Chapter 2
TWO
GAbrIEL | AUSTRALIA
It’s been a few years since I was last in Australia, and it’s still as beautiful as I remember. Low clouds paint everything in a soft grey-blue, and the smell of rain hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the earthy sweetness of gum leaves.
I wish I could actually enjoy being here, but my anxiety is at an all-time high thanks to none other than Zalea Evans.
She’s been unreachable for about a week now—not that we talk everyday, but getting a frantic call from her personal trainer last night saying she bailed on the biggest surf competition in Hawaii? The competition that would have secured her a last minute spot on this tour? That’s cause for concern.
Zalea never misses a competition, and she’d never miss one this important.
I’ve been calling her phone all morning, but each call goes straight to her voicemail. Either she blocked me or she turned her phone off. I choose to believe the latter because there’s no universe in which Zalea Evans blocks me, not while I’m still her brother’s surfing coach.
I check my watch. My executive assistant, Reid, should be clocking in soon at Brightly Solutions—the company I inherited from my father.
Publicly, Brightly is just another online reputation-management agency.
We handle everything from press outreach to positive content campaigns, crisis PR, and digital forensics for clients who suspect internal leaks.
But behind the scenes, for our wealthiest clients, we do more. Content suppression, making articles disappear from the internet, recovering and deleting data through underground channels, covert surveillance using illicit camera access, and global facial-recognition cross-matching to name a few.
Brightly is how I afford my lifestyle. Coaching the Saltwater Shredders doesn’t even make a dent in what I make from my company, but I stay involved in the surfing world because I love it.
No one in that world knows about Brightly, except Zalea.
To everyone else, my resources are a mystery—and I like it that way.
Brightly is my secret weapon.
And right now, I need it.
I fire off a text to Reid to call me when he’s online, then send a message to Koa and Maliah. Maybe a quick gym session will help distract me.
Gabriel:
Meet me in the lobby. Training starts today.
Koa replies with a thumbs-up—no surprise there. Maliah, as usual, is more difficult.
Maliah:
I think I’m going to skip today’s training. I feel a bit sick from the flight.
I snort. She must really be exhausted to think I’d ever be okay with that.
Gabriel:
There are no sick days on tour. See you in five minutes.
Smirking, I change into my workout gear—not that I’ll actually be working out—and head for the elevator. My phone rings the moment the doors open and I glance down, my heart flip flopping when I see Reid's name flash on the screen an hour earlier than expected.
“You’re up early,” I answer.
“I could sense your distress from across the globe,” he mutters, followed by a dramatic slurp of his daily morning coffee.
“Zalea is missing,” I cut in. “Run a global facial-recognition search. I need results within an hour.”
Reid sputters, coughs, then thumps his chest. “I must’ve misheard you. It sounded like you said I have one hour to search the entire world.”
“You heard right.”
“Gabriel,” he groans, “that kind of search takes at least a day.”
“Reid, I also know that you can do it in an hour.”
With a grumble, he hangs up, and I decide to try Zalea again. I begin pacing the lobby and when the call goes straight to her full voicemail, I’m angry all over again.
A few seconds later Koa and Maliah approach me and I slide my phone back into my pocket.
“I might get an important call during training that will require me to leave early,” I say, because as soon as I find out where Zalea ran off too, I plan to follow. “So let’s try to get as much done as we can in the meantime.”
We make our way toward the onsite gym, and I swipe my key card to let us in. The hotel gym is exactly as pictured when I booked the accommodations. It’s spacious and bright with its high ceilings and large windows, and it’s clearly maintained well because it smells amazing here.
I watch as Maliah drops her bag onto a bench inside and slowly spins around as she takes it all in.
“Wow,” she whispers, her eyes bouncing all over the place.
I can’t hold back my smirk because god knows it’s almost impossible to actually impress that girl. “It’s a bit of an upgrade from Saltwater Springs’ gym,” I tease.
“That’s an understatement,” Koa replies, tossing his bag down.
I check my watch, noting how it’s barely been five minutes since my call with Reid, yet it feels like an eternity has passed. This is going to be one long hour.
“Alright,” I clear my throat, “we only have an hour, so let’s get started.”
