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Back on my regular schedule and it feels so nice! You know I love you guys. Speaking of which… if you have children – or nieces or nephews or kids that you teach (of pretty much any age), you NEED to check out Usborne books. My son is OBSESSED (and so am I, to be honest). Reading is so important. If you need any recommendations, let me know – always feel free to PM me. Anyways…

I know, I know… they're engaged! It's so exciting. But… unfortunately, it's not the end of their story. In fact, it's really just the beginning. I'm getting down to the last little bit of the story and I wanted to pose a question to all of you: should I write a sequel, or just make a part two and keep posting to this story? Please take a vote.

Thank you to all of you that have read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this story (and me!). I appreciate you all more than you could ever know.

Happy Reading (and don't forget to vote!)!

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Chapter Twenty-Seven: Never Forget

Steve

As soon as I walked into the Five-O offices on Monday, I was met with a loud chorus of "surprise!" There were gold balloons everywhere and the team stood at the large screen, smiling. In front of them was a cake with 'congratulations' written on it.

"I'm guessing that Danny spilled?" I said with a smile, not even mad. Sure, he had almost ruined my proposal, but it had all turned out all right in the end. I'd even asked him to be my best man.

Kono and Chin gave me hugs and congratulated me personally.

"Where's Allie?" Kono asked. "I want to see the ring."

I grabbed the knife and began to cut into the cake, pleased to see that it was chocolate and the frosting – after a verified taste test – was buttercream. "She had a doctor's appointment this morning. It's time for her yearly physical."

"Oh, I need to schedule mine," Chin said with a low curse. "I hate going to the doctor."

"Physicals aren't bad," Kono said and then looked back to me. "What time is her appointment?"

I looked at my watch. 9:10. "Right now. She should be done pretty soon. How long do physicals take?"

"You should know," Danny replied and took his turn cutting into the cake. "You have to get physicals, too."

"I usually just get a note whenever I go in with an injury." It was easier that way.

"Ah," Danny said, "which would be all the time. I don't know, they usually take about half an hour. If the nurse isn't Chatty Cathy like my last nurse was." He regaled us with the tale, even though none of us had asked him to and actually probably would have preferred that he didn't.

Just as he finished up his story, an HPD officer walked in with two men trailing behind him. The men were both dressed very well, but one was obviously more superior than the other. He had the appearance and air of a man that made a lot of money and knew what he was worth. He looked European – Italian, maybe – and his companion looked the same. His dark hair was slicked back stylishly and his eyes were dark and… cold.

"Commander McGarrett," the officer said once they'd drawn close. "These two men are here to see Officer Rhodes. They said that they're old friends and they need her help."

"Officer Rhodes had an appointment this morning," I said, and I could feel the wariness from my team. They were also suspicious of these men. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"No, I'm sorry," the man said. Even his voice carried an air of authority. He was obviously used to getting his way. "I'm afraid I must speak with Officer Rhodes as soon as she gets in."

"Let's back up a second." I didn't like this guy, but I planned to tread carefully. I stepped forward and offered my hand, noting how the other guy seemed to tense just a little bit at my movement. A bodyguard, then – just as I'd suspected. "Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett. And this is the rest of my team – Detective Danny Williams, Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly, and Officer Kono Kalakaua."

He shook my hand and I saw the flash of a watch that was worth four months of my salary. Maybe more. "I appreciate your manners, Commander McGarrett. I am Nicolas Medici." He didn't introduce his bodyguard, but that was typical among the very rich. Bodyguards were hardly people – they were just there. Easily replaced.

I nodded to the HPD officer to indicate that I could take over and then told Nicolas, "I don't know when Allie will be back. But there are some chairs right over there; you're welcome to wait. Can I get you some coffee?"

He laughed, though nothing that I'd said had sounded funny to me. "No, thank you, Commander. I mean no offense, but I only drink freshly brewed Italian espresso. I had some before I left my hotel room this morning."

