"It's time, Eve," I say softly as the jet begins to taxi. "Time for you to see the world I've built for us. The sanctuary where you'll be safe from everything except me."
The jet lifts off, and through the window, I watch the city shrink below us. By the time we level out, Eve's hand has found mine across the small table between us.
She doesn't let go for the entire flight.
Chapter 19 - Eve
The jet descends through clouds, and my stomach drops with it—though whether from altitude or dread, I'm not sure anymore.
Through the window, I see nothing but ocean. Endless, empty ocean. Then a sliver of land emerges, green and lush, with a single airstrip carved into the coast like a scar.
Nathan's hand tightens on mine. "Welcome home," he says softly.
Home. The word should sound welcoming. Instead, it sounds like a cell door closing.
I pull my hand away. "This isn't home. Home is where you choose to be."
"You chose this," he says calmly, but I see the flicker in his eyes. He knows it's a lie.
The jet touches down, and through the window, I see a black SUV waiting. Nathan helps me down the stairs, his hand on my lower back, and the air hits me—salt and something floral. Warm, almost violent sunshine.
Beautiful. Isolated. Impossible to escape.
I stop walking. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Where, Nathan?" My voice hardens. "I deserve to know where you've taken me."
He studies me, then relents. "A private island. About two hundred miles off the coast. No commercial routes nearby. No neighbors. Just us."
Two hundred miles. No neighbors. Just us.
Of course he brought me to an island. Of course there's no escape.
***
The villa appears suddenly, emerging from the jungle like something out of a dream. All glass and white stone, perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
It's stunning. Impossibly, heartbreakingly beautiful.
Of course it is. He wouldn't build me an ugly cage.
"You built this for me," I say, not a question.
"Yes."
I laugh, the sound bitter. "How long have you been planning this?"
"Two years." He doesn't even have the grace to look ashamed. "I wanted it perfect for you."
Two years. While I was building my company, fighting my battles, thinking I was free—he was constructing this.
A woman in a crisp white uniform appears. "Miss Sinclair, welcome. I'm Salomé, the house manager."
She leads us inside. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the ocean like living art. Everything is open, airy, beautiful.
But I notice the other things too. The security cameras. The reinforced glass. The cliff with only one road in or out.
