The man introduces himself. “I’m Angelo Russo, Mr. Bianchini’s attorney.” He reaches in his pocket and removes three envelopes. “It’s my honor, Ms. Stradivari, to present you with a message from your father.”
Adrenaline and emotions storm my entire body. With a trembling hand, I reach for the envelope and glance at my name written in my father’s script. I look at Kace and he holds one up as well. “I haven’t opened it.”
“Do that alone, when you can fully digest it,” Donelle says. “We have one for Gio as well. Can you give it to him?”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, of course.”
The attorney hands it to me and I accept it.
“There’s a few more things to attend to,” Donelle sates. “You have an inheritance my dear. I was named as executor. I’ve invested your money well, I believe. It’s a substantial amount of money.”
Mr. Russo speak up. “I have the paperwork, but you don’t need to come to my office. I want to keep you safe, after all. We can do everything by phone.” He offers me a card. “I wrote the figure on the back. There’s the same amount is escrow for your brother.”
I turn the card over and gasp. “Oh my God.” I show it to Kace.
His lips turn up, eyes lighting. “Now you can stop worrying about how much money I spend.”
He’s right. I can, but right now. I’m reeling. It’s not real, and even if it is it’s because my father is gone. “I’m speechless,” I confess. “I’m—well my head is spinning right now.”
“Of course it is, dear,” Donelle says. “Mine is a bit as well. I’d given up on finding you before I die. I’d decided that I urgently needed to meet Kace and decide if he could take my role as your executor, your father was quite taken by him, but I didn’t dare trust him until I met him. And then you called and you were with him.”
“Even then,” Mr. Russo states, “we didn’t know it was absolutely you. We needed an in-person meeting to ensure this felt right. Giving Mr. August a letter and asking him, and entrusting him, to take over as your executor are two different things. Mr. Bianchini has taken great pride to being the protector of your father’s messages and your money. We do apologize for being so cryptic about our delivery of all of this.”
My head is spinning all over again. “Thank you, Donelle. I don’t know how to say thank you.”
He begins to cough and cough some more before he says, “I know you’ve been running, Aria. I hope there is something in your father’s words that allows you to stop running. Oh and one more thing. A big thing.” He motions to Mr. Russo.
Mr. Russo walks to the table against a wall just to his right and pulls a cover off a violin case. “The Fetzer.”
“It’s yours, Kace,” Donelle states. “Aria’s father told me that no one else was worthy of playing it. But he wanted to know that you took what was given to you and handled it with honor. He left that decision in my hands. In fact, I was only to give you your letter, if I found that honor in you. Otherwise I was to give an alternate letter to Aria. I’d say Aria’s obvious love for you is a testament to that honor.”
Kace inhales and lower his chin to his chest, before he bows slightly. “Thank you. I will try to live up to that praise.”
“Play for me,” he pleads. “I have always wanted to hear you play that Fetzer. I knew the day I did I’d be ready to meet my maker.” He glances at me. “And your father again.”
Tears well in my eyes, and Kace walks to the violin. He lifts it and begins to play “Toccata,” just as he had for my father, just as Donelle had requested on the phone. I go down on my knees beside Donelle and hold his hand, tears streaming own my cheeks. It’s as if I’m with my father, at least, in spirit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
It’s an hour later when Kace and I exit Donelle’s home with our unread notes in hand. “I want to go to our room and read them alone,” I say when we climb into the vehicle with Adrian.
Kace’s arm slides around me. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Fifteen minutes later, Kayden and Ella meet us in the main foyer of the castle. Ella squeezes my arm. “We’re here when you’re ready for us.”
I hug her and Kayden, too, and then Kace and I head upstairs to our room. Once we’re there, we sit down on the oversized chair by the fire and Kace pours me a glass of wine. I eagerly drink from the glass. “Why am I so nervous?”
“Because it’s the last conversation you will ever have with your father.”
“Do you think he left us the formula?”
“No. I don’t. We know it’s in pieces. We know he wanted you to have his journal.”
