Page 27 of Shark Bait

I shake my head. “The baby is mine. There is no father.”

When I say nothing else because fear is locking up my whole body, Shark nods. “Okay. We’re on a private island. Can you move now?”

I can. Gratefully. He doesn’t push me to talk about things I wish had never happened in the first place.

Shark moves away, but I grab his hand. I don’t thread our fingers together like we’re lovers, but I hold it as if I need guidance walking across the street. Which is kind of accurate since our ride seems to be parked there with Capital already sitting inside the…carriage?

A real carriage pulled by horses?

I shield my eyes from the strong sun and see an obsidian carriage with gold trim. A coachman dressed in black on white with a tall hat holds the reins of a pair of horses, one white, one black, both with long manes. I’m a farm girl and have seen plenty of horses, but these aren’t just any horses. They look majestic, almost like royalty.

Shark offers me a hand to climb into the carriage, but I pass it to greet a real life (so cool) coachman and say hi to the horses. I approach one from the front so he can see me. They appear calm and trained, so I extend a hand and wait. Big, intelligent brown eyes regard me, and the horse nudges my palm, telling me it’s okay if I touch him.

I run my hand over his long nose and marvel at the feel of his soft hair. “You are a handsome boy, aren’t you?” I kiss the horse and then, with Shark’s help, climb into the carriage.

I rest my hands on my belly. “Quite a ride you got here,” I say to Capital, who’s sitting across from me. Slowly, the carriage moves forward.

“Thank you. Do you like horses?”

“My grandparents owned a farm with horses. My dad used to drive me and my brothers there almost every weekend. That was in Tennessee. Mom’s from Florida. Used to drive there too, but that’s a story for another day.”

Capital smiles, showing dimples again. This man is as handsome as the devil, I’d say. “Sounds like a nice childhood.”

“Sure was.” I nod, heaviness growing in my chest from missing my folks.

I turn my head toward the roads we’re taking, trying to politely end this conversation. It doesn’t take much for these guys to stop talking. Shark talks only when he has to, and Capital seems content with silence as well.

The coachman takes us down a wide street. On the left is a sandy beach, and on the right is rocky but lush Mediterranean terrain, with red-roofed homes nestled between green trees and rich shrubs.

“You sure we’re not in Italy?” I ask Shark.

A nod from him, but Capital answers, “We’re on Isola di Monteverro. The island is on the Mediterranean, and Corsica is on the other side of the mountain.” He points toward the sea, and I spot another faraway island.

“Now I know where I am. Thank you.” We ride for a while longer when I start to notice something strange. “Oh hey,” I say to nobody in particular. “What happened to the cars?”

Capital shifts in his seat. “I don’t like them on the island.”

“Are you the governor?”

“No, nothing like that.” He clears his throat. “I own all the land here.”

Get out of Dodge! “You own this entire island?”

“Mmhm,” he says. “If there’s anything you need, you can have it.”

Oh wow. “Anything?”

“Anything that’s within my power to give.”

“That’s very generous of you.”

“It’s how we treat our family. Isn’t that right, Daddy?” Capital narrows his eyes at Shark.

Next to me, Shark appears uncomfortable and mumbles something under his breath.

“You are my family, are you not?” Capital leans in, elbows on his knees. “Are you not like a brother to me?”

“Yes, Alessio,” Shark says.

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