Page 251 of The One
I snort, making Isa look up from the magazine she was flipping through.
“Yeah, well. He and I both wish he wasn’t the Don.”
Silence stretches between us for a moment. Carefully, she asks, “What do you mean?”
I stare at the bookshelves lining the walls, my fingers tightening around the phone. “Sometimes we fantasize about getting out.”
The words slip out before I can stop them.Merda. Just having talked with Isa about it has loosened my tongue.
“If only it were that easy,” she jokes.
“It can’t be that hard,” I counter.
God, why did I say that?
There’s a shift in the air, subtle but there. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter, more intent. “You sound serious about this.”
I blink. I really should have kept my mouth shut.
“Forget I said anything. I’m just venting. This hasn’t been an easy transition for us.”
Another pause. Then, softer, “Take care of yourself, Mari. I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay, because you would have worried. Thank you again for being there for me when I needed a friend.”
That makes me feel all warm inside. “You’re right. I was worried about you. But you’re free now. Be happy, Sofia. Make the most of it.”
Something in her tone leaves me with a chill. There’s an edge to it, a strange finality that I can’t quite place.
“I will,” she says. “I promise.”
Chapter Ninety-Five
Mateo
“The cover story is that you and Mari are taking off over Christmas to spend some alone time on your yacht to make babies. Hence, no crew,” Rom grins at us as we go through the plan one last time. Besides Isa, he’s the only other person who knows.
We’re standing in the middle of the driveway, far from prying ears, admiring Rom’s latest toy, a brand-new red Ferrari. He’s about to leave for Rome. Like every year, he’s flying his mother in so they can spend Christmas together.
The timing couldn’t be better, really. If all goes as planned, when the news of our deaths breaks, no one will question it or suspect anything other than our enemies making use of Rom’s absence.
“The explosives are set for midnight,” he continues quietly. “Make sure you’re a good distance away before it goes up in flames.”
I shoot him a look that saysseriously?but he ignores it and presses on.
“Anchor in sight of the island, so you have witnesses, but far enough away that no one can see movement on deck. And don’t forget to make it seem like you’ve gone to bed.”
His lips twitch with a smirk, but there’s no amusement behind it. Just a heaviness neither of us wants to acknowledge.
“A real shame, really, to destroy the boat. We’ve had some good times on it.”
“It’s just a boat, Rom.” I roll my eyes.
“Yeah, I know. And you’ve got another one waiting for you that can’t be traced back to you.” Rom tilts his head. “Have you confirmed it’s still there? Tiero arranged that some time ago.”
“Who would steal a yacht that’s anchored in a marina? It’s there for safekeeping, after all.”
“True.” He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair. “Moving on. I checked the underwater scooters. Batteries are charged, locator chips disabled. The scooters and the scuba gear are hidden in the large storage boxes, as are the disguises you’re wearing under your diving suits.”
His gaze flicks to me, and for a split second, I see the incredible sadness he’s trying to hide. Rom never gets sentimental, never lingers on what-ifs or could-have-beens. But this time is different.
