“You think it makes you weak,” I said. “To want something or someone.”
Her eyes darkened. “This isn’t about wanting.”
“You’re right,” I murmured. “If we were smart, we’d stay on opposite sides of this room and pretend the chemistry between us doesn’t exist. We can pretend this kiss or the other we shared didn’t tear a hole in the walls we spent years building.Youspent years building,” I corrected.
Her breath caught for just a second.
“But pretending won’t protect you, Amara. It only dulls the blade until it slips and cuts you anyway.”
She looked away again, jaw locking.
“You think I’m the risk,” I continued, voice low and measured. “But it’s not just me. You and your siblings have trained yourselves to compartmentalize so well that you’ve forgotten the difference between love and loyalty.”
Her glare returned. “Don’t pretend you know us.”
“I don’t pretend to know them.” The psychopathic twins were doomed, and there was no point in trying to understand them. “But I know you. I’ve watched you long enough to knowyou.”
She stood suddenly, her boots thudding softly on the wooden floor as she turned away, spine rigid, arms folding over her chest like a shield.
“I should’ve made Elira come,” she muttered.
“But you didn’t,” I said, tone calm but cutting. “Just admit that a part of you trusts me.”
She spun back around, eyes flashing. “No. Some part of me wants you. That’s not the same as trust.”
I let that sit for a moment, let it echo beneath the distant hum of the yacht’s systems.
“What if I told you something real?” I asked, softer now. “Something you could use to hurt me.”
She stopped moving, hesitated.
“I already know how to hurt you,” she said, voice quieter now. “Anya is your weakness. But I’d never use her. She’s my friend.”
“And she’s my sister,” I gritted.
The air tightened between us like it bore weight. It thickened with unsaid things with each passing second.
“I’ve spent years protecting the people I love,” I said. “And somewhere along the way, I became hard to love. And now I’m failing to protect the one person who matters most.”
She blinked slowly. Then walked back toward me. She came to a stop not as close as before, but close enough that I could feel the heat of her skin.
“You’re not failing,” she whispered. “Anyaissafe.”
“But are you?” I asked, eyes locking with hers. “Am I?”
“You are,” she claimed with foolish conviction. “I talked to Elira about her and Jet’s treatment of you. They were wrong, but their intention was to protect me, just like yours is to protect Anya. You three are actually not that different, you know?”
I let out a sardonic breath, realizing she meant it as a compliment, but I couldn’t take it as such.
“I trust them,” she continued. “And I wish you would too, at least when it comes to this, because there isn’t a scenario that connects Jet to Anya. Your sister has nothing to do with this.”
“She has everything to do with this,” I gritted, her stubbornness getting the better of me. “And with you. Jet’s using my affection for you to get her.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “There’s nothing between us, Santos.”
The yacht rocked slightly, the mattress shifting under me again as I leaned forward.
“Isn’t there, or are you lying to yourself? You don’t scare easily, but the kiss we shared scared you. And the look in your eyes now scaresme.”