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including any documents you find.  I’ll have my phone on me.”
    “You got it.  I don’t suppose the—er—inconvenient hour would entitle me to a bonus?”
    There it was:  the Cherbourg curse.  Everyone thought that because he had money, he should be willing to share it, whether they deserved it or not.  “Do what I hired you to do, you greedy bastard, before you start asking for more.”  He disconnected the phone. 
    Sébastien glanced back inside the vault to catch a glimpse of Ella.  She was wiping her face with the tails of her shirt. 
    He couldn’t help but hope her background check would come out clean, but he knew better than to trust someone who hadn’t grown up in the same world he had.  As Jake had just proved, people like Sébastien represented one thing and one thing only to them:  money.  That was what made it so difficult to trust any of them , as Amanda had so painfully proven. 
    But Sébastien’s ancestors hadn’t gotten where they were by being kind and loving.  They’d been hard men, slow to trust and quick to anger.  It had served them well in a world rocked by wars, revolutions and depressions.  I have to be more like them , he reminded himself.  I will guide this family the way they did—starting now.
    He strode back into the vault and pointed at Ella.  “Get your coat,” he said.  “We’re going for a ride.”

Chapter Four
    “Where are we going?” Ella asked as she picked up her coat from the floor. The dust it had gathered failed to dim the bright vermilion wool.  She shook it twice to fling off the worst of the dust and slipped it back on. 
    Sébastien grimaced.  “You can’t wear that.”
    “Oh, come on.”  Ella stopped dead in her tracks and looked from corner to corner of the vault in an exaggerated fashion.  “Do you see a women’s coat rack in here?  I’m all out of options, buddy.”  His patronizing look set her blood boiling.  “ I’m not a millionaire like you .  I don’t have a fur coat or a brocade opera cloak just hanging on a hook in my kitchen. ”
    He took her by the arm, like a mother with a misbehaving child.  “Come with me,” he said, practically dragging her out into the long, dark hallway outside the vault.  She knew better than to struggle against his vise-like grip .  She’d had no luck finding a bathroom earlier, so if she wanted out of here, it was best to let him show her the way.  She bit her lip and did the best she could to match his long stride.
    Sébastien pulled her through the hallway, never stopping once to turn on a light or find his way.  She was surprised by how steady his gait remained throughout their trek.  He seemed to know every inch of this belowground maze.  It didn’t seem to fit with the image she’d constructed for him in her mind.  Why would a spoiled, self-centered rich man’s son spend so much time underground, passing between a vault, a wine cellar , and the kitchens?  She knew that was where the passage emerged on the ground level .  I t was the starting point from which Yves had guided her earlier.  Before she could stop herself, she blurted out the question.  “How do you know where you’re going in the dark?”
    “It’s my house,” he said quickly.  “Why wouldn’t I know every step of it?” 
    “Where are you taking me?”
    “Upstairs.”
    “ I was hoping for a bit more specificity.”
    “Hope for less.  You won’t be so disappointed.”
    “You’re not very cheerful.  Or kind.  Or welcoming.”
    “Ms. Wilcox, I’ve just been robbed.  How do you think I should feel?”
    “Angry,” she said softly, remembering her father’s harsh words for the intruders to his workshop.  “You should feel angry.”
    But she didn’t have time to continue feeling sorry for herself.  Soon they reached a flight of wooden stairs and he thrust her up ahead of him.  She ascended as quickly as she could, heading for the door that would lead her back to daylight, or at