How did Ras set all of this up on such a short notice?
“Did Orrin do all of this for us?”
“Yeah.”
“Not that I mind being in Greece, but why aren’t we going to Damiano and Vale?”
Something flashes in his gaze, but it’s gone so quickly I decide I imagined it. “It would have been too obvious. It’s better we stay somewhere off the grid until things settle down.”
That makes sense. “So where are we going?”
“To one of Orrin’s houses.”
“Will Dem and Vale come to see us soon?”
Ras coughs. “I’m not sure.”
“Will you ask the next time you call Dem?”
There’s a slight pause before he says, “I will.”
“When can I call Cleo?” I want to know how she’s doing. She must be worried about me, although Vale’s probably told her I’m with Ras.
“I’ll get some burner phones in town when we go shopping tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I smile at him.
We drive for about fifteen minutes and then turn onto a windy cliff-side road lined with simple houses, so I’m not expecting the stunning villa that appears when we reach the end of a narrow driveway.
“Wow,” I breathe. Whitewashed walls, terracotta-tiled roof, and vibrant-blue wood shutters on the windows. The property is tucked behind a dense barrier of trees, so it’s completely hidden from the main road.
Ras unlocks the antique-looking wooden door and holds it open for me.
The interior of the villa is just as stunning as the exterior. I manage to take in the high ceilings with wooden beams that run across them and the rustic furniture, but the showstopper is the view. My jaw falls open. “Holy shit.”
The windows face the Mediterranean, and the breathtaking view of the water is framed with two olive trees.
“Do you like it?” Ras asks, appearing at my side.
For a moment, fantasy merges with reality. It’s so easy to believe that we’ve just arrived at a perfect vacation home where we plan to spend the next few weeks wrapped up in each other.
We’re here all alone.
Ras and I can do whatever we want without fear of being discovered. Without checking the clock to make sure it isn’t time for us to be somewhere else.
The realization sends a tingle down my spine.
It’s just him and I in this beautiful house, pretending we’re dating.
Dating.
The word feels woefully inadequate to describe what’s happening between the two of us right now.
“Of course I like it,” I whisper, watching as a flock of birds cross the sky in a V-formation.
I get it then—what Vale meant when she said she wanted a clean break from her life in New York. Our flight couldn’t have been more than nine hours, but it feels like we’re a world away from that place. The idea of letting go of everything that happened there is seductive, even if only for a few days.
Can I let myself forget? Can I enjoy these moments with Ras and take some time to heal without all that baggage hanging over me?
I’m not sure. But I resolve to try for a few days.
I slip my hand through Ras’s. “Let’s go explore everything.”
He looks down at me with a tender smile and my heart swells in response.
We spend the next half an hour exploring every nook and cranny of the property before finally lying down on a daybed that overlooks the hot tub and the pool. Ras tucks me against his side and wraps his arm around me, careful to avoid the area that’s hurt.
“I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit,” I mumble.
He presses a kiss to my hair.
And for the first time in forever, I have a dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 29
RAS
The next morning, I take Gemma into town for clothes and supplies.
On the taxi ride over, I try to figure out when to tell her that Vale has no idea where we are. Gemma seemed so sure that Damiano’s aware of what we’ve done, that I froze and lied to her.
How will she react when she finds out it might be a very long time before she sees either of her sisters again?
Guilt pulses inside my chest at the knowledge that if we want to stay hidden, Gemma will have to wait to talk to them. We can’t risk getting in touch with anyone for a while. Even with burners, we could be tracked using cell towers. I don’t know about Garzolo’s men, but Napoletano could pull something like that off in his sleep. It’s best if Gemma waits to call anyone until we’re about to leave Crete. Then, even if they manage to track us here, we’ll be long gone.
I rake my fingers through my hair and retie the knot at the back. Will Dem make Napoletano his underboss now that I’ve abandoned my duty? Napoletano and him might not have the same history we do, but he’s capable. He’d do the job as well as I ever could.
Damiano will be okay. One day, our paths will cross again, and maybe I’ll even convince him to forgive me.
I chase the painful thoughts away by focusing my attention on Gemma. She seems to be feeling better after sleeping for nearly eighteen hours. We ask the taxi to drop us off by a pharmacy because she’s self-conscious about the bruise on her face, and she wants to buy some makeup to cover it up.
The fact that she has to do that at all infuriates me. Fuck Garzolo. I hope he’s enjoying his cell.
We walk into the pharmacy, and Gemma quickly buys some things before ducking into the bathroom. When she comes up with her bruise covered up and a smile on her face, my anger loses its edge.
I finally have Gemma exactly where I want her—by my fucking side. That’s the only thing that matters now. I won’t let my anger at her father stop me from enjoying this.
The old town of Heraklion is filled with cafes, tavernas, and shops selling everything from pottery to souvenirs. We pass by Orthodox churches and walk through fountain-filled plazas. Gemma takes in everything with wide eyes, excitedly pointing things out to me on every block. A scruffy but kind of cute street dog starts following us around, and Gemma insists on stopping and giving him a scratch. My thoughts go to Churro who’s still back in Ibiza. I’ll have to find some way to get the little guy to us eventually.
Gemma leaves the dog alone and comes to me, tucking herself against my side. Warmth spreads through my chest. The longer we spend together, just the two of us, the more certain I am.
I’m going to build a life with her.
It might not be easy, especially not at first, but all the best things take work. I’ll spend each day doing whatever needs to be done to make sure she’s safe and comfortable and happy.
There’s nothing better than seeing her happy. It’s contagious. I’m fucking floating as I walk beside her, holding her hand inside my own.
“I love this town,” she tells me once we reach the shore.
I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “I’m glad you like it, Peaches.”
We won’t be able to stay on Crete forever, but Greece has a shit ton of islands. I’ll find her one she likes even better and buy her a house. I have enough money scattered across my personal accounts to last us a few lifetimes.
No, scratch that. I’ll build her a house. It’ll take longer, but it’ll be fucking perfect, just like her, and we’ll be so happy, we won’t miss any of the things we left behind.