Aria stepped off the subway and emerged onto the streets in a touristy area of Paris near the catacombs. She tried to be observant as she followed the directions on her phone to the cafe she’d chosen to meet Primo. She wanted to trust him, but even if he was still on her side there was no guarantee he wasn’t being followed by Malcolm or Anastos.

She hadn’t seen anything untoward as she left the hotel, but she knew it was more likely she might be ambushed once she reached the cafe. She trusted Damian and knew if he’d installed them at the Ritz it meant that he thought she was safe there, but there was a reason he’d told her to take Cole if she wanted to leave.

Outside of the hotel, she was on her own.

She felt bad about meeting Primo in secret. She owed Damian everything.

More than that, she was in love with him.

She’d known as soon as she’d stepped into his arms on the landing in Athens that she was home. She hadn’t told him, but it was as true as anything she’d ever known, which made her betrayal all the more excruciating to bear.

It’s temporary, she told herself. I’ll tell him tonight, after Primo agrees to sell his territory and hand over information on Malcolm and Anastos.

There would have been no point telling him last night when they’d explored the city hand in hand. It would have been equally pointless to tell him this morning before he’d left for the cyber lab. He would only try to stop her, and she already knew Primo wouldn’t meet with anyone but her.

If she wanted to end this, if she wanted to get Primo out alive and insure that his territory was sold to Damian instead of Malcolm or Anastos, this was the only way.

She wasn’t well-versed in this kind of meeting. She realized now that she’d remained purposefully oblivious in New York. She’d known Primo sometimes had her followed, but there had seemed no point keeping tabs when she’d believed Primo was looking out for her.

She was woefully unprepared to spot any covert action on the part of Malcolm, but she nevertheless approached the cafe on the corner with caution, surreptitiously looking for anyone who might be marking her.

Everything seemed fine. She’d chosen the area intentionally, knowing it would be populated by tourists visiting the nearby catacombs. The neighborhood was fairly far from the hotel, requiring more than one subway, something she’d thought could work to her advantage if she were followed.

Now there was nothing to do but meet with Primo and do her best to lead him to safety.

She stepped into the shadowed recesses of a cafe not unlike the ones she and Damian had ducked into during their exploration of the city. There was a long counter on one side of the small room. Several small tables dotted the other side.

She spotted Primo immediately at the back of the room.

She froze for a moment, working to remove her scarf as she took in his sallow skin, the suit that had been custom tailored to fit and now hung on his too-thin frame.

When she’d composed her face into what she hoped was an expression of placid acceptance, she made her way toward him.

His eyes followed her as she approached. He stood to greet her, his jerky movements indicating that he was in the throes of a manic episode that would require her to remain calm and steady in the face of what would likely be erratic behavior.

“Bella, thank god,” he said when she reached the table. He stepped around it, folded her into an embrace. She closed her eyes, allowing herself this one moment to be grateful — grateful he was still alive, grateful she was alive to meet him in Paris after all that had happened. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m all right.” She pulled away and took a seat across from him. “How are you?”

He shook his head, drained the coffee in his cup and lifted an arm to the waitress behind the counter.

“Do you want coffee?” he asked.

Just watching him made her want to switch to herbal tea, but she nodded anyway, her words stuck in her throat.

He raised two fingers in the air and they waited as a dark haired waitress with thick black eyeliner served them coffee. Primo waited for her to leave to speak again.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Why haven’t you called?”

She stuffed down her anger. “I couldn’t call. I told you, I was being held prisoner by Malcolm, by Stefano Anastos, remember?”

He nodded, his head bobbing frantically like a marionette controlled by unseen hands. “Right, yes. I remember. But why didn’t you call sooner? Right when you got away?”

Her head was spinning, the events of the past two months colliding with the image of her brother in front of her, nervous and very, very sick. She tried to focus on the reason for her visit.

“I called as soon as I could,” she said. “Let’s talk about the New York territory.”

His expression grew stormy. “The territory… Is that all you care about, bella? Did he put you up to this?”

Primo’s emphasis on the word “he” told her all she needed to know about his feelings regarding Damian. She would have to tread carefully. Primo didn’t let go of wrongs easily — real or perceived. Her betrayal of Primo when she’d left New York with Damian would be fresh in his mind.

