Chapter FourteenACACIA RETREATED AND PUT HER HAND on the door handle.
“All I ask is a moment of your time.” Monsieur Breckman remained by the windows.
“You’re stalking me.” She cast him an accusatory look.
“Far from it.” He gestured to a chair, but Acacia refused to take it.
“Who are you?”
“Nicholas Cassirer.” He stepped toward her and extended his hand.
She spurned it.
“We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” He lowered his voice. “I regret this.”
“You changed your name. And your appearance.” She gestured to his face, which was now bearded. His scar had been covered, presumably with some kind of prosthetic that blended into his beard. His dark hair was combed differently.
“I’m still scarred.” He gazed at her coolly. “I just choose to cover it on occasion.”
Acacia had to fight the u