I would never understand pompous rich people. "Of course. Well, let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you." He moved for the chairs and while he sat down in one, elegantly folding his long frame in, his bodyguard did not. Instead, he stood nearby, ever watchful. When his boss began to make some calls – in Italian, of course – he didn't even flinch. He was trained very well.

"Look this guy up," I said softly to Kono, who nodded and disappeared into her own office.

The rest of us milled around the large screen, looking at some recent cases to see if there was one we might be interested in. I was having a hard time focusing, however, as I kept stealing glances at Medici.

He seemed perfectly at ease as he talked on the phone, sometimes chuckling and sometimes serious. People like him – people with a lot of money to burn – often acted like there wasn't a place that they didn't fit in. It was an air of confidence that they wore like armor.

"Here," Kono said about ten minutes later and slid a piece of paper in front of me.

Chin and Danny leaned in to read with me.

Nicolas Medici was a very rich Italian businessman that had suspected ties to the Sicilian Mafia. Whether he was a leader or he just performed jobs for them, no one knew. But Interpol had been watching him very closely, even pinging his arrival in Hawaii. They didn't have anything solid on him yet, but he was suspected of a lot of different things.

"What's this guy's connection to Allie?" Danny asked me once he'd finished reading.

"I'm not sure." I looked up at Medici again and found him typing away on his phone, oblivious to everything else around him. He didn't need to be aware; he had a bodyguard to do that for him.

Before I could tell Chin to warn Allie, she walked through the door, looking as gorgeous as ever in dark jeans, a gray tee, and black boots. She'd spent more time on her makeup than normal, and her blue eyes were bright, casting a glow on her face. Her dark hair was up in a cute messy bun.

She smiled at us as she approached. "Hey, guys. Sorry the appointment took so long, I-" And then she froze as her eyes took in the two men in the corner. Her expression changed to one of surprise, but also one of recognition. Somehow, she knew this guy.

He had seen her come in and smiled as he stood and approached, acting as if he was greeting a very old friend. "It's so good to see you, passerotta."

"Nicolas." Allie's greeting could best be described as 'cordial'. She seemed neither happy, nor upset at seeing him. When he took her hands, she did the typical European thing of kissing both cheeks. "This is a surprise."

"I knew that it would be," he told her, still smiling as if he was the happiest man on earth to be talking to her. "You look bellissima, passerotta. The island has done you some good."

"Gratzie," she replied.

He said something in Italian that I tried to translate, but it had been so long since I'd spoken the language. It had been something about how glad he was to see her.

"What can I do for you?" Allie asked, not in Italian, even though it was one of the languages that she spoke fluently.

"I could use some advice," he said. "Some help, really. Would you allow me to buy you lunch? We have much to catch up on."

Allie considered it for a moment and then nodded, giving a small smile. "Of course. As long as you're buying."

"A gentleman always pays, passerotta," he laughed. "I shall meet you downstairs, yes?"

Allie nodded and Medici told us all that it had been a pleasure to meet us. Then, he disappeared and I looked to Allie. "Who is that guy?"

She seemed surprised. "He didn't introduce himself? He usually prides himself on his impeccable manners."

"He did," I said and waved the paper that Kono had printed off. "We looked him up. How do you know him?"

She sighed. "He's an old family friend."

I froze. "Please tell me your family doesn't have connections to the Sicilian Mafia."

She laughed. "No. We're not involved with anything like that. But Nicolas and my mother were close friends. I'm sure he just wants to catch up and talk about art or something."

"Maybe you shouldn't go."

She gave me a look. "It'll be fine. Don't worry. We'll have lunch, talk, and then I'll be right back here. Okay?"

I still didn't want her to go, but I knew that Allie could take care of herself. And she wouldn't have told me not to worry if she thought there was something to be concerned about. He probably really was just an old friend of her father's. "Okay. Fine. How was your physical?"

Confusion clouded her expression and then cleared as quickly as it had come. "Oh, it was good."

"Do you have your clearance paper?"

"Already sent it to the governor," she said. "Do you guys need me for anything else before I go?"

"Yeah," Kono said with a grin and came around the screen to give her a hug. "Congratulations."

