Chapter 445 - 445: 2 Days Left.

A few streets from where Viktor stood in Belgravia, Kyle pushed through the doors of the Lanesborough and let the warmth of the lobby wash over him.

He had taken the long way back. Through Regent's Park, down through Marylebone, across Hyde Park while the light turned soft and gold over the water. Almost three hours of walking. His legs ached. His face was raw from the wind.

His head was no clearer than when he had started.

The doorman nodded politely at him. Kyle nodded back and took the lift up to the Royal Suite.

The moment he opened the door, he heard it.

"No, no, no! You're doing it wrong!"

Jasmine stood in the middle of the living room with her hands on her hips. In front of her, on her knees on the rug, was Ella, holding the Hamleys bag and wearing an expression of deep suffering. Her red hair had been messed up until it stood out in every direction.

"I'm doing it exactly like you said," Ella protested.

"Anthony wouldn't say 'cool.' He'd say 'wicked.' He's British."

"Fine. Wicked." Ella pulled the boxed Wolverine out of the bag with zero enthusiasm. "Wow. Wicked. Thank you, Jasmine."

"With feeling!"

Kyle leaned against the doorframe and watched them. For the first time all day, something in his chest loosened. This trip had done more than one thing, it had certainly bonded these people.

Cassandra was the first to notice him. She was sitting by the window with Junior in her lap, and she looked up at him over the baby's head. She didn't say anything. She just held his gaze for a moment, then smiled softly and looked back down.

Jane came out of her room a second later. She saw him and stopped.

She didn't ask where he had been. She simply crossed the room, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held on.

After a moment, Kyle held her back.

"You're cold," Jane mumbled into his coat.

"I walked."

"From where?"

"Far."

She pulled back and looked up at him through her glasses, studying his face the way she did when she knew there was more he wasn't saying. Then she let it go.

"There's leftover pasta," she said. "I saved you some."

Ella snorted from the floor. "She saved you some because I physically stopped her from eating it."

"That's not true!"

"It's a little true."

Jane's cheeks went pink. Kyle laughed. It came out rusty, but it was real.

"Brother Kyle!" Jasmine had finally noticed him. She ran over and grabbed his hand. "You have to watch. I'm practicing for tomorrow."

"I saw. You're doing great."

"Ella's doing terrible."

"I'm doing my best," Ella said from the floor. "I'm a singer, not an actor."

Later, while Jasmine forced Ella through rehearsal number six, Kyle found Cassandra in the kitchen warming a bottle for Junior.

She didn't look at him when he came in. She just tested the milk on her wrist and said, quietly, "Did she choose?"

Kyle leaned back against the marble counter.

"She asked for time."

Cassandra nodded slowly. "That's a choice too."

"I know."

"Then give it to her." She turned and looked at him properly. "And stop carrying it like it's yours to fix. It isn't."

Kyle didn't answer. He didn't need to. Cassandra had already seen the answer on his face.

"There's something else," he said.

She waited patiently.

"I think it's time we went home."

Cassandra was quiet for a moment. Then she let out a breath, and her shoulders dropped in a way that told Kyle she had been waiting for him to say it.

"When?"

"Monday. After Tony's lunch tomorrow."

"Good." She lifted Junior a little higher against her shoulder. "He misses his crib. And I miss my kitchen. This one has too many buttons."

Kyle smiled. "You hate it here?"

"I love it here." Cassandra handed him the bottle and nodded toward the baby. "But it's not home. And you look like a man who needs to be home."

Kyle took Junior from her arms. The baby blinked up at him, grabbed his finger, and immediately started chewing on it.

"Yeah," Kyle said quietly. "I think I do."

He told the others over dinner that evening.

Room service had sent up enough food for twelve people, which meant it was almost enough for Jane. They sat around the long dining table, Jasmine on a stack of cushions, Junior asleep in his carrier by the window.

"Monday?" Ella set down her fork. "That's fast."

"We've been here almost two weeks," Kyle said. "The deal with Tony is done. Everything I came here to do is done."

