Chapter 141
**Hadassah POV**
I drag myself closer, my fingertips pressed on my forehead where a headache is localized, throbbing in multiple places around each other like something sharp drilling into my skull from different angles.
The kitchen hums with the warmth of early morning light, golden rays filtering through the window. The scent of sizzling bacon and butter-drenched toast fills the air as Emilia stands at the stove, completely in her element. Her hair is loosely tied back, wisps escaping as she deftly flips pancakes with practiced ease, the batter bubbling on the pan. A soft sizzle comes from the skillet where eggs are frying, yolks golden and glossy.
Across the room, I station myself at the counter, eyes half-lidded, sleep still clinging to me like a fog. I set it all up and not long after, I pull a heavy shot of espresso, the dark liquid trickling slowly into the small cup. The sharp, rich aroma of the coffee cuts through the sweet smell of breakfast. As I raise the steaming cup to my lips, observing her she flips and stirs.
“Still walking funny, I see,” she comments.
My eyes stab her back. “You know how it is… except for you I imagine sitting has been pretty difficult.”
She casts a half-amused smile back at me before she focuses in front of her. “Not my fault your best friend is a freak.”
“Don’t want to hear about that,” I say quickly, a throb in my head spikes at the thought. “And just so you know, nothing happened.”
“Oh I know,” she says casually carefree.
“Really? Because the insecure side remarks you make tell me otherwise.”
She pauses and faces me momentarily. “Look, hand to heart. I know that what’s between you and Calum is pure and platonic—family like. I can see it. But I also see that…” she omits what she wants to say for a diplomatic answer. “It’s a tough pill to swallow that me as someone he loves will always come second to the woman he holds most important.”
I stroll over to the island counter to slip on the backless stool. “What he has with the both of us—the other can’t have. You can’t compare our relationship with him. Not when he has given you his heart.”
“But you hold his soul.”
I place the cup on the counter with the fragile fury to make the contents swish but not spill.
“That’s the insecurity talking right there.”
She raises a hand of mock surrender before she turns back around again.
“Making a feast over there,” I comment to divert the topic.
“Someone had to,” she says with that insolence lining her tone that makes me want to throttle her most of the time. “Half the house is hungover and Ellis looks like the only thing he knows how to make is a protein shake.”
I snort wryly, drawing measured sips. “Is Calum okay?”
“Oh yeah, Ellis is with him now. Calum had security protocols set up to make sure that anyone who’s trying to find us—doesn’t. And he got an alert—CIA sniffing, apparently our faces were clocked on a facial recognition software before we boarded. So the last thing that anyone knows is that we were close to the Bosporus seaway.”
“Is that going to be a problem.”
“Eventually, but they’re handling it. Though, we can’t pull this off forever. We have no true destination—the States are too hot right now. We’d be captured the moment we entered their airspace. And we have no fresh leads.”
This would be the perfect time to tell her—all of them.
“Did you brief Ellis about Magnus?”
She gives me an outraged look. “Of course not. You think we should start trusting him because he has a crush on you?”
“My dear the same thing could be said of you,” I counter with a smile as fake as her hair. “And you should really maintain your dye—your roots are showing.”
Silenced, Emilia starts plating up the heaps of food.
“I think we are due to make port soon,” I point out. “Do we get off at the cruise’s first stop or should we sail on?”
“A criminal not long ago told it’s best for a fugitive to not stay at the same place for too long.” she relays and adds, “Even if things seem safe.”
“Safety is an illusion,” I say in agreement before I let out a pent up breath. “Although if I could tell me from two years ago about what I’ve done. Younger me would hate me.”
“You did what you had to survive,” she says absently with a distant look in her eyes as she slides over my plate on the slab of marble. “You had too.”
I move the plate closer as I watch her. “I joined this line as a moral obligation, but you took an oath, sworn to the law. So I get that it must feel like going against nature.”
“Don’t do that,” she says with a small and bitter laugh. Her tone snaps into solemnity. “Don’t try to relate. You were just a hardheaded private investigator. I was the Commandeer of an elite task force of my agency.”
“And yet my accomplishments surpass your own where I’ve taken down trafficking rings that agencies like your own failed to do. Not because of incapability but because politics and internal corruption.
I shove the plate aside as I slide off the stool. “Thanks for the breakfast but I kinda just lost my appetite.”
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