"Oh," Allie laughed. "Thank you."

Kono admired the ring for a bit and then asked when the wedding was going to be.

"We just got engaged, Kono," I reminded her. "Give it some time."

"You don't have to wait long," Chin said. "Hawaii is the most beautiful place in the world to have a wedding and there are companies here that could throw something together in a few days."

"We'll think about it," Allie laughed and headed for the door. "See you guys in a bit!"

I watched her go and tried to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Allie

As promised, Nicolas and his bodyguard met me downstairs and then led me out to a beautiful black limo – only the best for Nicolas Medici.

"Please," he told me as he gestured for me to slide in first, and I did so with ease. He came next, followed by the bodyguard, and then the limo began to move.

"Have you enjoyed your time in Hawaii?" I asked Nicolas, and he smiled pleasantly back at me.

"I have. It's a rather charming island. I might have to buy a vacation home here."

Please don't, I thought, but I didn't say that. Until I knew what he was doing here, I planned to be on my best behavior, best manners included. "It is rather lovely. You should try to get a house on the beach. You could remodel it to style it after your villa."

"You remember my villa." He sounded pleased. "You were only thirteen when you came to visit. It must have made an impression."

"It was lovely." And it truly had been. Every last detail had been perfect, and I'd dreamed of owning a home like that for many years afterward. Until I had figured out that I didn't want that kind of life.

"Well, a house on the beach in Hawaii would be a nice place to take a vacation, but nothing could beat the beauty of Italy." I hadn't realized that we had been speaking Italian until that sentence, but it didn't surprise me. I spoke Italian fluently and of course he would prefer to speak in his native tongue.

"Italy is a land of great beauty," I agreed.

He nodded to my lap, where my hands were delicately folded. "Congratulations on your engagement. Am I to assume that Commander McGarrett is the lucky groom?" At my surprised look, he said, "He seemed rather concerned with what I would want with you. It was the concern of a love. I assume that he looked me up?"

There was no sense in hiding it; he could find out the truth in a matter of days. "Yes. He proposed a couple of days ago."

"Congratulations." And he sounded like he genuinely meant it. "I do love a good love story. How did you two meet?"

"When I was placed on the task force."

"Ah, love at first sight?"

"No. He hated me at first."

That seemed to surprise him. "Why is that?"

"I had better sources on a couple of cases that we worked. And he couldn't figure me out. My past, I mean."

He nodded. "Understandable. And does he know about your past now?"

"Not all of it. Really not much before I turned eighteen."

"Also understandable." He sighed. "But, if I may, I'd like to offer a small piece of advice." When I didn't object, he continued. "When I married my wife, she knew nothing about the other side of my business. I thought that it was better that way. That she would be safer the less that she knew. I was wrong."

He was suddenly somewhere far away, and I remembered my father telling me that Nicolas' wife had been killed years ago by a rival of the Sicilian Mafia. He'd wanted information that his wife hadn't even had, and he had killed her when she couldn't give it to him. From the little that my father had told me, I knew that Nicolas had made the man pay many times over before he'd granted him the death that he begged for.

"That is why we do what we do," my father had told me sincerely. "There is a line that one should never cross. Do you understand?"

"My apologies," Nicolas said and cleared his throat. "It was not safer for her to not know. And I regret that every single day. Perhaps it would be wise for you to confess everything to your fiancé."

"I appreciate the advice," I told him carefully. "But it's just a piece of my past. I'm not involved with that stuff anymore. I haven't been for a long time. I went to the CIA, then the White Collar division of the FBI, then to the State Department, and then the bomb squad. And now, I'm here. And I have no intention of going back to all of that stuff. I'm happy with where I am."

He nodded but said nothing in response.

Within minutes, we were at a high-end seafood restaurant right on the beach and Nicolas offered me his hand to help me step out of the car. I did so, swaying slightly. Concerned, he asked me if I was feeling okay.

"I skipped breakfast," I admitted.

He smiled and gently took my elbow, leading me towards the door. "Ah, then this lunch will do you good."