“But why the journal and the notes? Maybe the notes were in case the journal didn’t make it to me?”
“You won’t know if you don’t open it,” he says.
“Can you go first?” He opens his envelope and begins to read, and I watch the emotions roll over his face before he hands it to me, his eyes glossed over. “He was the father I wished I had. Read it.” He stands and walks to the fireplace, resting a palm on the mantel, and staring down at the flames, affected.
Steeling myself for the emotions sure to follow, I unfold it and read:
Kace,
The one true daisy in the wind. No one has ever played with your skill and passion, with your understanding of the Stradivarius. Those weeks with you, enjoying your talent, were magical. In your eyes, I saw your character and your pain. Your parents never understood the treasure you are and for that, I hurt for you. But know this, I did. And for this reason, I’ve shared something of me, and what I cherish with you, in our song. I hope one day you understand just how special writing it with you was to me.
I also ask of you a favor. Please look out for my daughter. Check on her. She is a kindred soul, a lover of the Stradivarius, and she will need someone who knows how important her name is to history. She is faced with great challenges, and with great challenges, one needs great friends. I believe we were fast and great friends.
Play hard, and passionately, my boy. The beauty within you is a gift.
Your friend,
—Alessandro
Tears are streaming down my face and I down my wine. “He loved you.”
Kace turns to face me. “He was a special man.” He sits down next to me again. “Are you ready?”
“Yes and no, but I need to do this.” I inhale and open the envelope.
My dear daughter,
If you are reading, this I have not had the pleasure of watching you grow into the woman I always knew you would be. You are my light in a dark, stormy sea, always there to make me remember to love and live. I wonder if you will grow up with a violin in your hand or will you simply rule the world the way you did mine. You always had your nose in everything and an opinion, too. I see a leader in you. I see dreams in your eyes, too, and a love for music. Oh, how I wish I would have seen how that came together, what you did with those things.
Your brother didn’t share your love for music, but he’s brave and adventurous and I envy him. I believe you might as well. Don’t forget to follow his lead and explore the world. Because he will. And he should. He will see my trust in you and in another as me not trusting him. That other person is Kace August. As for my trust in Gio, I do trust him. I trust in the soul of that boy and his soul tells me that he cannot be held down by rules and demands. I give to each of you what you desire and for him, that is freedom. For you, I install the greatest of responsibility. I don’t know if my journal will ever make it to you, and truth be told, in it are the ramblings of my creative mind. I’ll ma
ke this simple: the formula is written nowhere. It’s in my mind as it was my in father’s. Your mother feared you and Gio ever having the formula, but it is our namesake, our responsibility to protect it.
As I write this, you are too young to memorize the formula and there are greedy people who want it and who would take what is not theirs to take. I’ve given you a piece of the puzzle and Kace the other piece. Our secret is protected simply by the fact that Kace doesn’t know what he holds. If you decide to go to him and decode the messages I’ve left you both, I have confidence that you’ll figure out the puzzle. I know you’ll keep our legacy safe. But before you move forward, remember this: deny the formula exists and protect its existence.
I love you, Aria. My angel. My light.
—Dad
I lower the letter, my face streaked with tears, and I sob. “Read it,” I whisper, handing it to Kace.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He accepts the letter and reads it while I try to slow my tears. When he’s done, he pulls me into his arms and holds me, just holds me. And it’s exactly what I need from him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The next morning, we talk to Blake for an hour, telling him everything about well, everything. Right before we hang up, he says, “By the way, Nancy is handled. She cried and apologized. She said that Alexander just wanted her to make sure he was fed information about you two. Where you were going and what you were doing.”
I want to ask about Alexander, but I can practically taste Kace’s discomfort in the air. He expects my question and he silently resists it. We clearly need to have that talk he promised me, but after all that happened yesterday, I resist going down a dark path today. I think I’ll wait until after my big name reveal. And so I say, “Thank you, Blake. For everything.”
We end the call and Kace glances at his messages and then me. “Kayden and Ella want us to join them for breakfast.”