Page 48 of Gabriel
“I’m sure you do.”
“You want to hear it?”
“Not really, but go on.”
“I kiss Santos with a poisonous lipstick. Unfortunately, it won’t kill him, but it’ll paralyze him just long enough for extraction.”
I stared at her, images of Elira kissing Santos flashing through my mind like a nightmare. My stomach churned with revulsion and I knew I’d never allow it.
“What do you think?” she asked eagerly.
“No.”
“What? It’s efficient.”
“It’s psychotic.”
“Thank you.”
I sighed. “I have dinner with him”—I glanced at the clock—“in a couple of hours. I’ll handle it without involving deadly lipstick.”
She gave a theatrical eye roll. “Boring.”
“Effective,” I shot back, already walking toward the door. “We’ll talk about the details after I get some shut-eye.”
Without waiting for her reply, I headed to my cabin, peeled off my boots, and collapsed face-first onto the bed.
“Just a minute,” I mumbled to the empty room. “One minute, then I’ll shower…”
Sleep swallowed me whole before I could finish the sentence, shower forgotten.
Raphael
“What’s bothering you,mi reina?”
Sailor’s gaze drifted from the endless sweep of the ocean surrounding our private island. The second her electric blue eyes met my own, something inside me shifted as it always did. It was a subtle tremor, familiar and unrelenting, as if my soul had never learned how to steady itself around her.
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she let the silence stretch between us, the way only someone you’ve loved for decades could—unrushed, unafraid.
I could see the storm behind her eyes, quiet but insistent. Ever since Anya moved to Albania and Gabriel started spending more time wrapped up in the business, Sailor had seemed a little unmoored.
It was natural, I supposed. The children had grown. They’d built their own lives, flung themselves into new stories that no longer had us at the center. And now, the house echoed in ways it never had before. It was just the two of us for the first time in our lives.
Yes, sometimes the silence felt heavy. Sometimes it felt like a void. But in moments like this—with the sea breathing beside usand her eyes searching mine—it also felt like a chance. A quiet beginning, not an ending.
I reached out, brushing a strand of windblown hair from her cheek.
“We’re still here,” I said softly. “You and me. It’s enough, and one day grandchildren will follow.”
They better be Gabriel’s children, not Anya’s, but I kept those words unspoken.
“I’m worried,” she muttered.
“About?”
She released a long sigh.
“Anya. Gabriel.” Her voice trembled as she returned her gaze through the window again, locking on the blue ocean. “I feel like something is brewing and we’re clueless.”
