21. Winter
WINTER
“ D o you wanna get out of here? I heard some people at breakfast talking about the saunas in the spa wing. State-of-the-art, private, total luxury,” I ask Bianca as soon as Tristan gives me the signal.
I’m hoping that my voice isn’t shaking. The saunas, according to Tristan, is one of the only places at this resort without cameras.
This is his idea, I'm just playing my part.
“Oh, that sounds divine,” Bianca says, draping her arm across the back of my chair, leaning down with pleading eyes.
We’re out on the terrace that overlooks the rocky coast. It’s beautiful, but I can’t help but feel uneasy.
Last night was magical, and I’m sad that this morning everything came crashing in on us.
Not everything. Tristan and I will always have each other, no matter what.
I shake off my thoughts and finally look over at Bianca when she speaks again.
“I can’t stand being around the parents any longer, and you look like you could use a break from ol’ sweet disposition over there.
Where did you guys disappear to anyway in the middle of the night? ”
She points directly at Tristan, and I have to swallow down what I really want to say.
He’s over in the corner, keeping his intense eyes on me while he’s on a phone call.
Acting like everything is fine this morning has not been easy.
I know we have to bide our time, and Tristan has spent most of the morning on calls with the Moretti brothers, and I’ve been distracting Bianca because she’s, in Tristan’s words, a meddling busybody.
The fact that we’re at a Black Crown owned resort makes things a little complicated.
While I know Mr. Vale isn’t leaving here breathing, Tristan needs to clear things with the Morettis before he confronts his father.
Killing someone, even his own father, no matter the reason, on their property would be a sign of disrespect to them without the go ahead.
I don’t get to respond to Bianca who is looking at me expectantly, because her mother has arrived from what looks like a little shopping spree at the luxury stores located within the resort.
“Not so fast, Josh. Who’s going to help me with all of my bags?
” Emily’s shrill voice cuts through the lounge, drawing every pair of eyes in the room.
She’s holding what looks like at least ten bags.
I glance up just in time to see Josh heading toward the grand double doors that lead into the main elevators that will take him back up to where our rooms are.
Emily’s standing, shaking her curls down her back, holding up the bags and sighing.
I can see the tension coil through Mr. Vale’s back, even beneath his fitted black polo shirt, as Emily calls her son’s name twice more.
Josh doesn’t turn around. The automatic doors glide shut behind his blond head, and my stomach twists.
I’ve been watching Mr. Vale since we came down from our room, and something is off about the way he keeps glancing at Tristan.
I don’t know if he can tell that Tristan was alerted to his involvement in the carjacking, or if he’s just had some sick plan for us coming up to this resort all along.
Emily is complaining, pointing at her bags because Mr. Vale hasn’t moved a muscle to help her.
“Ugh, is she going to screech the entire time we’re here?” Bianca mutters, looping her arm through mine and tugging me to stand. She slings her arm around my shoulders like we’ve known each other forever, not barely a couple of days.
I don’t want to leave to get this whole thing started without one more hug from Tristan.
It feels like we just fully found one another, and I’m not ready for that to be over.
I fake a smile and pull away from Bianca.
I walk with purpose over to Tristan and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing up on my toes and press a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t be long,” I whisper, and I start to pull away. To my surprise, Tristan wraps me in his arms, hauling me against his chest and crushing his lips to mine in a searing, yet short kiss.
“I’ll make sure you’re safe. Don’t worry, you’re protected. Always,” Tristan murmurs against my mouth, and I can’t hide my little snicker that leaves my mouth when Emily gasps, loudly asking Mr. Vale if he sees his children kissing.
His children who he tried to murder and traffic, but that’s a discussion for another day.
Tristan swats me on the butt as I walk away toward Bianca, and I hear him saying something about the sauna to whoever is on the phone with him.
Bianca rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning, tugging me along the polished marble corridor toward the spa wing.
“So are we going to talk about that kiss?” Bianca finally asks, glancing over her shoulder because my legs aren’t as long as hers, and after last night’s activities, I’m sore. I’m having a hard time keeping up with her, and I don’t feel like telling her that Tristan and his…girth is the reason why.
“It’s new. I’m not sure what it means,” I hedge as we step into the spa’s reception.
The place gleams with glass and cedar, the air fragrant with eucalyptus and heat.
“He’s a good kisser,” I offer, and that part is true.
He’s the best kisser. I could kiss him all day and not get tired of it, and I hope when all this is behind us, that I’ll get the chance to test out that theory.
Bianca cuts me off with a shake of her head. “I mean his fixation on you. His father is so cold. One minute he acts like he likes someone and the next he’s like a stranger.”
Her tone is wistful, but it lands like a slap to my face.
It hits me all at once, and it’s something that I hadn’t considered.
Mr. Vale is with Emily to have access to her daughter, and Bianca one hundred percent on board with it.
I pretend I’m looking around because I know I can’t hide my expression of disgust.
