Page 79 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

We break into the clearing, the cartel hot on our heels. I turn, firing in controlled bursts as Leo and Miles climb into the helicopter.

“Go, go, go!” I yell, leaping onto the skid as the bird lifts off.

Bullets ping against the hull as we ascend, but the jungle starts to fall away, the cartel fighters shrinking into ants below.

I collapse against the wall of the chopper, my chest heaving. Leo looks at me, his face grim.

“They knew we were coming,” he says.

I nod, the weight of the mission’s failure settling over me. The hostages are dead, and the intel was bad. But we’re alive—for now—and that’ll have to be enough.

Present Day

The rig shudders beneath me, a deep metallic groan that reverberates through my bones as flames lick higher into the night sky. Heat sears my skin even through the layers of fire-resistant gear, and the acrid stench of burning oil mixes with the salt of the open sea. I crouch low, gripping the heavy fire hose with both hands, bracing myself against the relentless pressure as I direct the torrent of water at the inferno.

“Ryan, move! That section’s gonna blow!” Maria’s shout crackles over the comm, sharp and urgent.

Maria is one of my most experienced rig managers. I don’t hesitate. Years of training kick in as I abandon the hose and dart to the side, leaping across the grating just as an explosion rocks the platform. A wall of heat slams into me, and I hit the deck hard, rolling to absorb the impact. Sparks rain down like hellfire, the metal under me scorching hot.

“Status!” I bark into the comm, pushing to my feet. My heartbeat pounds in my ears, steady and fierce.

“Containment at sixty percent,” Maria responds. “We need another five minutes.”

“We don’t have five minutes,” I mutter, my gaze locking onto a ruptured pipe spewing flames like a dragon’s fetid breath. I snatch up a foam extinguisher, charging toward the fire. The adrenaline sharpens my focus, my movements precise. This isn’t my first blaze, and it won’t be my last.

With a hiss and a blast of foam, the flames retreat, subdued but not extinguished. I spin to help the others, moving as one with the crew until the fire is finally out.

The rig is silent now, except for the hiss of cooling metal and the soft lapping of waves below. I pull off my helmet, sweat streaming down my face, and glance at my reflection in a shattered piece of glass. Blackened with soot and grime, my face is almost unrecognizable.

“Hell of a night,” Maria says, clapping me on the back.

“Just another day at the office,” I reply, managing a grim smile as I head toward the command post.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, vibrating against my hip. I pull it out, wiping the screen clean with the edge of my shirt. It’s a video call from Alex Castillo.

Alex doesn’t waste time with pleasantries when the call connects. His face is drawn, his dark eyes serious. “Ryan, we’ve got a problem at Celtic Knot.”

I nod, already feeling the weight of another fire—not literal this time—settling on my shoulders. “I didn’t think you’d be calling to invite me to the wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“I take it at some point you’re going to put a ring on Sophie’s finger.”

“Yeah, well…”

I chuckle. “So if it isn’t happy news, what’s up?”

“There’s a balloon payment’s coming due in thirty days,” Alex says, his tone clipped. “And someone bought the debt. They’re planning to call it in, force the family to sell.”

Someone? Not someone. Sapphire Development. Candace. The name lands like a punch to the gut. I’ve done my homework—I have to when someone’s sniffing around family property. “Candace Prescott,” I say, the words tasting like smoke.

Alex hesitates, his expression tight. “You know who she is?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend. “I know her.”

Alex doesn’t ask for details. He’s Leo’s kid brother, and like his sibling, he’s not one to pry. “Well, whoever she is, she’s making her move, Ryan. If we—I mean the winery—doesn’t find a way to cover that payment, your family will lose Celtic Knot.”

“You sound pretty invested…”

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