This chapter is dedicated to OP-rah275

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"HE KILLED HIMSELF," I BLURT OUT, and everyone in the library turns to stare at me, eyes wide. I make a face and lower my voice. "Sorry, sorry."

When Dominic motions for me to continue, I whisper, "Maurizio killed himself on the way to Fortrose in some small town. Hung himself from a barn he stayed the night in. He wasn't featured in any of the death lists, but he was in the newspaper."

"How'd you figure to look in the newspaper?" Maria asks.

I don't even want to look her in the eye, but I force myself to meet her stare and say, "I figured there's more than one way to die. And suicide was considered a sin, so it wouldn't be in the death list because it's pretty much considered evil. So I looked in newspapers on a hunch, and there it was."

"Well? Read it to us," Angel says.

For a second, I feel hopelessly alone. Dominic hates me. Angel feels nothing for me, and Maria . . . well, Maria fucked the girl I'm falling in love with.

But I straighten my shoulders and read out, "Maurizio Colora was a merchant on his way to Inverness, Scotland, and he stopped to stay the night in Yurie, Fortrose at a barn. Guests at the nearby tavern say he was a friendly elderly man with many stories. No one could have supposed that later that night, he would . . ." I finish it for them, letting them fill in the blanks. "His last known words were to the bartender, saying that the Jewels were where they always were. Speculation arose that he may have been intoxicated with laudanum. He left a note behind, but it is unknown what the letter was writ, for his son kept it in his possession."

Immediately, Angel curses. "That sniveling, drunk, bastard Horace! He kept the suicide note from us!"

"The letter was lost in a house fire sixty years ago," I say stiffly. "Horace didn't have it."

Angel goes silent, but I see the iciness in her expression.

Maria seems to be avoiding my eyes. Good. Serves her right. I'm pissed right now.

Dominic clears his throat at last. "So this letter is just gone."

"It was photographed," I say. "It's at the Louvre in Paris. It's not lost yet."

I'm hurt and confused and most of all, furious. At how Angel has treated me. I told her my story, and she doesn't give a shit. But that's on me-for caring too much, for letting everything out too fast, too soon. My own damn fault. I should never have trusted a Mafia boss.

"Alright, let's go," Maria says, her brown eyes flickering. She has a heart-shaped face, large eyes, a soft nose. She's beautiful. Maybe this is who Angel wants. Not me.

I stand and nod coldly. "Let's go."

THERE ARE TWENTY MINUTES LEFT TO THE FLIGHT, which means I'm twenty minutes away from seeing the city of my dreams. Paris, home of baguettes and croissants and perfume and stereotypes.

This is the time that Maria decides she wants to come up next to me. Her hair is twisted into an elegant knot and her long lashes flutter in the afternoon sunlight as she says, "What happened last night . . . it's not what you think."

"I don't care."

"Cade," she says softly. "Last night . . . all Angel and I did was-"

I notice Angel watching us, her expression impenetrable, and I harden. With the most menacing look I can muster, I glare down at Maria. "I don't want to hear it, okay? Don't shove it down my throat. What you and her did is your business. I don't care."

Maria leaves.

The rest of the flight passes by that much more slowly. I try to distract myself with thoughts of the Mona Lisa and the Eiffel Tower, but this time it doesn't work. This time, I'm thinking about Angel. Angel's eyes, Angel's smile, Angel's kiss. Shit.

I didn't mean to start falling with the most dangerous Mafia boss in Sicily. What the hell am I doing?

THE CITY IS MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN I could have imagined.

Of course, the Louvre is closed now, but the Eiffel Tower is lit up and it glows, a dazzling black monument. I can't help loving it-loving this. The feel of French air, the sound of violin and piano, the chatter of people in love.

"Bellissimo, eh?" says Dominic beside me.

I give him a brief nod. He's not exactly who I want to be sharing this moment with until he clears his throat and says, "About what I said before . . . I'm sorry."

"What? I didn't hear that."

He ignores me. "I've seen the way you make Angel. Happy. And it's better than I've seen her in a long time. You need to talk to her."

