Page 59 of Star Claimed Omega
Soleil froze. Her throat went tight.
‘Why?’ she murmured, half in shock.
Wren huffed. ‘Because the XO of this mother ship said so, and when Santiago Alvarro gives an order, we don’t ask twice, we obey. See you when you’re back, woman, and don’t get into any more trouble, please.’
Soleil stood stunned as the call ended with a soft tone, and the holo image shimmered away.
‘Full time,’ she whispered.
The word hovered in the air, then she whooped, spinning once on the spot, relief bubbling up from deep in her aching ribs.
She clutched the counter, head down, as the emotion caught up to her. Trembling fingers pressed to her lips.
Santi had done this.
For the first time in forever, she was free to earn her own money on a permanent basis and perhaps save enough to shake loose her shackles.
It took her a few minutes to get used to the reality.
With a smile on her face and needing to freshen up, she stirred.
Rising to her feet, she padded to the corner chair.
Where the a small pile of her clothes - her gray sweats, a torn tee, her battered but intact sneakers from the night before - sat folded, and cleaned.
She ran her hands over them as her eyes filled up.
After dressing, she moved through the guest suite, sunlight warming her face.
The glass doors opened to a shaded terrace facing the artificial lake, and she curled up on the divan, a blanket wrapped around her.
The view was ethereal.
Floating watercraft cut soft Vs through the calm, lavender-blue surface, and white shorebirds skimmed overhead.
In the distance, mist clung to the rolling treeline, veiling the far shoreline in a dreamlike hush.
The water caught the light like liquid crystal, turning each ripple into a silver thread. Somewhere nearby, the breeze sang through the leaves.
A chime sounded, and a voice rang out from the speakers in the cabin.
‘Soleil, it’s Miral. The Signet Group’s Assistant. Is it OK for me to visit now?’
Soleil took a breath. ‘Of course.’
Seconds later, Miral shimmered into view on the terrace steps, elegant in a metallic bronze blazer, a short, tight skirt, and impossible bronze heels.
A hover case floated beside her.
‘I come bearing gifts. A fresh set of clothes, shoes, body wash, shampoo, and even makeup.’
Soleil stared, overwhelmed. ‘You didn’t have to.’
‘Santi asked me to,’ Miral said, eyes compassionate. ‘I also wanted to.’
‘He’s too kind,’ Soleil muttered, as she sat up. ‘Why, though? Why care at all?’
Miral gave a small, enigmatic smile. ‘While he comes across as a rake, it’s a veneer, Soleil. He’s a strategic operator who chooses with caution the people he lets into his world, home, and heart.’
