CHAPTER 22
JULIAN
As Poppy walks toward the pool with Elena and Sofia flanking her at a distance, every instinct I possess screams to follow.
Many lifetimes of survival instincts, honed through a plague and too many wars, and nothing has felt as dangerous as watching her walk away in a sundress with a beach bag over her shoulder.
She looks back once. Catches me watching from the lobby window. Smiles.
I nod because right now I’m not capable of smiling.
“Marcus.” I speak his name, activating the earpiece. “Status.”
His voice comes through crisp and clear. “I’m in position. Security center, sub-level two. I’ve got eyes on the cameras covering the pool area.”
“Any sign of Damien?”
“Nothing yet. Last location was his room.” A pause. Keys clicking. “Elena and Sofia just entered the pool area. Poppy’s joining the bridal party group near the cabanas.”
Poppy disappears from my line of sight. Even from here, Marcus’s intel is more precise than my own observation.
“Keep me updated. Every movement. Every anomaly.”
“Understood.”
Our connection ends, and I head toward the suite where Nathaniel is waiting, lounging on the sofa enjoying a glass of blood.
“The ladies have their orders?” he asks as I enter.
“Watch and wait. Engage only if Damien attacks.” I cross to the window. The pool is visible from here if I angle myself correctly—a flash of blue water, colorful umbrellas, the distant sound of laughter. “Marcus will be feeding us real-time intel on Damien’s movements from the security center.”
“Smart. Using the resort’s own infrastructure against him.”
“One advantage of owning the property.” I turn to face him. “The Council is watching, too. If we move first, we lose any protection their laws might offer.”
“The Council.” Nathaniel takes another drink. “You really think they’ll intervene?”
“I think they’ll use any excuse to consolidate power. Damien’s vendetta is personal, but if I kill him without justification, it becomes political.” I pull up the tactical display on my tablet. “I won’t give them that leverage.”
“So we let him get close enough to threaten her. Close enough to hurt her.”
“Close enough to damn himself. There’s a difference.”
“By the way, this is some of the best blood I’ve had out of a bag,” he pours himself another drink. “Very fresh. Would you like one?”
“I suppose I should.”
“You’ll need all the energy you can get,” he says as he hands me my glass.
“Another perk of owning LifeSource Medical.” I hold my glass up and toast him in the air. “I made sure the Bahamas were part of its expansion plans.”
I don’t waste time enjoying my drink as I polish it off. Other priorities demand my attention right now.
“You have to love it.” He follows suit. “Ah, fresh blood in a beautiful vacation spot. I’m glad someone finally realized we still need somewhere to relax.”
“I will not lie; it has been quite profitable having a hotel that can cater to our needs.”
Marcus comes through my earpiece. “Julian. Facial recognition just flagged something. East entrance. Male, approximately thirty years old, matching Damien’s build and gait pattern. Face was obscured. If it is him, he knows where the cameras are.”
“Of course he does.” I relay the information to Nathaniel. “Marcus, can you patch me into the pool feeds?”
“Sending them through now.”
I pull the feed up on my tablet and send it to the TV. “I’m in.”
Marcus again. “Julian, we have movement. East garden, near the service entrance. Same build, same gait. He’s circling the property, staying in the blind spots. He’s mapped every camera angle.”
“Can you get a clear image?”
“Working on it. But he’s good. Whoever taught him to move like that—” Marcus stops. “Wait. Right. That would have been you.”
The irony isn’t lost on me. I spent decades teaching Damien to evade detection, to move through the world like a shadow. Now those same skills are being used against me.
“Keep tracking. Let me know the moment he approaches the pool or any of her family. And can you patch Nathaniel in to these reports? It would be more efficient than me relaying all the information.”
“Understood.”
I update Nathaniel. His expression darkens.
“He’s testing your defenses.”
“He’s reminding me that he knows this game as well as I do.” I set down my phone. “What resources do we have?”
I open the tactical display on my tablet and send the mirrored image to the TV showcasing the maps Marcus prepared. Everything we would need: the resort and the wedding venue with all entrances, exits, and blind spots marked.
“Weapons cached at three locations. Here, here, and here.” I mark the points. “You’ll have access to all three. Silver, blessed blades, the usual.”
“Stakes?”
“Traditional but effective. Elena prefers blades, Sofia has her own preferences, but stakes are available if needed.”
“Exit strategies?”
“Boat standing by at the marina. Marcus has contacts in Miami who can provide extraction if we need to disappear quickly.” I zoom in on the wedding venue.
“The ceremony is tomorrow at four. Open-air pavilion, good sightlines but limited cover. The reception follows in the main ballroom—more enclosed, easier to control access.”
“You think he’ll wait for the reception?”
“I think he wants maximum impact. The ceremony is about Violet and Chris. The reception is when Poppy’s family gathers, when the cameras come out, when everyone is relaxed and vulnerable.” I pause. “That would be the most likely time to strike.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s when I would do it. But we’ll be prepared either way.”
