Page 12 of Voyage with the Reclusive Billionaire

Someone has been following us.

Or me, more specifically.

I’d thought maybe I was being paranoid, and that someone was just taking the same route around the ship as Eliza and I, but I’ve had my eye on them for the past three hours, and they’ve remained at a careful, close but not quite close enough to make out any distinct features, distance. If I were in my raven form, they’d probably be close enough for me to make them out. But as it is, with my senses muted, though still sharper than non-shifters, I can only make out that long blonde hair and female form, but no distinct features.

And I know it’s me they’re following because they remain behind when Eliza ducks out to go to the bathroom. But when I go, a figure dressed in white slinks along behind me.

So I haven’t gone quite as unnoticed as I’d hoped, then.

But fine. So long as they leave Eliza alone and don’t drag her into this mess, I don’t give a shit what happens to me.

It’s in that moment that it hits me how truly and how deeply I like her. How connected I feel to her, on a level I’ve never felt before. With anyone. And maybe it’s fucking crazy, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I know, even as I try to ignore the thought, that Eliza will forever be the one that got away. For the longest time, everything was about me. My ego couldn’t handle the idea of a single negative thing being said about me, no matter how trivial.

And then when that article came out, and my face was everywhere with the truth laid bare in front of a suspicious, fearful society that has never been accepting of my kind. A society where we are mostly thought of as myths, beyond the odd few who recall our existence through familial lines or other shifter families.

My now ex-girlfriend Jade had turned me in, my deepest secret, for some petty cash. How fucking ridiculous. I would have paid her more if it meant she’d shut the fuck up about my heritage and speak a word of it to no one.

But she sold me out.

I should have known better than to trust her—to trust anyone. My team wiped the original article from the internet as quickly as they could, but with such outrageous claims being made against one of the leading businessmen in the United States, it was bound to get out of hand quickly.

Once it was shockingly out in the open, there was no reeling it back in. No way to stop the onslaught of articles being written, of news clips being recorded, of emails being sent begging me to speak on the subject. Even more ridiculous theories being published - a bunch of shit, but all seemed somehow plausible after the initial allegations.

When I realized it wasn’t about to blow over, and that my business’ stock was dipping far too low for comfort, I believed there was only one way to fix everything.

Of course, I could have spoken out, claimed it was all horseshit and lies spread by a jealous gold digger, but I couldn’t turn away from my heritage like that. Couldn’t dismiss it and verbally declare it outrageous and idiotic when it was who I am. Who my family is.

So yes, there was only one viable option.

And that was to disappear.

There couldn’t be a story if I ceased to exist. People wouldn’t boycott my company if it appeared that I was no longer a part of it. And I couldn’t be lied to and betrayed if I was isolated in the woods, spending more time with black wings than I did with two legs.

I feel Eliza’s curious eyes on me before she speaks. “Are you feeling okay?”

Thankfully, she hasn’t brought up what happened at dinner last night. I especially like that about her—she has boundaries.

But.

But I’m not sure this secret is better left buried when it comes to her. Not anymore. “I’m okay,” I assure her, bringing myself out of thoughts of the past and instead focusing on the present. I’d like it if that meant I was focusing on her. Fuck, I want nothing more than to be able to focus on her.

But that stalker…

I can’t seek them out. I won’t risk it, in case it’s a reporter who somehow learned of the cruise and is now waiting for me to slip up at any moment. I’ve already proved I didn’t wait quite long enough to become a nobody, so it isn’t that far of a reach to assume that it’s someone from a magazine looking for the biggest payout of their career.

Or maybe it’s just someone hoping they’ll be able to earn a little hush money. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that they’re here, and they’re taking the opportunity they were given.

Either way, I know I can’t ignore their existence forever. I know that either I will have to go to them, or they’ll come to me.

And I know that I should tell her. I should tell her before they do. I should tell her my full name, who I am, and what I can do. It’s better if she hears it from me. Hopefully, it'll make her less likely to freak the fuck out.

And hopefully, when I tell her tonight, it doesn’t ruin this thing, these feelings that are growing between us.

The sun is setting when Eliza and I finally decide to make our way back to our rooms. I’m unnecessarily paranoid that mine is bugged now, so I clear my throat and ask, “Have I earned the right to see you to your room yet?”

Her eyes are alight with amusement as she shrugs and lifts her arms in a lazy shrug. She says, “I suppose I could let you walk me to my door. Just this once, though.”

My heart is hammering in my chest. I haven’t been this nervous in a long fucking while. Haven’t cared enough to feel anything but dullness. “Actually,” I say slowly, “I was hoping you’d let me in. To talk.”

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