I nod.Beside me, Wolf and Dove nod, too.
“Bueno.”Matias leans in.“One more thing.”
I wait.
“Every time you return to Colombia…” He flicks his eyes to Wolf.“You will bring Strakh Vodka.”
“Knew it.”Wolf grins.
“Understood.”I incline my head, hiding my smile.
The table exhales and drifts back into conversations about travel windows, aircraft maintenance, and the perfect heat level in the sauce.Plates shift.Glasses refill.The machine resumes its hum.
I rest an arm along the back of Wolf’s chair and let my fingers trail over the nape of his neck.He stills under the touch without looking at me, a subtle acknowledgment that stirs so many things in my chest.
Dove leans across Wolf and reaches for me.I catch her hand easily.
“I’m happy, Jag,” she whispers for only our circle of three.“Are you… Happy?”
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it.”I hook our pinkies together and lift them to my lips.
Then I offer our intertwined fingers to Wolf.
He cradles both our hands in his palms, dips his head, and kisses our fingers with a seriousness that silences me.
When he looks up, the three of us hold one another’s eyes over the small bridge of skin and promise.
The moment loosens, and we separate to eat.
I turn back to my plate and find Camila watching me from my other side, her expression unreadable.
“Welcome to the family.”She lifts her glass, her finger tapping against the stem.“I told you in our first meeting that I’d been watching you, studying the jobs you refuse and the people you protect.”
“I remember.”
“You turned down every contract tied to human trafficking.Every operation that involved harming people who couldn’t fight back.That told me everything.”Her nostrils pulse with a slow inhale.“You belong here.In the circle.”Her gaze moves to Wolf and Dove.“So do they.You were never going to survive without them.”Her eyes return to me.“Without them, you would’ve never been able to breathe.”
Realization slams into me with sudden, alarming clarity.
This wasn’t coincidence or convenience.It was design.Bringing Dove here, drawing Wolf in, folding them into the family so completely that leaving would never be a consideration.Because I would always choose them.
My jaw locks down on a smile.“You set me up.”
She lifts her glass to her mouth and takes an unhurried sip with a glimmer dancing in her eyes.
One year later
The Strakh island pulses with ordinary miracles.
The couch faces the wide windows, ocean light slanting in while the TV murmurs news about falling markets and border disputes.None of it reaches us.
I watch Wolf instead.
He holds his little sister in the crook of his arm.She’s four months old and already controlling every man in the room.He nuzzles her nose with his, makes ridiculous snorting sounds, and whispers nonsense like it’s classified information.