“How do you think he’ll attack?”
“I don’t know.” The admission burns. “Damien has always been patient. Creative. He’ll have something planned that I haven’t anticipated.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be prepared for whatever he throws at us.”
“I hope so,” I switch to the live pool feed. “Because I don’t think I could handle losing her.”
Poppy is there—a splash of color among the lounge chairs, surrounded by women in swimsuits and sun hats. Her sister’s bridesmaids. Laughing. Drinking champagne. Normal.
She looks happy.
I watch the steady rise and fall of her shoulders as she laughs at something someone said. Watch her tilt her face toward the sun. Watch her be human in all the best possible ways.
Elena is positioned by the pool bar, a book open in her lap. Sofia is on a yoga mat near the entrance. They’re watching. They’re ready.
“Well, ya got two of the fiercest ladies that I’ve ever met,” Nathaniel throws his arm over my shoulders and pulls me in. “They’ll never let anything bad happen to her.”
“Julian.” Marcus activates my earpiece. “I lost him.”
The words hit like ice water. “What do you mean you lost him?”
“He went into the staff quarters, where there’s a gap in camera coverage. I’ve got eyes on both exits, but he hasn’t emerged from either.”
“What else is in there?”
“Laundry facilities.”
“What about service tunnels?”
“Checking now.” More keys clicking. “There’s an old utility passage that isn’t on the current blueprints. Built in the sixties, before the resort expanded. If he found it…”
“He found it.” Of course he did. Damien would have mapped this entire property before he ever set foot on it. “Where does it lead?”
“I’m pulling the original blueprints. Give me five minutes.”
“You have three.”
Each minute—scratch that—second felt like an eternity.
I wasn’t paying attention to the time when Marcus said five minutes, but I was growing impatient.
“Marcus.” I activate again. “Status on those blueprints?”
“Found the passage. It runs beneath the main buildings and exits at three points—the marina, the east garden, and…” He pauses. “The pool maintenance building.”
Dread overcame me. “How far from the pool?”
“Thirty meters. Maybe less.”
“Everyone.” I use the broadcast trigger. “Damien may have underground access to the pool area. Stay alert.”
“Understood,” Elena’s voice comes through. “We have eyes on Poppy. Nothing unusual yet.”
I grip the balcony railing. Every instinct screams at me to move. To leap from this balcony and cross the distance. To stand between Poppy and whatever’s coming.
But I hold.
Because she asked me to trust her. Because she’s stronger than I gave her credit for. Because if I keep treating her like someone who needs protection instead of someone who makes her own choices, I’m no better than Preston—controlling the narrative instead of respecting the person.
“Marcus.” My voice is rough. “If he surfaces anywhere near that pool—”
“You’ll know the second I do.”
The connection times out. I stand at the balcony, watching, waiting, counting heartbeats that aren’t mine.
Poppy’s phone appears in her hand. She’s texting someone—Sage, probably. Then she sets it down. Reaches for her champagne.
And freezes.
I see it happen. The exact moment she senses something wrong. Her shoulders go rigid. Her head turns, scanning.
Then I see him.
Damien. Walking along the path toward the pool bar. Casual. Unhurried. Wearing linen pants and a white shirt like any other wealthy resort guest.
“Everyone.” My voice is steady despite the fear clawing at my chest. “He’s here. East path, approaching the pool bar.”
“We see him.” Sofia’s voice is tight. “Orders?”
I watch Damien pause at the bar. Order something he won’t drink. Scan the area with a laziness that doesn’t fool me for a second.
His eyes find Elena. They move past her. Find Sofia. Move past her, too.
Then they find me.
Standing on a balcony, watching.
He smiles.
And he begins walking toward Poppy.
“Hold position,” I say. “Let him approach. Don’t intervene unless he tries to harm her.”
“Julian—” Elena starts.
“Those are my orders.” My hands are white-knuckled on the railing. “Poppy can handle this. She needs to handle this.”
I watch Damien close the distance. Watch Poppy set down her champagne glass. Watch her remove her sunglasses and turn to face him with that stubborn set to her jaw I’ve come to love.
She doesn’t run.
She doesn’t call for help.
She faces him.
Damien sits on the lounge chair beside her. Casual as anything. Like they’re old friends catching up.
I can’t hear what they’re saying from here. Can’t read their lips at this distance. But I can see Poppy’s body language—the way she holds her ground, the way she meets his eyes without flinching.
“Marcus.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “Can you get audio?”
“Working on it. The directional mics aren’t positioned for that section of the pool. I’m working on switching you to Poppy’s open mic.”
I stand frozen on the balcony, watching the woman I love face a monster I created.
Unable to help. Unable to intervene. Trusting her to handle what comes next.
This is either the bravest thing I’ve ever done or the most foolish.
Probably both.