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They look heavy.

Dusting my hands off, I head towards him and pat his chest, saying, “I’ll let you carry them out,” before slipping past him.

Zade’s answering growl quickens my steps, a genuine smile blooming on my face. When I glance behind me, his head is turned over his shoulder, and he’s staring at me like he has plans for me later.

He won’t act on them, but I won’t lie and say the idea doesn’t sound a little intriguing.

After checking for passersby, Zade quickly drags Rocco into the back seat, and Francesca in the trunk.

They’ll be out for a while still, but he speeds us back to the airport anyway.

Thankfully, they don't wake up until halfway through the flight home, and we knock them right back out again before they can give either of us a headache.

It’s after midnight by the time we pull up to the looming gothic mansion, the gargoyles stationed on either side of the roof staring down at us.

I imagine they’d approve of what we’re doing if they were alive.

This time, I help Zade. He takes Rocco and I wrangle Francesca out of the trunk. I accidentally drop her, which earns a chuckle from Zade as he heaves Rocco up the porch steps and through the front door.

Luckily, Francesca is rail thin. She was obsessed with her image and ate like a rabbit. Bending down, I lift her up by the arms and throw her over my shoulder, and then quickly make my way into the manor.

The weight I lost during my captivity has been packed back on with muscle. Not only am I back to a healthy weight, but I’m in better shape than ever. Toned in all the right places, muscle lining my arms and legs, and even my ass has rounded.

Most days, I still struggle with looking in the mirror and seeing something beautiful like I used to. Not because of how I look, but how I feel. In my eyes, my body is stained with dirty handprints, and no amount of scrubbing will set me free of them.

I let Francesca drop to the floor, her head cracking into the checkered tile. Sweat lines my hairline, and I take a moment to catch my breath.

Francesca and Rocco will assume that Zade will quickly torture and kill them. But that’s where they’re wrong. I have far grander plans in mind. Not just for them, but for Xavier Delano, too.

He’s been hiding away on his private island with a mini army surrounding him, but Zade has gotten word that he has an L.A. trip planned at the end of the month. The island isn’t far off the West Coast, and it’ll only be a two-hour flight, but it’s still impossible to hide a big black jet from air traffic control. Not unless he wants to risk flying nose-first into another plane and come crashing right back down in several pieces.

That would be fucking embarrassing.

So, until we get our hands on Xavier, Francesca and Rocco will be hanging out with the ghosts in the basement. It was finished when I renovated Parsons Manor, but it’s still creepy as fuck down there.

When Sibby spots our new arrivals, she jumps up and down excitedly.

“They smell positively rotten,” she shouts, curling her lip in disgust. Pointing to Rocco, she says, “That one smells like rotten eggs. And the other smells like a rotten pumpkin.”

Mine and Zade’s eyes clash, a what the fuck look on both of our faces.

“Pumpkin?” he mouths silently with confusion. I shrug, too exhausted to give a shit. Most of this day has been spent traveling, and I'm ready for bed.

“Sibby, get her legs. We’ll carry her down together,” I direct.

She turns around and speaks to one of her henchmen. “You guys are bathing their stench off me later.”

“Oh my God,” I say, turning my gaze back to Zade’s. “I’m going to have to give the tub a bath tomorrow.”

He shakes his head, appearing disturbed. “Use holy water. Lots of holy water.”

Chapter

31

The Diamond

I fucking hate turbulence.