27. Home #2
He wiped his hands on a dish towel and crossed the room, amusement tugging at his mouth. "Luca Santoro. Since apparently, we skipped the formal introduction."
"Maddie Brooks." She accepted his offered hand, then looked pointedly at me. "The sister who has heard a lot."
"Only the flattering parts," I said.
"There weren't enough flattering parts to fill a conversation."
Luca laughed and pulled her into a quick, easy hug instead. Maddie stiffened for half a second before returning it.
"It's good to finally meet you," he said. "Riley talks about you all the time."
Maddie stepped back and studied him with open curiosity. "That makes one of us. She's been suspiciously vague about you."
"I was trying to preserve some mystery."
"You're dating a former fighter with a recognizable face. Mystery was never an option."
Ava abandoned her shells and launched herself at Maddie, who caught her with a laugh. Within minutes, Maddie had been assigned a tour, introduced to every stuffed animal in the house, and informed that the resort video was "famous but not movie-star famous."
I watched my sister fit herself into the room without effort.
That scared me more than it should have.
Later, while Luca took Ava outside to water the balcony herbs, Maddie joined me at the sink. The late-afternoon sun turned the kitchen gold, softening everything it touched.
"So," she said, drying a glass. "When were you going to tell me you signed?"
"Today."
"After I found the contract?"
"I was building suspense."
She set the glass down. "And the panic?"
I stilled.
Maddie had always been annoyingly skilled at spotting the cracks I worked hardest to paint over.
"There's a situation," I admitted. "Someone's threatening to release photos."
Her face sharpened. "Of Ava?"
"Some. Maybe more."
"And Luca?"
"He called an investigator. Increased security. Refused to pay."
"Smart."
"It doesn't feel smart. It feels like standing still while someone points a weapon at us."
Maddie studied me. "Is that what you're afraid of, or are you already looking for the exit?"
I turned toward the balcony. Luca held the watering can while Ava carefully directed the stream into a pot, both of them taking the task far too seriously.
"I don't know how to trust something this good."
"Then trust what you built." Maddie's voice gentled. "The job. Ava. Him. None of that happened because you got lucky."
I swallowed.
"You have a habit," she continued, "of leaving emotionally before anyone gets the chance to leave you."
"That sounds like something from a terrible self-help book."
"It sounds like you."
Outside, Luca glanced through the glass and caught my eye. He smiled. I didn't look away. And in that moment, staying wasn't the dangerous choice.
Leaving before anyone could hurt me was.
Maddie had brought biodegradable water lanterns, each one folded from pale paper around a tiny candle that glowed warm at its center.
The breeze caught the paper edge, and Luca steadied the lantern before it could tumble across the sand. Ava trapped the paper frame between both hands and glared at the ocean as if the Atlantic had personally offended her.
"Hold still," she told it.
Luca crouched beside her in the sand. "I don't think the ocean takes instructions."
"It should."
Maddie laughed from the blanket behind us. Donny had brought a cooler and three flashlights, only one of which worked. The sky had gone violet at the edges, the last of the sun fading behind the resort.
My phone rested in my pocket with the blackmail countdown still running.
18:12:44.
I had checked it twice since we reached the beach. Luca had noticed both times and said nothing.
He handed Ava the lighter. "Ready?"
She nodded.
We had written one fear on each lantern before coming down. Ava's was monsters under the bed. Maddie's was bad decisions with bangs. Donny refused to show anyone his.
Mine had taken longer.
That I'm still temporary.
Luca's remained folded beneath his palm.
Ava's lantern filled first, glowing warm against her face before she gently set it on the ocean's edge. A small wave slipped beneath the lantern and drew it away from shore.
"One fear gone," she announced.
"Just like that?" I asked.
She shrugged. "You have to let it go."
Of course she made it sound easy.
One by one, the lanterns drifted across the dark water. Donny's nearly tipped before righting itself. Maddie saluted hers. Ava clapped for every flame.
Then Luca stood beside me, his shoulder brushing mine.
"What did you write?" I asked.
He looked toward Ava. "That I'd fail her again."
The answer cut through the soft rush of waves.
"You won't."
"I already did once."
"You were grieving. That isn't the same as failing."
He turned to me. "What about yours?"
I looked down at the lantern between us. "That the second I believe I belong here, I'll find out I was only temporary."
His hand closed over mine around the frame.
"Then don't trust the future," he said. "Trust tonight."
We lit the wick together.
The paper swelled, warm air gathering beneath our fingers. When we released it, Luca kept hold of my hand.
The lantern floated higher, joining the others above the black water.
Ava ran back to us and wrapped one arm around each of our legs. Luca bent, lifting her between us until all three of us were tangled together, laughing into the wind.
For a few minutes, I let myself believe fear could be carried somewhere else. That whatever waited beyond the glow couldn't reach us here.
Then my phone vibrated. I didn't reach for it.
Not yet.
The vibration came again as we crossed the moonlit path toward the house.
This time, Luca stopped.
"Check it."
Ava had fallen asleep against his shoulder, one hand curled into the collar of his shirt. Maddie and Donny walked ahead through the patio gate, speaking softly so they wouldn't wake her.
I pulled out my phone. The message was from Mara Bennett.
I decrypted a sample. You need to see this now.
An attachment followed.
For half a second, my thumb refused to move. Then I opened it.
The photograph filled the screen.
Luca and me on the balcony outside his bedroom, caught in profile beneath the amber light. His hand was threaded into my hair. Mine gripped his shirt. The kiss looked exactly as it had felt—hungry, private, impossible to mistake for anything less than us.
A timestamp sat beneath the image.
SCHEDULED FOR PUBLIC RELEASE: 12:00 A.M.
My stomach dropped.
Luca shifted Ava higher and read over my shoulder. His face went still.
"They have access to a posting queue," I whispered.
"Or they want us to think they do."
Mara called before I could respond.
I answered on speaker.
"The file is real," she said. "Metadata is intact. I'm tracing the upload source, but the account is routed through multiple servers. I need more time."
"How much?" Luca asked.
"I don't know."
My eyes stayed fixed on the photo. It wasn't explicit. It wasn't shameful. But the angle made it intimate in a way no stranger had the right to own.
"If this posts," I said, "they'll use it to rewrite everything."
"The contract," Luca said. "The resort. The kids' club."
"They'll say I slept my way into the job."
His gaze snapped to mine. "No one who knows your work will believe that."
"People don't have to believe it. They only have to repeat it."
Maddie had reached the back door, but she turned at the sound of my voice and stopped smiling.
Mara spoke again. "Do not engage with the sender. I'll update you within the hour."
The call ended.
Luca carried Ava into the house while Donny held the door, but I stayed on the patio for one beat longer, staring at the photograph.
All day, I had been afraid of losing what we built if the world saw too much. Maybe that was exactly what the blackmailer counted on.
I stepped inside and locked the door behind me.
"What are you thinking?" Luca asked.
I looked at the countdown.
04:17:26.
"That hiding is what gives them the weapon."
His eyes narrowed. "You want to release the photo ourselves."
"Not just the photo." I looked toward the hallway where Ava slept, then back at the contract folder on the counter. "The job. Us. All of it—before they get to twist it."
The house settled around us, quiet and familiar.
For once, I wasn't going to wait for someone else to decide which version of my life the world got to see.