He gave the hostess his name and we were immediately taken to a table in the back corner and given two menus. A waiter approached almost instantly and asked if we would like to start with a bottle of wine.

"I'm on duty," I said.

"Nonsense," Nicolas returned and looked over the wine list before choosing a rather expensive vintage. The whole bottle, of course.

"I really can't drink," I told him once the waiter had disappeared.

He sighed, but smiled. "Suit yourself. You don't mind if I do, do you?"

"Of course not." I smiled. "You're not under the same restrictions."

The waiter returned with the wine and poured some for Nicolas and then asked us if we were ready to order. Nicolas ordered for the both of us, somehow remembering that I was a sucker for shrimp alfredo. Salads and bread were delivered, and we each served ourselves.

"I must confess, Allie," he said after a few minutes of small talk, "I didn't just come here to catch up."

"I didn't think that you did."

"Of course not." He chuckled. "You've always been exceptionally smart. How could you not be, with parents like yours?"

"So, what did you come here for, then?"

"I need a favor."

That was surprising. "I'm not sure what I could possibly do for you. You know that me and my family have always respected the Sicilian Mafia, but we've never gotten involved."

"That's mostly true," he agreed.

"Mostly?" I couldn't recall a single time that I'd done any more than casually spoken to members of the mafia. I drew a blank.

"Your mother," he said, which was the last thing that I had expected to hear.

I pushed some lettuce around in the bowl, my good mood completely shot. "I haven't talked to my mother in years. As I'm sure you know, she left my father and all of us to go and pursue of her dreams of… well… not being a mother."

His expression was one of sympathy, which I almost hated. "I do know. Your father and your family have always been good friends of mine, and he confided in me shortly after your mother left. But you found her again, did you not?"

I wasn't even surprised that he knew. "Yeah. I tracked her down to New York City after the CIA. We didn't talk for long; I just wanted to know why she left. That's when she told me that she had chosen her work over her kids and her family. I haven't talked to her since. I try not to even think about her, to be honest."

"Betrayal by family is hard," he said. "Your mother… I knew her and your uncle very well growing up. Their father was friends with my father."

"I think she told me that, at some point." But I had no idea why he was bringing it up now.

"There was something special that my father owned – a music box. It's priceless and has been passed down in the Medici family for generations."

I was thoroughly confused. "A music box? I thought this was about my mother?"

"It is. She's the one that stole it from me."

I nearly choked on a tomato. Once I had regained my breath and taken a drink of water, I asked, "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Positive. There is footage of her taking it from my private collection not long before she abandoned your family. The work that she left to do was not with art authentication, but art theft."

That actually didn't surprise me one bit. "Why would she steal that music box?"

He waved a hand as if it was unimportant. "Perhaps my family didn't come by the music box honestly, but it was still very important to us. And it's worth… more than I can say."

"And… what?" I asked him. "You want me to find her and ask her to give it back? Like I said before, I haven't talked to her in years and I'd really rather not change that."

"Oh, no," he said. "I don't need you to find her and talk to her. I need you to go and get the box back."

"You know where it is?" When he nodded, I grew even more confused. "Then why don't you just go and buy it back? You have all the money in the world. Surely, you could make the owner an offer they can't refuse."

"The owner is the Kingsley Museum in Paris. And the music box is locked away in the archives."

"You don't need me to find the music box," I realized. "You need me to steal it."

"If anyone can, it's you. Your mother would have been a good choice, as well, had she not gone so completely off the grid several years ago."

I shook my head and put the fork down. "Nicolas… I don't do that kind of thing anymore. I told you that."

"Not even as a favor to me?" I couldn't read the expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," I told him and shook my head. "No. I'm sorry that my mother stole it, but I promise you that none of us knew anything about that."

"I believe you," he said. "Let us speak no more of it. We can just enjoy our lunch."

As if on cue, the waiter arrived with our food.

And though Nicolas did, indeed, turn the topic of conversation to something else, I had a feeling that the conversation was actually far from over.