Page 11 of Gabriel
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she said.
“You’re loving this as much as I am,” I retorted, flopping down beside her.
“I doubt it,” she replied, stretching out on her back. “And let’s not forget that you made it seem like a stroll around the lake and you bribed me with coffee. I was already halfway dressed before I realized you meant real hiking and not some bougie nature walk with a wine tasting at the end.”
“Okay, that part I’ll admit.”
A comfortable silence settled between us, filled only with the rustle of trees and the occasional birdcall. This trip had beenmy idea, my childhood wish. We spent months tracking Europe, light backpacks, no set itinerary.
“I wish Jet were here,” Elira muttered.
“Yeah, me too.” Jet had always been overprotective of both of us, but he and Elira shared a twin bond that ran deeper than anything I’d ever seen. Lately though, he’d been keeping his distance. It started after that strange night at the club. I’d asked him about it, pressed for answers, but all he said was that he’d dropped by to check out the place and happened to run into an old acquaintance. He wouldn’t say who.
“Think he’s okay?” I asked softly without looking at her.
Elira didn’t answer immediately. “Jet’s always okay. So yeah…”
We didn’t talk more about it. Jet was my family, regardless that we weren’t blood-related, but I worried about his impulsiveness sometimes. If he was quiet for too long, it usually meant one of two things: he was fine and avoiding emotional intimacy, or he was in deep trouble.
“Are you still in touch with your girlfriends from D’Arc?” Elira asked, catching me off guard.
“Yeah, of course. We’ve got a group chat, but we don’t text every day.” I tilted my head back, letting the sun warm my face. “Anya should be landing in Albania right about now actually. She’s going to make that country her portfolio or something.”
“Really?” There was mild curiosity in Elira’s voice, though she didn’t sound surprised. My adoptive siblings hadn’t gone to D’Arc—they’d chosen a prestigious university in the U.K. instead—but they always knew who was doing what. From an early age, they’d learned that information was power.
“Arianna, Skye, and Penelope are happily married,” I went on. “Gianna and Francesca are probably causing chaos at D’Arc.”
Elira let out a soft laugh. “Those two? Definitely trouble.”
I was just about to ask if she wanted to head back when my phone buzzed in the grass between us.
Unknown Number: Meet me in Paris in one week. Same place Mom and Giovanni celebrated their anniversary. J
Elira’s phone buzzed a second later. Same message.
We both sat up.
“Talk about impeccable timing,” I murmured. I reread the text, then turned my screen to Elira. She was already holding hers up to show me. “He knows we’re backpacking, right? It’s not like we can run to Paris.”
“He knows. He’s probably assuming we’re using a jet when we get too tired,” she said, eyebrows lifting.
I scoffed. “He doesn’t give us enough credit.”
She shrugged. “No matter. We’re going to Paris, and I’m actually looking forward to some action.”
My eyebrow arched. “Are we talking like man action or…?”
“Paris, here we come,” she answered instead, ignoring my question.
I nodded, heart picking up speed. “Did you notice he’s using an untraceable number?”
“Yep.” Elira exhaled and started pulling her socks and boots back on. “We better get moving. It will take us a while to hitchhike all the way to Paris.”
“Or we can simply text back and say we’ll be there when we get there,” I suggested sarcastically.
She chuckled, knowing it was an empty threat.
Gabriel
