Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

I laughed. “Wait until you see what Rosa and Kyle have whipped up for dinner.”

Ethan went in the direction of the reception. I lingered in the foyer, awaiting our final guest. I should have had my own glass of eighteen-hundred-dollar champagne in-hand, because I was suddenly wracked with nervous anxiety.

How, exactly, did one break the kind of news I had to break to Mikaela Madsen?

Visions of her slapping me Joan Collins/Dynasty–style flashed in my mind. I could almost hear Mikaela saying—out of heart-wrenching agony because she couldn’t accept the reality of my words—How could you be so cruel, Ari? How could you blatantly lie to me about something that has tormented me for so long?

My throat tightened. She’d be right in the accusation, even though it’d never been my intention to keep this from her—it’d been a necessity. Imperative. Out of my hands.

Would she understand that?

I wrung my hands now as I paced the wide hallway, my tall black heels clicking on the heated stone floor. The elegant chandeliers lining the long corridor and vast entryway were on a low setting. The cut-crystal-and-glass adornments caught the light and cast glittery rays over the silvery-blue hue filling the house. There was a large fireplace in the foyer, with roaring flames to take the edge off the autumn chill. The crackle lent a soothing quality.

Dane preferred gas fireplaces in every other room, but at the point of entry this wood-burning one created a very homey, inviting ambience to the otherwise expansive house. I wanted Mikaela to feel welcomed. I wanted her to understand that she hadn’t been excluded from our clandestine efforts because she was any less important than the others in our circle. Circumstance alone had dictated who learned of Dane’s existence. And when.

As I rationalized this in my mind, the vibrato chimes echoed in the hallway. I jumped, since I’d been deep in thought and the sound caught me off-guard. It wasn’t a normal occurrence for people to come knocking on our door. We were set way back in the woods, along the creek, extremely difficult to find.

But everyone currently in the house had our gate code because they had reason to come and go from our inner sanctum. Mikaela would have that right now as well. Dane trusted her and so, too, did I.

I pulled open the door and was instantly enveloped in a rich aroma that nearly hypnotized me, except that Mikaela was so stunning, the sight of her overpowered the scent of her.

“Wow,” I said. “You take cocktail reception attire to all-new levels.”

“Ah, Ari.” She affectionately gave air-kisses to both cheeks. “Ciao, bella. Emerald is your color!”

“I’m pretty fond of it.” I ushered her in and carefully slipped the full-length fur coat from her shoulders. “That dress is sensational.” In fact, it looked straight out of Dynasty. That didn’t bode well for me, did it? I’d streamed a few seasons, and the diamonds dripping from Mikaela backed up my assessment. Her gown was liquid gold, clingy with strategic cutouts. Heidi Klum herself couldn’t have worn it better.

“Rosa always did like formal gatherings,” Mikaela mused in her Italian accent. I had yet to discern how she’d so quickly acquired it, since she’d been born and raised in Philadelphia, “next door” to Dane. According to my husband, that meant miles away, given the size of their respective estates.

“More like cocktail formal, but whatever. You’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.” Her gaze slid over me. “You’ve lost weight.”

The last time she’d seen me, I’d been pregnant. Not noticeably pregnant, but definitely plump. I thought of how Dane had admired the curves and knew he preferred them to the stick figure I’d been when I’d thought he was dead and I couldn’t keep anything down.

Thinking of that time made my brain churn with harrowing Lux thoughts and brought the anxiety back full force when it came to squaring up with Mikaela.

I asked, “Would you mind joining me in the study for a drink?”

“Of course not.” She beamed. But as we walked toward the center of the house, her vibrancy dimmed. “You know, I haven’t been in Dane’s home in years. Not since he broke ground on the Lux. He, Ethan, Qadir, and Nik celebrated. I happened to be in town and got to hear all of Dane’s grandiose plans for the resort. See the schematics.”

A flicker of pain over her delicate features made my insides roil.

“I was so proud of him,” she continued, “for building his dream. And so happy that he never let anything hold him back. I’d always respected that about him.”

She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a French-manicured fingertip and that nearly made me burst into tears.

Oh, God. How was I going to handle the big reveal in the most humane way, without her thinking I was some sort of monster for keeping Dane’s existence from her?

I’d insisted I be the one to tell her. To share the news gently with her. If Dane just strutted into the room, all perfectly intact and hotter than ever, she’d likely hit the floor like a ton of bricks. I know I would have done the same the first time I saw him after the explosion, had I not figured out on my own that he was alive.

We couldn’t just spring this on Mikaela. I had to ease her into the reality of the situation. Especially since she knew nothing of the Illuminati and Dane’s role in the secret poli-econ society.

This would blow her mind, I knew.

So I headed straight for the wet bar and poured her a snifter of brandy. I handed over the Baccarat glass, steeling my nerves as she sipped.

It took me a few minutes to collect myself, but I finally said, “I’m so glad you came. But I guess you’re wondering why I’m here. Why Rosa is hosting a reception at Dane’s house.”