Page 193 of Mine Again
I’ve only been here a few days, but it’s ridiculous how quickly I’ve grown attached. Maybe because Luca built this place for me, for our life together. Every detail is intentional, chosen with me in mind.
And now we’re leaving it behind with no promise we’ll come back. No promise it will even be here if we do.
Luca says this island is untraceable, but what if Hale or the authorities do find it and just blow it up?
A cold ripple works its way through my stomach, tightening with every step. My fingers twitch against Luca’s, wanting to grip him harder but afraid he’ll notice the tremor. I breathe slowly through my nose, forcing my lungs to keep a steady rhythm. His hand is warm and sure around mine. He’s my rock, my anchor.
Whatever waits ahead, I’m with Luca, and that’s all that matters.
We step outside into the dark. The air is cool, damp with the lingering breath of the sea. Luca lets go of my hand briefly to secure the house. Locks slide into place, alarms beeping in readiness.
Then he takes my hand again, his thumb rubbing slowly over my knuckles as we head for the path leading to the hangar where his helicopter waits.
Our footsteps crunch over the gravel. Luca never lets go, his grip steady and grounding. He lights the way with a flashlight, the beam cutting through the shadows in narrow slices.
The darkness feels oppressive, heavy and watchful, the kind that makes the hair on the back of my neck lift. Somewhere in the trees, something rustles, and I tell myself it’s only the wind.
I breathe easier when the hangar emerges ahead, its metal skin gleaming faintly in the moonlight. Inside, the air smells faintly of oil and metal. Luca deposits our two bags in the back of the sleek black helicopter waiting there.
I remember catching sight of it through the window on my first day here, wondering who pilots it. That seems like months ago now, though only days have passed. So much has happened since.
The helicopter itself is all sharp edges and smooth curves, the body gleaming as though it’s been polished for this moment. The glass cockpit reflects the dim light Luca switched on, the blades poised above like a sleeping predator’s wings.
I glance around the hangar, noticing for the first time how enclosed it is. There’s only one large garage-style door, and beyond it, dense trees block any direct path to the sky.
“How are you going to get this thing out of here?” I ask.
Luca’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he picks up something that looks like an oversized remote control and presses a sequence of buttons. A low hum fills the space, followed by a deep mechanical groan.
Slowly, the roof begins to split open. Panels slide back to reveal the night above, a velvet-black expanse scattered with thousands of stars.
For a moment, I stand there, head tilted back, enjoying the view. IfHale wasn’t trying to frame Luca for a heinous cybercrime, and we weren’t on a mission to clear The Venom’s name and reputation, this would be quite romantic.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Luca watching me, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I gesture upward to the open roof. “It’s like stepping into a James Bond film. Only I’m not a spectator but part of the mission.”
“Then I suppose that makes me Bond,” he says with a slow grin. “Hale’s the villain… and you, Isabella, are my Bond girl.”
“If I’m going to be a Bond girl, I’ll need one of those ridiculously suggestive names.”
His eyes warm with mischief. “With you, farfalla, the name would have to be far too wicked to say out loud in public.”
“Like?”
His grin deepens. “Like something that would make you blush every time I whispered it in your ear.”
“You can’t think of a name, can you?” I smirk.
He looks at me, narrowing his eyes. “Of course I can.”
I lift an eyebrow in challenge.
He taps his fingers on his thighs, pondering.
“Izzy Vixen, teasing, with a wink toward trouble. Or how about Isabella Vice? That sounds sophisticated and wicked at the same time.”
I scrunch up my nose.
