Chapter 62

We're back at the villa.

I walk through the foyer, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, mainly fortified glass than walls, exhibiting a panoramic view of the luxuriant foliage outside and the guards manning the property. I stroll into the lounge, dimly lit, a fire roaring in the hearth. Torin sits with his back to me on an armchair with a bottle of Macallan whiskey positioned on top of the round table beside him, along with a tablet. His hand dangles off the arm, holding the brim of the glass with his fingertips.

"How is he?"

I scoff dryly. "As if you care."

"I don't," he says outrightly. "But I care about you, so I care about him."

I shake my head and I move to stand in front of him with nothing on but one of his shirts. The long sleeves hiding my bandaged arm. His eyes burnished with firelight, turning them into a burning amber. His gaze starts from the bottom, up, slowly. He uses his free hand to pat his lap.

"We killed all those operatives... the CIA will hunt us down."

Torin snorts. "We can add them to the list."

I give him a serious look.

His head sways with mock thought. "I think not. They will come for us, but it will be a surgical strike, quiet. They don't want us to go to the closest news outlet, and broadcast their little secret on national television to inflame matters, and strain foreign relations. Any commercial mode of transport is out of the question—even private, I bet they've already impounded my jet. All these operatives are dead, but I surmise they compromised the surveillance system, and they already identified us both. And they have an agent to confirm it."

He drains the last swallows of the whiskey and drops the glass on the table. And he takes the tablet. After a few moments of tapping, he hands it to me. I move closer to take it. A high-resolution screenshot of the blonde British woman that tried to entrap... or help me.

"I know her," he says, poison corroding his tone. "I met her that night at the club when you were grinding on Tommaso. I'm not even shocked. She reeked of vice, but it does beg to wonder how she got so close."

He sends me a questioning look with a quirk of his brows.

I gape at him, shock shoving me a step back. "You're blaming me? I knew Gaza had dirty agents on his payroll and I assumed Orian does to. Why do you think I didn't go running to the cops? Not that I could, since you have me under lock and key."

He turns his face away, a shadow falling on half of his face. "I wasn't talking about you."

I flare a brow. "Calum, then?"

He quirks his brows again, affirming.

"Calum knows what I know. He knows we can't just trust anyone in law enforcement. He wouldn't risk our lives like that."

"Your life. He did this for you." He looks up at me, something nasty stirring within. "He left everything behind, endangering his life to look for you. Knowing full well what would happen if he did find you. He must really love you."

I simply nod. "What he does for me; I'd do for him." I slink towards him to stand between his open legs. "I know what you're thinking."

He gives me another once over, eyes drowning in lust. "I wish you could."

I brush the comment aside. "You think, what everyone else thought."

"No man goes that far for a woman he doesn't want to fuck. Let me guess, you were the one that decided to be friends, or he's just gay."

I shake my head with an amused smile. "Neither. People have been shipping us together since day one. We never wanted romance to ruin our relationship. We do share something stronger than a friendship... a bond. I promise, it's possible for a man and woman to be friends. Take us, for example. We're—"

"Don't you dare say we're fucking friends."

I grin, then I amble past him.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Where I'm needed."

***

"You're awake!"

I leap on the bed, shuffling closer to sit kneeled beside him. He flutters his eyes open, and he shifts with a wince. He opens the cover to take a peek at his bandaged waist, then drops it, laying his head back on the pillow.

"Am I dead?"

I frown at him with a smile. "If you're dead then why do you think I'm here?"

He looks back at me with a wistful smile. "Then I know I made it to heaven."

I roll my eyes exaggeratedly. "Ya, you're definitely okay."

"Yeah, so come here."

He outstretches his one arm open and I crawl forward to lay my head and hand on his chest.

"You sure I'm not hurting you?"

"I don't even care." He wraps his arm around my shoulders, resting his cheek on top of my head. "I'm just glad you're safe. I didn't even realise I was shot until we were in the chopper. So pumped with adrenaline I didn't feel the hit until then."

"Yeah, Torin's shady physician patched you up real good. You were lucky, it was a through-and-through, the bullet avoided vital organs and arteries."

"And you?"

His fingers stroke the gauze on my arm, tracing idle circles.

"Flesh wound. It's really nothing."

He gives a thoughtful hum. "I guess I should thank Torin but I don't see the point, seeing as the next bullet that hits me will be a killshot."

"Come on," I blurt, annoyance prevalent.

"He can't let us go—"

"But he can set us up." I lift my head, his arm still coiled around me. "He said it himself that things won't be the same when this ends. Which is why he... bought me a house. A chateau. I saw the documentation myself, it's legit. The property is in my name. It has over eight rooms so plenty of room for you, too."

Calum gawks at me. "He bought you a mansion? Damn, I should get me a mafia sugar daddy, too. You think Santos likes blonde boys?"

I burst out laughing, laying my forehead on his chest, shaking from laughter.

"I'm being serious. It's not fair you got two pining after you. Boys gotta eat too."

I lift my head again, locking eyes with him, beholding his whimsical smile. His face suddenly grows serious, dispelling the humourful moment.

"Tell me what our future will look like if we survive this," he whispers wishfully. "Give me something to hope in, a fantasy to hold on to."

I think it over, daring to envision such a future. "Well—"

"Am I interrupting something?" Torin asks scathingly, emerging in the doorframe. "Good. Hadassah, I need you."

I straighten. Calum holds onto my bicep with a plea in his grip.

"You may trust him, but I don't," he murmurs as softly as he can. "He's a Moon. I don't care that he went against his brother. To me, that makes him even more dangerous because he knows more than anyone what Orian is capable of but he did it, anyway. I'm telling you, something is off."

His words summon a fresh wave of unwarranted trepidation.

"Hadassah," he calls again with a demand in his voice.

"Rest." I caress his‌ forehead,brushing away the stray strand of nordic-gold. "I'll be back with food and water."

He looks back at me defeatedly, releasing me reluctantly. I move off the bed and I walk to the door. Torin looks back at Calum with an unreadable look on his face, brief and blank. I pass and we travel down the corridor.

"Nothing has changed, my plans are still in motion. We're flying out tonight."

I come to a standstill, stopping us both. "You're the one that said it's not safe to leave."

"Commercially, I still have an unlisted aircraft that will allow us to travel undetected. I bribed who had to in order to let the tower sanction our take-off."

"There's too much 'we's in your sentence. Who's we?"

He looks back at me curiously. "You were the one that wanted to tag along."

"Until my best friend got shot."

"He's fine?"

"I'm not leaving his side."

He exhales. "I really could really use your help."

"You have a whole troop of deadly mercenaries. What do you need me for?"

He bobs his shoulder. "To make me feel better."