I suspect Bianca is just experiencing Mr. Vale’s mask slipping, and she needs someone to talk about it without admitting the illicit affair she’s been carrying on with him.
My stomach twists. Could she be evil? Sure, but she could also be a dumb twenty-year-old girl who was lied to by a manipulative man. None of this is going to end the way she thinks it is, and for that I feel sorry for her.
I stiffen because so much is on the line right now.
I don’t have time to dwell on anything because we’re ushered into the sauna corridor, past frosted glass doors and hushed attendants in pale cream-colored uniforms. Steam curls faintly in the air, and if this was any other circumstance, it would be a relaxing environment.
“I wouldn’t really know, I don’t spend much time with Mr. Vale,” I say, forcing the words past my throat.
Bianca smiles like she thinks she’s smarter than I am.
Like I don’t realize what’s going on. She thinks she’s slick, and that I’ll give her some sort of information that will settle her uneasiness about the man double her age who is supposed to be madly in love with her mother.
She tucks a piece of her short hair behind her ear, dimples flashing as she tilts her head.
We’re shown into the dressing room, which is really just a fancy locker room.
Bianca starts undressing before the attendant even leaves, and I follow suit, wrapping myself in a robe before I take my underwear or bra off.
I hadn’t thought of this part when Tristan told me to suggest coming here to Bianca.
In my mind, I’d be clothed the whole time, but I wasn’t focused on how weird it would look to her for me to go into a sauna with my clothes on.
Bianca looks over at me, wrapped in her tiny towel, and raises an eyebrow inquisitively. I tell her, “The towel felt itchy, hopefully they won’t mind if I swipe this instead.”
She laughs like I’m just the silliest, and when she turns, I notice the deep purple bruise on the back of her upper arm.
It’s in the shape of a hand. I can point out the finger marks, and I don’t have to stretch my imagination to wonder who the culprit is.
It has Mr. Vale written all over it. I’m sure it hurts, but I’m not sure she realizes the bruise is there.
I mean, I guess she could just not care who sees it.
Once we’re inside the sauna, Bianca stretches her legs out on the bench, shrugging like this place isn’t bad, but it’s nothing to write home about. I catch myself glancing at the door, and I have to remind myself to relax. Tristan is in control, and I’ve done my part. I just need to wait.
“I want what you have with Tristan. The way he watches you? Most guys don’t act like that, Winter. He doesn’t blink when you move. Like he’s afraid if he looks away you’ll vanish.”
“He’s very special to me,” I tell her. It feels weird talking about Tristan to anyone else.
It feels like a violation, almost. We’re so connected, so secluded in the little bubble we’ve created together that prying eyes are an unwelcome invasion.
I don’t know this girl, and I wish her the best wherever she ends up after today, but I won’t be giving her any insight on what I share with Tristan.
He’s mine, and I’m his. There’s no room for anyone else in this equation.
Bianca studies me for a beat, her usual smirk softened into something almost thoughtful.
I look away, focusing on the curl of steam rising off the stones, willing the conversation dead. Because no one, not Bianca, not anyone, will ever understand. What Tristan and I have doesn’t fit into words.
And I’ll never let anyone twist it into something it’s not.
People think Tristan gets a bad rap because he’s gruff, demanding, impossible to be around. But they don’t understand. He isn’t like that because he wants control for himself, he’s like that because being separated tears us both apart.
Is it typical? Probably not. Will it change? No, and I can’t say I want it to.
It’s like some invisible string is pulling at my chest, tightening the longer I sit here without him. I should be sated after last night, but that doesn’t stop the craving for him. I want his attention. I want his eyes on me. I want my hand tucked inside his, where I feel safe.
I keep replaying the moment in the locker room when he called me baby for the first time.
His voice was so unguarded, that single slip of a word he let fall…
baby. It still makes my chest ache, makes my throat tight.
He didn’t even realize he said it. But I did.
I heard it, felt it, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it did to me in that moment.
The steam presses in around me, but all I can think about is him.
I hope he comes for me soon.
Because the truth is, I’m just as dependent on Tristan as everyone thinks he is on me.
“So is it just sex or do you actually like him?” Bianca presses. When I don’t bite, she smirks. “I just find it fascinating how intense he is with you. I mean, I get it…you’re very beautiful. But he is too. It’s not like he couldn’t have anyone he wanted.”
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “It’s more complicated than liking someone.”
She tips her head back against the cedar wall, letting the steam bead in her short hair. I follow her lead, leaning back until the heat seeps into my bones. For a moment, it almost feels like I’m relaxing.
Then a male voice slices through it. “Who do you like?”
The question shatters the bubble.
My entire body goes rigid. Just as planned, four men stand in the doorway of the private sauna, their shapes distorted through the thin veil of steam. They step inside, and I instantly recognize three of them. The other one makes my stomach coil. It’s the man who forced Tristan to hurt me.
The Moretti triplets are staring at me in my sweaty robe, and I know one thing in this moment.
Tristan didn’t think about the fact that I’d be undressed for this, and he’s going to be pissed.