That wasn't completely true. But it was true enough.

Ella studied him for a moment. Then she shrugged and picked her fork back up. "Fine. But I want to go to Camden before we leave. I'm not flying home without at least one new jacket."

"You have at least forty jackets."

"And none of them are from Camden."

Jane hadn't said anything yet. She was pushing a piece of roast potato around her plate, which for Jane was a sign of deep emotional distress.

"Jane?" Kyle asked gently.

"No, it's good," she said quickly. "I want to go home. I miss my bed and I miss work, even Marcus. Kind of." She looked down at her plate. "It's just... a lot of good things happened here."

Kyle knew exactly what she meant. A three-star restaurant. A quiet table. Three words he had never said to anyone before.

He reached over and took her hand under the table.

"Those things don't stay in London," he said. "They come home with us."

Jane's face turned red. Ella made a gagging noise. Cassandra kicked her under the table.

Jasmine, however, had gone very quiet.

"Jasmine?"

The little girl was staring at the Hamleys bag sitting on the chair beside her.

"If we go home on Monday," she said slowly, "then tomorrow is the last time I see Anthony."

The table went silent.

Kyle put his fork down. He turned in his chair so he was facing her properly.

"It's the last time this trip," he said. "Not forever. Tony's family is our family now. You can video call Anthony whenever you want. And next time they come to America, he can stay at our house."

Jasmine looked up at him. "Promise?"

"Promise."

She thought about it very seriously. Then she nodded and reached for the bag, pulling it into her lap and holding it tight.

"Then tomorrow has to be perfect," she announced.

Ella groaned. "Oh no. Rehearsal number seven."

After dinner, Kyle sat on the balcony with his laptop and booked the flights.

First class. Monday afternoon, Heathrow to Los Angeles. Six seats, so nobody would have to sit near a stranger and Junior would have room to scream if he wanted to.

He paid without looking at the total.

[Ding!]

[Spent $40,500. 50X Critical Hit! Earned $2,025,000! The money has been transferred to account XXX-XXX-XXX.]

[Spent at least $40,500 on beautiful ladies!]

Kyle closed the notification without a second glance. Two million dollars for three plane tickets. A year ago, that would have made him sit down on the floor. Now it barely registered.

He opened his messages instead.

He typed and deleted the first one three times before he was happy with it.

[[Kyle: I fly home on Monday. Nothing changes. My promise stays the same whether I'm here or not. Message me when you're ready. Or don't. It's your choice.]]

He stared at it for a long moment, then sent it to Maya.

No reply came. He hadn't expected one.

Then he opened his chat with Tony.

[[Kyle: Still on for lunch tomorrow?]]

The reply came almost instantly.

[[Tony: Of course! Michelina has been cooking since this morning. The children are fighting over who sits next to Jasmine.]]

[[Kyle: Good. There's something I should tell you first, so you hear it from me. We're flying home on Monday.]]

The dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

[[Tony: Monday?! Michelina will be devastated. Anthony will be worse.]]

[[Tony: Then tomorrow we make it a proper send-off. Bring your appetite. Tell Jane she is allowed thirds.]]

Kyle laughed out loud on the balcony.

[[Kyle: I'll tell her. She won't need permission.]]

[[Tony: Hahaha! Good night, my friend. See you tomorrow.]]

Kyle put the phone down and leaned back in the chair. Below him, London glittered under a sky that had finally cleared.

Viktor was still out there. Eleanor was still out there. Marcello was still waiting for proof Kyle had promised not to give.

He would deal with all of it before Monday. One loose end at a time. He had always been good at that. It was the only reason he was still alive.

Behind him, the balcony door slid open. Jane stepped out in one of his hoodies, the sleeves hanging past her hands, and sat down beside him without a word.

She rested her head on his shoulder.

His phone buzzed once on the table.

[[Maya: Thank you for not deciding for me.]]

Kyle read it twice. Then he turned the phone face down, put his arm around Jane, and let himself breathe.

One more day before he was back on familiar grounds.