Richard laughs. "No doubt. My nephew has always preferred operating independently, keeping family at a convenient distance unless specifically required."
"My uncle has business in Chicago this week," Gage interject. "He'll be staying at the Peninsula rather than here at the estate."
"Will you be attending our wedding, Mr. Blackwood?" I ask.
"Richard, please." He smiles. "And yes, I wouldn't miss my only nephew's marriage. Though the invitation arrived surprisingly late, considering the significance of the occasion."
"Last-minute international travel can be challenging," I observe. "How long will you be in Chicago?"
"Through the wedding, at minimum." Richard accepts the drink Gage offers with practiced ease. "Perhaps longer, depending on how certain business matters resolve."
"Penelope has had a full day of wedding preparations," Gage says, the subtle dismissal clear in his tone. "Perhaps weshould continue this conversation tomorrow, when everyone is refreshed."
Richard smiles, seemingly unperturbed by his nephew's attempt to end the interaction. "Of course. I'm sure we'll have ample opportunity to become acquainted before the ceremony. Perhaps you might join me for lunch tomorrow, Penelope? I'd love to hear more about your background in floral design."
The invitation might result in restricted freedoms if mishandled.
"That would be lovely," I reply before Gage can intervene, taking calculated risk. "Though my schedule is quite full with wedding preparations."
"I'm sure Gage can spare you for an hour or two," Richard says smoothly, the presumption deliberate. "Family connections should be nurtured, particularly before such significant occasions."
Gage's expression remains controlled, but the tension in his shoulders increases noticeably. "I'll have Victor arrange transportation," he says after a pointed pause. "Assuming Peninsula at noon?"
"Perfect." Richard finishes his drink, setting the glass aside with practiced ease. "I won't keep you any longer this evening. The car service is waiting."
He takes my hand again, the gesture courtly rather than condescending. "A pleasure meeting you, Penelope. I look forward to our conversation tomorrow."
When he's gone, the study remains silent for long moments. I wait, observing Gage.
"My uncle's visit was unexpected," he says finally, moving to refill his glass. "His attendance at Violet's wedding would be inappropriate. I'll arrange alternative activities for Saturday."
"He seems interested in establishing a connection before our wedding," I observe neutrally.
"Richard's interests rarely align with their apparent objectives." Gage's tone carries unusual edge, the control slightly frayed by his uncle's appearance. "Tomorrow's lunch will proceed as arranged."
"I understand," I say simply. "Will that be all for this evening?"
He studies me. "The sapphire bracelet would be appropriate for tomorrow's lunch. More subtle than the emeralds, better suited to daytime engagement."
"Of course," I agree. "Good night, Gage."
CHAPTER 12
The darkness swallows me whole. I'm running down an alley that stretches endlessly before me, my lungs burning with each desperate breath. Footsteps echo behind me, gaining ground no matter how fast I push myself. The weight of fear presses against my chest, making each inhale more painful than the last.
"Just hand over your necklace," a voice growls from the shadows. "And no one gets hurt."
But I know it's a lie. I know what comes next.
I spin around, facing my pursuer, but instead of the mugger, it's Victor standing there, his expression cold and calculating as he raises a gun.
"Nothing personal, Miss Everett," he says, the barrel gleaming in the dim light. "Just business."
The crack of the gunshot jolts through me, but there's no pain. Instead, I watch as a man crumples to the ground before me, blood pooling around his head like a grotesque halo. I can feel the warm spray across my face, taste the metallic tang on my lips.
"Package secured," Victor says into his wrist communication device, his voice distant and professional. "Bringing her in now."
Hands reach for me from all directions, faceless men in black suits dragging me toward a waiting vehicle. I try to scream, but no sound comes out. I struggle against their grip, but my limbs are leaden, useless.