She forced her voice calm, reached across the table to touch his arm. “This has nothing to do with Damian. You said on the phone that you wondered if it was too late to sell him the territory. Don’t you remember?”

He yanked his hand away, his expression turning petulant. “Of course, I remember.”

“It’s a smart idea.” Stroking Primo’s ego was one of many methods she’d devised over the years to bring him around when his paranoia got the best of him, when he began to see enemies in every corner, when he began to think even she was his enemy. “Damian is determined to take the territory. He’s working with other powerful men — men who have unending resources, Primo. We’re not equipped to fight them off.”

She’d lumped herself in with him intentionally. She was less connected to his business than ever, but he needed to see her as an ally, needed to believe that she was still on his side.

In many ways, it was true; she was on his side. She wanted him to make it out of this mess with the Syndicate — with Damian.

With Malcolm.

Because whether Primo realized it or not, he was in trouble with Malcolm. It had always been inevitable, but now that Malcolm was working with Stefano Anastos, it couldn’t be denied. Malcolm was using Primo’s discord with Damian to make his move for the territory. He was smart enough to know this was his last shot. Once Damian took the territory for the Syndicate, it would be too late.

“You don’t know what I’m equipped for anymore.” He took a nervous slug of coffee. “You don’t know.”

Her throat constricted. She was the only one in his world who cared enough to try and save him. He was surrounded by luxury, by men who had pledged their loyalty to him, but it was a world built on artifice.

A paper world that would crumble at the first strong wind — and the wind was already blowing. He just didn’t know it yet.

She tried to change tactics. “We always knew this was temporary, Primo. You said so when it started, remember? You told me that you were going to capitalize on the vacuum of power in New York, that you were going to make our fortune and get out, that you were only doing it so we never had to worry about money again.” She forced herself to smile at him, forced herself to play his game one more time. “You were right. We made so much money, Primo. We can leave New York now and go anywhere, do anything.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You would go with me? You would leave him to come with me?”

“Of course. We’re family.”

It was painful to lie to him, but it wasn’t the first time she’d been forced to do it. When Primo was on a rant, there was nothing to do except to pacify him, to tell him whatever was necessary to get him to the other side where he would be more reasonable. Most of the time he wouldn’t remember the things he’d said, the things he’d demanded, and she was never in a hurry to remind him.

She just needed to get him through this episode, get him to agree to hand over the territory. Then she could talk to Damian and work on getting Primo the help he needed.

He studied her.

“You lie, bella. I know you, and you’re lying. You want to stay with him.”

She didn’t try to defend herself. It never worked when he was like this.

“I’m trying to help you, Primo.”

“Prove it,” he said, his voice steely. “Come back with me.”

Panic welled inside her at the thought of leaving with Primo, at the thought of being taken away from Damian. She forced herself to stay calm. She was in a public place, and Primo was in no condition to force her to go with him.

Still, this had been a mistake. She wasn’t going to get through to Primo in his current state. He was too far gone. The most she could do was plant the seed and hope he considered it after they parted ways.

She reached for her scarf and wound it around her neck. “These are dangerous men, Primo,” she said. “They’re going to take back New York one way or another. Think about it. I’ll be in touch.”

She stood to leave and was surprised by the strength of his grip on her wrist.

“You don’t walk away from me, bella. Not ever. I say when we’re done talking.”

She turned to face him, had to force herself not to flinch in the face of the rage playing on his face. Primo in his fury-filled incarnation had become her boogeyman. It had long been the thing she ran from, the thing she hid from, the thing that had the most control over her.

No more.

She’d been to hell and back. Had dodged bullets in Capri and been dragged away from the man she loved in the night. She’d been locked up and beaten, forced to fear for her life.

She’d survived, and now she knew Damian was right: she was stronger than she realized.

She’d been strong all along.

“Get your hand off me, Primo.” She was surprised by the coldness in her voice. “Now.”

He blinked and let go.

“You don’t get to touch me anymore,” she said. “You don’t get to bully me anymore. I’m here because you’re my brother, because I love you, But love isn’t supposed to hurt, Primo. I know that now.”

She did. She knew it because of Damian.

“Bella, wait…” Desperation had crept back into Primo’s voice.

“Think about what I said, Primo. I’ll be in touch.”

She walked out of the cafe, tears stinging her eyes. Was it possible to be both strong and sad? To love someone and be determined not to let them hurt you?

Yes, she decided.

Yes.