Page 143 of Koroleva

"Instead of wasting more fluids, I wouldn't waste time if I were you and would go to the doctor. Oh, and change your friends, because what a bunch of shits they are. Pleasure doing business with you, Many, I hope you call Dante soon so we can handle the merchandise you'll distribute for free, as an apology, you know what I mean. And take care, infections in that area of the foot are delicate, I wouldn't like it to get gangrenous and have to be amputated. See you," I proclaimed.

Dante and I turned around to get into the car and drive away.

Tightening the screws on our dealers was part of the business, and I didn't mind stepping in for Aleksa.

"How many more do we have?" I asked, glancing at the clock.

"Three that I've located."

"Then step on it, I want to get home to dine on my wife." Dante let out a laugh.

"At your command, boss."

56

Santorini

If there was one place in the world I always wanted to visit that wasn't too far from Spain, it was Santorini.

Perhaps because I had seen it in countless TV reports and it always seemed like a magical place to me.

I loved the idyllic landscape and the simplicity of those little white houses suspended on steep cliffs. The blue roofs that seemed like drops of the Aegean Sea blessing each house. And that rich cuisine that made you swoon in front of its dishes. Or perhaps it was the sunrises and sunsets that made you believe there was no greater artwork than nature itself.

An island born from the roar of a volcano, steeped in ancient culture and whimsical gods.

It had been a long time since I woke up feeling serene. Since I sat on a terrace with a view and tried to think of nothing but work or family. And although things were not going as I wanted, with revenge hanging by a thread too fragile, and the lawyers warning us on the day we took the flight that families were demanding millions in compensation and we had no idea where Cheng had hidden, a traitorous smile would involuntarily spread across my face whenever Romeo appeared on my horizon, capturing all my attention.

The slight splashing in the water signaled that I had had enough for today. His hands on the edge gave way to those powerful arms covered in tattoos, his head and body effortlessly emerged to end with his whole body out of the water.

He reminded me of the figure of a man holding a discus, until he stood up and was replaced by something darker and earthlier that sent shivers down my spine.

The sun warmed my face as I held a cup filled with steaming coffee, needing to clear my head.

We woke up after spending the night making love, this time in a different way. Slower, softer, hotter, more intimate. Rocked by the murmur of the waves and the dark glint of my lover’s eyes.

We had spent two days barely wanting to leave the room, just taking long walks through cobblestoned streets, to end up dining in a secluded restaurant and taking dessert between the sheets.

I couldn’t believe that my husband still aroused my curiosity, and not one rooted in revenge, but in trying to understand who this man was that I went to bed with every night, the one who made me smile inexplicably and desire to explore every corner where I could lose myself in his body.

Now he stood before me, naked, wet, intense, and heavily tattooed. The villa where we stayed had a private pool on the terrace.

My slow, lascivious gaze followed the trail of sinuous drops attempting unsuccessfully to dissolve the ink on his skin. Without a shred of modesty, R grabbed a white towel that lay on the back of a chair, rubbed his hair dry, and approached me with that sinful smile that I had experienced between my thighs the night before.

"Are you still hungry, or do you see me as some sort of toast?" he joked.

He strategically placed the towel to sit on the chair next to mine without wetting the fabric seat, allowing the sun to evaporate the lingering moisture on his body.

I ignored his question and took a long sip of coffee. Romeo closed his eyes in relaxation.

"Does the tattoo on your belly have something to do with Hinduism? Or is it some kind of amulet?" The corners of his masculine lips lifted.

"I rather think it's a premonition."

"What do you mean?" I asked, intrigued. I had noticed it several times, especially when my tongue roamed that area filled with precise, colorful lines.

"Do you have your phone there?" He didn't even look at me; he was too comfortable, just as a cat would be in the sun.

"Uh-huh," I admitted. It was on the table, though I only glanced at it to check for messages or calls.

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