Page 37 of His Untouchable Heart

I exchanged a glance with Anthony. Calm. Listening.

“There’s more,” Juliette said, voice dropping further. “My laptop’s been acting weird. Random shutdowns. Once last night, the camera light blinked on for a second. I wasn’t even in a video call. Audio glitches. It only happened at home while you were gone.”

I felt a cold prickle crawl up my spine. “Juliette…”

“I know. I sound like I’m a tinfoil hat away from spiraling,” she said, eyes scanning the area around us. “But I swear to God, I feel like we’re being watched.”

I reached across the table and wrapped my hand around hers. “You’re not paranoid.”

Her fingers twitched under mine, not pulling away but not relaxing either.

“This is my fault,” I said softly. “I never should’ve involved you?—”

“You didn’t,” she snapped. “I offered to help. I just didn’t think help would mean having to check over my shoulder every time I go outside.”

“I know,” I murmured. “But I think it’s time we stayed somewhere else. Just until we figure out what’s going on.”

Juliette scoffed. “What, like a hotel?”

“Not a hotel,” Anthony said, speaking for the first time since his thank-you. His voice was low, certain. “But she’s right. It’s not safe right now. I suspect it’s Curtain or someone he has hired, but you never know.”

Juliette looked between us, her jaw tightening. “I didn’t sign up for this, Gab.”

I swallowed hard. “I know. I didn’t ask you to. But I need you to trust me now. Just for a little while.”

She stared at me, her features hard with worry. Then, finally, she let out a breath and nodded once.

“Fine. But if I find out someone’s been creeping around my Spotify playlists,” she said, grabbing her coffee, “I’m suing.”

It was a joke, kind of. But it landed like a sigh we hadn’t realized we’d been holding in.

Anthony stepped away from the table, phone pressed to his ear as he paced a few feet down the sidewalk. I watched him move—his shoulders tense but not rigid, his free hand tucked casually into his pocket. This wasn’t the usual businesslike Anthony. There was something different in his posture now—less detached with more personal concern. He wasn’t just managing a situation anymore.

He was protecting us.

Juliette sipped her coffee, clearly trying not to stare but absolutely failing. “Does he always look like he’s negotiating a nuclear ceasefire?”

“Only when things are really serious,” I said, attempting a smile. It didn’t quite land.

A moment later, Anthony returned, slipping his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Damian’s giving us access to his yacht. It’s docked in Coconut Grove Marina.”

Juliette blinked. “You’re serious? A yacht?”

“There’s one rule,” Anthony added, glancing between us. “We can’t take it out for a joyride.”

I leaned back in my chair and let out a theatrical sigh. “What a shame. I had my eye on a midnight sail to Cuba.”

That earned the smallest smile from him—just a quirk of the mouth, but I felt it like a ripple through my chest.

“It’s secure,” he said. “Private. We’ll be able to come and go without drawing attention.”

Juliette hesitated, then nodded once. “Fine. I’ll pack a bag. But for the record, I still hate this.”

I could see past her sarcasm, though—beneath it, a flicker of real anxiety had taken root.

Before I could respond, Anthony looked at me and added, more softly this time, “I’ll stay with you. Like I said—I keep my promises and that includes your twin sister.”

A tight breath escaped me. I didn’t realize how much I’d been bracing until he said it. Until I felt fully that we weren’t doing this alone.

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