I stare at the twinkling lights. "I don't need to do anything."

"Come on. Cade."

"She chose Maria." It sounds childish, immature, but isn't it right? Angel went for Maria, not me.

"That's not important," Dominic says, and I sputter. "Also, your hair looks good. Talk to her."

I'd forgotten about my hair. I'd cut it to shoulder-length, tired of the long, matted locks. Angel had been glancing at me all day, but she'd said nothing. Surprise.

"Aren't you a master of persuasion," I say drily. Dominic backs away until I'm left alone on the field, right in front of the Eiffel Tower.

A few minutes later, I hear someone walk up to me.

"Say one more thing about Angel, Dominic," I say, "and I'll throw you off the Eiffel Tower."

But it's not Dominic behind me.

"Hey," Angel says softly. She holds up a bottle of wine in one hand, the expensive kind. "Want to go up?"

"Up?"

"Up the Eiffel Tower. There's a staircase."

I shrug, but you fucking bet I want to. Even if I hate her guts at the moment. I follow her as she leads the way towards a sign that says Closed and we step past it. The staircase is black metal, and it doesn't seem altogether stable, but I'm not backing out.

I try not to think about Maria, but I can't help asking, "So . . . where is Maria tonight?"

Angel chuckles, but she doesn't look back. We keep going higher and higher, up a twisting and turning pattern of staircase. "She's at the hotel."

"So why are you here? Shouldn't you be there with her?" I retort. Shit, I think. I hear the way I sound now. Petty.

"You know, I think it's-how do Americans say it?-hot, when you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

Higher and higher we go, our footsteps echoing on the rickety metal.

"You sound like a jealous wife."

It must have slipped out of her because for a heartbeat I see her freeze before continuing. That doesn't sound like such a bad thing to be, I think, and then am startled. A wife? Since when did I want to be Angel's wife?

At last, we reach a high point on the tower, overlooking the entire city. Angel sits down over the edge, her legs dangling. She uncorks the bottle of wine and motions for me to sit down, but I stand unflinching.

"So what?" I say. "We're just going to pretend like last night you weren't with Maria? I know we're not dating, I know we never said we're exclusive, but . . ." But I kind of assumed. "But that's not what I want. You to go around fucking other women. I don't want that kind of relationship."

"I didn't fuck her," Angel says quietly.

"Yeah? What do you call what we've been doing? A hookup? Next you're going to tell me you're straight."

"I didn't fuck Maria," Angel says, a little louder. She takes a sip of wine, straight from the bottle. "All we did was kiss."

"So that makes it fine."

"No, that's not what I meant. I just . . . all we did was kiss," she repeats.

"Like I'm supposed to forgive you now? This is bullshit, Angel. Bullshit." Suddenly fueled by the confidence of the night air the city around us and the fact that we're in Paris, I say, "What do you want, Angel? What is it that you want?"

She doesn't answer. Her black hair is pushed gently by the breeze, but she doesn't move. She looks out towards the city, not facing me. I move closer.

I whisper, "What do you want?"

I can see the city reflected in her eyes, the dazzling sea of lights. She is beautiful. She is otherworldly. She is silent.

"I won't do this," I say, not letting my tears show. "I'm not going to break my heart, not when it's one-sided. Not when you're like this. I'll ask you one last time. One do you want, Angel?"

I want her to answer, I want us to be together, Cade. I want us to date and kiss and mess around. I want us to . . .

She doesn't say any of that. She doesn't say anything at all.

"Fuck this," I say quietly. "I'm done."

I turn around and make my way down the stairs. Down each step, I wait for her to call out to me, to tell me to turn around. But she doesn't. Disappointment clouds my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Angel chose what she wanted. Now I have to choose, too.

>>>

This was a pretty intense chapter, huh? A little bit longer than usual, but I felt it was necessary. Comment what you think will happen next! Do you think Angel and Cade will get back together? Will Angel prove herself? Or will they find the treasure and leave each alone?

From the moon and back,
Sarai