For the next forty-five minutes, I watch Koa and Maliah struggle—not with weights, but with each other. Part of the reason I paired them for this tour is because I’m tired of their fake animosity and the way they eye-fuck each other when they think I’m not looking. Forced proximity works wonders.
Look at me, doing the people’s work.
At one point, Maliah’s ass brushes the front of Koa’s sweats during a squat and her face goes tomato-red while Koa’s jaw ticks—his only giveaway. I nearly laugh, but I force myself to look away.
When their set ends, I check my watch to see that there’s still time before I can expect a call from Reid. Wanting to keep busy, I grab a towel and disinfectant as I start making my way toward all the equipment they’ve been using.
“Alright, for the last fifteen minutes, let’s go over Bells Beach and what to expect from the waves,” I say as I start wiping down the machines. “Bells Beach has a long and explosive right-hander that will really test your rail game skills, so stay focused.”
I eye Maliah before continuing. “It’s not great for aerials, so don’t bother with those, just focus on carving.”
I watch the pair eye fuck each other again and bite back an exaggerated sigh.
Maliah turns to look at me, finally paying attention. “Anything else we should look out for?”
“The rip currents can get a bit trippy out there so it’s best to stay triangulated to avoid getting swept away to the sharks.”
Koa nods. “We should get a practice session in before the actual competition.”
“Not a bad idea,” I say. “I’ll plan something over the next few days.”
As if perfectly timed, a chorus of phone notifications goes off. I pull mine out of my pocket to find a text from Eliana in our team group chat.
Eliana:
Have you guys seen this article?
*LINK SHARED*
I curse when the browser loads, pissed as soon as I read the title of the article posted three hours ago by the Coastal Times Newspaper.
MISSING: SURF PRODIGY, ZALEA EVANS
Somehow the news slipped past me and Brightly. Easily fixable, but I have no doubt that the important eyes in the surf world would have seen this by now.
Zale:
Gabriel, do you know anything about this? Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Where is my sister?
A jolt of relief hits me knowing that he can’t reach her either. I’m definitely not blocked.
Kairi:
Zale, relax. I’m sure she’s fine.
Zale:
I wasn’t talking to you.
I roll my eyes. Another Maliah and Koa in the making.
Gabriel:
Enough.
Zale:
Where. Is. She.
I let out a frustrated growl as I start pacing, running a hand through my hair before I type out my reply.
Gabriel:
I don’t know. I’ve had my people looking for her all morning.
Zale:
You knew she was missing since this morning, and you didn’t think to fucking tell me? Are you out of your mind?
Typical. Somehow Zale always finds a way to make everything about him.
Griffin:
Enough, Zale.
Eliana:
I don’t know if this is much help, but she had mentioned to me on a VERY drunken night something about running away to Italy if all else fails.
My pulse spikes as I swipe out of our group chat and immediately call Reid.
“I still have five min-”
“Italy,” I snap. “Check if she’s in Italy.”
I start pacing again, further away from Maliah and Koa’s prying ears.
There’s typing, then a relieved exhale. “You might be onto something. I’ve just tracked her at the Hawaii airport a couple days ago boarding a flight to Italy. She changed into a different outfit mid-flight—smart girl.”
“You found her?” Relief floods me. “Where in Italy?”
I look back at Koa and Maliah, already planning how to share that I’m leaving them on the tour unsupervised.
“Rome,” Reid says.
“Rome?” I growl, pissed that she skipped her competition to play tourist. “Tell the pilot to get ready. I’ll be at the tarmac in thirty.”
I hang up, pinch the bridge of my nose, then face the two surfers.
“I have to go,” I say quietly. Guilt climbing up my throat. “I’ll video call you two every day to make sure you’re keeping up with training and getting along. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll send my pilot back here once I reach Italy so he can take you two to the next competitions.”
Koa nods immediately. “Understood. We’ll be fine.”
I wish I believed him–their dynamic has been a disaster all year–but I have no choice.
Koa bumps Maliah’s shoulder and winks, causing her to turn bright red.
“Y-yeah,” she stammers. “We’ll be fine.”
I grab my bag and head for my room, choosing to ignore the screaming doubt that they’ll be okay.
“Zalea,” I mutter under my breath as I head toward the elevator, “I’m coming for you, baby.”