nothing new there.” Jett grinned at me, revealing his gorgeous dimples.
“Kenny’s the best money can hire. No wonder he’s so popular.”

A professional
hacker?
Holy cow.

I had assumed that was just a joke. I bit my lip to hide my shocked
expression.

“That’s so hot,” Sylvie mouthed to me.

Of course she was into bad guys. And if they could do something as
illegal as hacking into a bank’s database, they immediately attained ‘keeper’
status for sure.

We arrived in
Bellagio in Jett’s
replacement car. Jett
drove,
Kenny sat in the
passenger seat, while Sylvie and I huddled together in the backseat. My head
was throbbing so hard, I felt slightly nauseous. Maybe it was the prospect of
being pregnant, or maybe my nausea was the result of being pregnant. Either
way, I was scared out of my mind.

I rested my head against the cold glass window and closed my eyes, the
sound of the rain splashing down on the asphalt relaxing me. All I could think
of was how my life had changed into a mess. Just when I thought it couldn’t get
more complicated, life twirled up another whirlwind of chaos, pushing me onto
unknown territory.

There’s nothing more frightening than not knowing what the future will
bring. A baby was one of the biggest challenges I could think of. I had no job,
no money, and knew nothing about raising kids.

“We need to get some aspirin from the drug store,” Sylvie said to no one
in particular.

You have enough aspirin to last you for a
year,
I wanted to say when I noticed her conspiratorial smile and consequent wink.
She wanted to get rid of the guys, of course.

“There’s a large one on the main street. We could pop in quickly,” Jett
said, making it clear he wasn’t going to let us out of his sight. His worried
gaze brushed over me in the rearview mirror, and I shot him a weak smile.

A few minutes later the car came to a halt in front of the drug store.
This was our chance to get out before he found a parking spot.

“You stay here. We’ll be back in a minute,” I said, opening the car door
before Jett could argue.

“Be quick,” he called after us.

The rain was falling so heavily, we dashed for the store, eager to take
refuge. Through the glass windows I could see Jett and Kenny’s eyes following
our every move. Figuring we had no time to waste, we headed straight for the
counter.

“We need more pregnancy tests,” Sylvie said to the same lady, who’d
served us on our first visit. “One from each brand you have in stock.”

The woman nodded and smiled at me, probably sensing my turmoil.

“Oh, and a pack of aspirin,” Sylvie added, nodding toward the window.

“Why do you need so many?” I whispered, pointing to the tests.

She shrugged. “What if they’re faulty? We want to be sure either way.”

We paid quickly, hid the pregnancy tests inside Sylvie’s huge designer
bag, and walked out holding the plastic bag containing the aspirin.

“Thanks,” I whispered to her before we reached the car. I really
appreciated her support.

“You know I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

With a questioning glance aimed at me, Jett started the engine and
joined the main traffic, heading for the bank.

“Where’s the paper?” he asked as soon as he had parked the car. Kenny
handed it to him and Jett folded it in half.

“Okay, this is what we do next,” Jett said. “You stay here with the
girls while I meet with my bank advisor and pretend I have to transfer money to
two accounts. Don’t come after me and don’t leave the car.”

“Got it,” Kenny said. And then Jett was gone.

***

The silence in the car felt awkward. Sylvie played with her hair, Kenny
stared out the windows, and I was busy fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. I
used the moment to get a good look at Kenny, not least because he seemed to
genuinely care about Sylvie and I sort of wanted her to date one of Jett’s
friends.

From up close, I couldn’t deny Kenny was attractive. His strong features
and cropped dark hair gave him a somewhat rough and manly edge—quite the
opposite of Sylvie, who looked as sweet as a pie. If someone could see past the
tattoos that covered half of his neck, his left arm, and his whole shoulder and
back—or so I was told—he might just scrub up well enough to meet
Sylvie’s rich parents. I smiled at the prospect, until I realized he lacked two
important features: money and success. Sylvie never talked much about her
parents, but it was enough to know they valued social status higher than
personality.

“The spreadsheet’s the only thing you found so far?” Sylvie asked Kenny.