Page 55 of Isle of Beauty

“If you want this to work, you need to let me help you. I’m not your father. I love him but I…” I gulp audibly. “We’re not our parents. We can shape the organisation how we want. I’m ready to listen, Lisandru. I know this life, it’s different from what you know but we’re not evil.”

“You kill people,” he says, deadpanned.

“I protect my family. And need I remind you that you actually helped last time I killed someone? Our moral compass might slightly differ from the general public but it’s always warranted. We protect our own. And you’re one of us now.”

He stays silent for a while before pressing his forehead to mine.

My heart throbs in my chest and I stay rooted in place, afraid if I breathe it’ll break this moment. He gently grazes his nose to mine before kissing my forehead softly. He looks like it hurts and satisfy him in equal measure.

Our bubble bursts when Julian opens the door. “Get a fucking room, you two!”

Behind him, Igor shoots me a mischievous wink. We break into laughter, sharing more in that single moment than we did in the past weeks and when we follow Julian inside the building, we’re both grinning like high-schoolers and I feel lighter than I have in weeks.

Our team counted every single package twice but I’m not taking any risk. Julian, Pierce and I set out to do it again one last time before giving the green light for the shipment to depart out of Sant Armellu Harbour tonight. The destination is Mallorca where Dominic is slowly but surely establishing his dominion over Garcia Hotel Management as new CEO, and making sure we keep our foothold on the island.

“Jules, Pierce, take the West and East front. I’ll be at the back with Igor. We’ll cover more ground like this.”

The warehouse isn’t large but it’s buzzing with people. The chaotic energy fills me with dread. Most of the men milling around are ours or on our payroll but some changes took effect with that new mooring company hired last week.

Our operations run on predictability and schedule. Anything that deviates from the plan is bad fucking news and that new hire wasn’t sanctioned by any of the Moretti-Bartoli allies. The patriarchs love to believe they own Kalliste and to an extent, that’s true. But the days when the entire Harbour officials were in our pocket are behind us. If we don’t want to get caught and end up in jail, we need to make sure our paperwork is in order and that no one double-checks our stocks.

And if we want to continue expanding our business with our product, we have to make sure not a single gram is missing where we already have a stronghold. Mallorca is a critical point for our empire and I refuse to let anyone steal it from us.

Having Julian, Pierce and I all in the same building at the same time is an open call for an attack so we need to make it quick.

I walk towards the end corner, finishing up with my section, when I hear a faint ticking noise. Pierce is at the front, almost done as well. He’ll wait for my approval and I’ll take him through the procedure and official paperwork we always need to be familiar with. I’ll probably greet the Captain of the Harbour who’s a family friend so Pierce can introduce himself. I won’t always be here and I need a true partner.

Julian left a couple of minutes ago. He’s expected at our new lab on the other side of Kalliste to check up on the new team and set up the new security system.

I’m alone at the back, the rest of the men starting to move the cargo onto the boat.

I shuffle to one of the boxes and the sound grows louder. I drop to my hunches and try to isolate the vibrations. Behind the merchandise, the rhythmic tick echoes loud and clear.

My eyes grow wide and panic seizes me. Cold sweat drips down my spine and fear like I’ve never known freezes the air in my lungs but I jump into action, hoping, praying I’m not too late.

“BOMB!” I yell to the team, Igor and Pierce.

They’re at the front so they’ll be able to flee quickly but that’s only a small relief.

I don’t want to die.

I back up a few steps then turn to run towards the wide metal doors, open to the boat on the wharf.

Cries of confusion and fear resonate around me. People abandon their posts and run outside to safety. It’s mayhem, and before I reach the doors, the blast propels me forward and up in the air, my body thrown like a ragdoll.

Heat cinches my back and I shriek in agony.

I lose control of my body and hit the ground hard. My vision blurs with the pain on my back. All I can discern is wild hues of orange and red coming from where I was seconds ago. My ears ring, but I can’t hear anything but a loud high-pitched sound that reverberates through my whole head. I feel like it’s going to explode through my ear canals.

I look around me, unsure where the exit is anymore, the thick smoke around me blinds my path and makes my eyes water until everything is just a blur. Pure alcohol on my flayed back would be less painful. My breathing is ragged and a pathetic wheezing sound comes out of my mouth with every exhale. Fuck, I must have broken a rib, maybe even punctured a lung. I feel like a mammoth is sitting on my chest, I’m gasping for air and panicking more when it doesn’t help. All I can taste is smoke and gasoline on my tongue.

I yell but no sound comes out. If I can’t walk out of here, I swear to God I’ll crawl; I’m not dying on a dirty cement floor, torn to pieces without even knowing who I need to haunt in the afterlife.

I try to press on my forearm and lift myself up to sit but the small movement makes me cry out in anguish. Staying on the floor isn’t an option but moving is too painful. Tears mix with the blood coming from a gash on my forehead but I don’t let up.

I’m not fucking dying here.

There’s no one around anymore so I hope everyone got out before the detonation.

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