Page 70 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

These people liked to keep their spaces clean, which she appreciated. Over the years, she'd learned that the difference between good and bad neighborhoods was the level of cleanliness of their streets and their public spaces, and it didn't matter if the population was wealthy or poor. People who cared for their community didn't trash it.

35

KYRA

Kyra watched Max walk toward the galley to make their coffees, his gait slightly unsteady as if her words had physically knocked him off balance. She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. The mighty Guardian, who had fearlessly faced Doomers and torn out their hearts, was utterly flustered by her straightforward declaration that she was ready to take him to bed and unleash over two decades of stifled femininity on him.

She hadn't meant to be quite so blunt about it, but she wasn't a blushing virgin, and the guy deserved a forewarning. Life was too short, even for an immortal, to waste time waiting for what she wanted.

The stunned look on his face had been priceless. His blue eyes had widened, his lips parted in surprise, and he'd actually stammered before offering to get them both coffees.

Max stammering. It was adorable.

Kyra returned to the text she'd started and read it again.

We're airborne and safe. Everyone is on board and unharmed. Well, save for Parisa's husband, Javad, but she wasn't going to start with that. She pressed send and waited for Jasmine's response.

It came almost immediately:Thank the Goddess! How are my aunts and cousins?

Processing everything.Yasmin is grieving her husband, but having her children with her is helping. Soraya and Rana are eager to see their daughters. Kyra pressed send.

Are you in Iranian airspace still?

The question touched on Kyra's lingering fear. She glanced out the window at the vast expanse of clouds below. They were still flying over Iran, with its Revolutionary Guard and potentially Doomer-thralled military commanders.

Yes, she wrote.Max says it's unlikely they'll pursue us by air, but I won't feel truly safe until we're clear of Iranian airspace.

Three dots appeared as Jasmine typed her response:I understand. We're on our way to the village now. The bus has these strange windows that turn opaque for security. The girls were startled at first.

Kyra smiled, recalling what Max had told her after his call with Kian.Max mentioned you're going to look at houses.

That's the plan. The girls are going to help choose. They were nervous about leaving the penthouse, so I toldthem we were just visiting for now. I'm hoping once they see the village, they'll want to stay, and I'll just ask someone to bring their things over.

Kyra understood Jasmine's reasoning, but she wondered if that was the best way to handle it.Maybe they need a proper goodbye to the penthouse first? It was their safe place after their ordeal. They might need closure.

You're right.I didn't think of that. The three dots started dancing again, and then the message appeared:Have you told your sisters who you really are yet?

The question made Kyra's stomach tighten.Not yet. They still think I'm Jasmine, Kyra's daughter.

The girls will want to speak with their mothers when they find out they're safe, Jasmine wrote.You need to tell them before that.

I know. I'm just gathering my thoughts first. I'll let them talk with their mothers after I explain everything to my sisters.

The three dots appeared again.Call me when you're ready. The girls are going to be over the moon.

I will, Kyra promised.Send me pictures of the houses you're considering. I can't believe I'm finally going to have a real home.Oh! And if possible, try to choose houses that are close together.

She put her phone down just as Max returned with two steaming cups of coffee. He handed one to her, their fingers brushing in the exchange, and Kyra felt that familiar spark between them.

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip. It was perfect—strong and black, just as she preferred. "You remembered."

Max settled into the seat beside her. "I remember everything about you."

He had mastered the art of delivering simple statements that somehow carried the weight of poetry.

"Jasmine says that the girls were nervous about leaving the penthouse," she told him, changing the subject.

Max nodded. "That's not surprising. They were clinging to the first place that offered them safety after what they'd been through."

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