Mine.Ours.
And somewhere, deep down, in a place I refused to let fear touch—I believed we’d find our way back.Somehow.Some way.Even if it took everything I had.
“My family will skeweryou once they find you.”
Machado turned his head slightly, watching me with interest.
He smiled.Quiet.Knowing.
“I know my place in Italy,” he said.
The wind carried his words cleanly across the deck.
“They could annihilate me there.”
My jaw tightened.He didn’t sound afraid.He sounded like a man who had done his homework and thought of every contingency before he put his plan in motion.
“But in Spain,” he continued, “I am untouchable.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Even by men as powerful as your brothers.”
There it was, his stupid confidence.Arrogant monster.
“You shouldn’t have run from me, Antonella.”
The way he said my name curdled something in my stomach.
Antonella.
It sounded wrong coming from his mouth.Like it didn’t belong to him.
Only one man had ever said it in a way that made it feel like something more than a name.
Archie.
I swallowed it down his image as it formed in my mind, but it didn’t go anywhere.
I wondered if he knew.
The question surfaced before I could stop it.
Had word reached him yet?Had he already torn through the city looking for me?Or—a colder thought slipped in.Would he just walk away, even knowing I was missing, because he simply didn’t care enough?
My throat tightened.
Would he come?Would he know where to look?Would he ever?—
My hand moved without permission, pressing lightly against my stomach.It was a small, instinctive gesture.Protective.Mine.
Machado’s gaze dropped to my stomach immediately, sharp and suspicious.
“What is it?”he asked, stepping closer.“Are you in pain?”
My pulse spiked.
Idiot.
