Chapter 29
Sophie
Xavier flips a switch, and the private gym illuminates under glaring overhead lights. A workout is part of his morning routine, incorporated into the only gap in his busy schedule—before dawn.
Since the attack, I’ve found myself rolling out of bed with him, compelled by a sick twisting in my gut—a jack knife right to the stomach every time I think of how I thought, even for a moment, that I could let my guard down here.
Any sense of security I had is gone.
The truth is inescapable.
Our lives will always be in danger. Because we have something to lose, we will never be stronger than they are. It feels like it’s only a matter of time before the next threat.
We should both be prepared for it.
By the time I’ve stretched and settled into the leg press machine, he’s finishing the chest press, switching to an indoor row trainer, applying the same discipline to his exercise that he maintains throughout the rest of his day.
There isn’t an ounce of excess fat on him, which becomes totally apparent while watching him blast through pull-ups, focused on engaging his core and targeting his lats.
After a few minutes, his nylon shirt is soaked with sweat, clinging to that sculpted body he puts so much effort into.
Every so often, when our eyes meet across the room, and I’m caught appreciating the view, he flashes a smile that brings my pulse to life, enjoying every minute of watching me lose my concentration.
Despite everything, we cherish every single day together.
No fighting. No desire to spend time apart.
When his long days end, he finds me wherever I am, choosing to review contracts and work in whatever room I'm using at the time.
On the days he gets home before I do, having gone into the city with Dante or Zeke to see Courtney, I return to a meal on the table and all of his attention.
I never doubted the vows Xavier made to me in that beach house, nor the ones he made on our wedding day.
Each night, he’s there, slipping under the covers to spoon me close.
And every morning, he’s usually between my legs, coaxing me to consciousness and filling my senses with ecstasy before our day even begins.
The routine helps.
It keeps me grounded when everything else is changing.
We keep all of our gatherings small and outside the house, except for the weekly dinners with our close gang of friends. Bianca got her chance to extract information from me at one of the fundraisers we attended last week, and somehow, my lies were convincing enough. I’m getting better at them.
My mother’s reappearance caused an unexpected wound, and I felt a sense of relief when Xavier told me her plane had arrived in California. She was safe. In a sense, it meant one less person to resent, a small relief from the daily burdens I carry.
That’s enough.
For me and her, it’s probably the best we’ll get.
Xavier and I hop on the treadmills together. I ask about his schedule, feeling reassured by knowing exactly where he’ll be. He hides nothing, as if he’s glad to have someone to share it with, and redirects the question to me.
Typically, I leave for the city, but today, Dante’s going to teach me computers—specifically, hacking. When I told him I wanted to learn and preferred Xavier not know about it, I received a blunt but loyal “ fuuuuck no.”
The attack shifted his perspective.
I need to know everything.
I will never be in the dark again.
Xavier smiles when I reveal that I’m staying home today, visibly relieved by the news, as staying home allows him to leave with peace of mind. I very seldom provide him with that reassurance; I prefer to escape this place whenever possible.
Because when he’s not here, it isn’t home.
The guilt of lying to him is overshadowed by my need to keep him alive, reminding me of a time when we had to run for our lives, and I depended on him for every decision, feeling useless when it mattered.
He winks as I hop off the machine and head to the mirrors to start wrapping my hands with tape.
I lock in once I’m pounding a punching bag, while the room distorts into a dilapidated compound in Reykjavík.
The air feels as if it’s filled with frost, and the ground is hard cement rather than screw-fixed plywood.
My arms root to the sandbag, leveling my anxiety with every punch.
The final part of the workout is my favorite.
The knives in my palms are a reassuring weight as I dig my shoes into the ground, stiffening my form before unleashing them on the fixed target at the end of the track.
In a separate room of the gym, where Xavier once brought me to teach me how to fire a gun at the beginning of our marriage, I lose track of time piercing holes in the target, exploring different ways to move my body to ensure I hit my marks.
While the compound in Iceland emphasized hand-to-hand training, this gym has enhancements, such as the ability to flip a switch that shuffles the target around the edge of the room, with the mechanism shifting up and down like a person.
My arms aren’t as agile as they were when training was my constant, but they pitch the sharp blades with swift precision, battering the board with lethal assaults. I gasp as the last blade is lodged, turning off the machine so I can gather the blades to restart.
“You learned all this in a year?”
Turning, I find my husband with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall behind the spotlights, a damp towel draped over his shoulder.
Xavier’s hair is pulled back from his face, revealing sharp cheekbones and a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.
The dim light catches the angular contours of his face, subtle shadows accentuating his focus.
Knowing he was watching me, a master of skills, my pulse quickens, the heat of awkwardness flushing my cheeks. “Yes.”
“When did you sleep?”
My smile conceals the real answer to that.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
“For the millionth time, you need to infect the site with malware first.”
Dante grins at my scowl.
“This is my first day, you remember?”
“What can I say? I'm a terrible teacher,” he spouts.
“Your words, not mine.”
He gapes at my quip, pointing at the impossible codes on the screen. “The malware will gain you backdoor access and buy time before they notice. You need to find an unprotected pathway into their network so you can insert whatever you need to.”
My random clicks are futile. This could— will —take years to master. “This is how you get information?”
“Yep. The internet is the source of literally everything. The government and police are almost entirely online now. But most of the time, we’re wading the black market.
That’s where the real information can be found.
It’s all about programming and creating sites for specific purposes.
It’s how Xavier could track you down in Madrid without leaving a trace.
It took him a day or two, but he located you through security cameras, and then he pieced together your whereabouts back to your little apartment above the café. ”
“That’s insane.”
“But extremely convenient when needed.” He types on the keys in incognito mode, pulling up a few screens.
One of them has all my data already in the system.
“I don’t go near this site unless necessary.
Forging documents is mainly Bo’s thing, and even then, he usually finds someone else to do the printing. ”
“This seems… really dangerous.”
“Better than the alternative.”
“And what’s that?”
“Death.” He nods at my uneasy gaze. “This is how we stay one step ahead of the Feds. We cipher through wiretaps and phone calls to anticipate attacks. Without this information, we’d be blind.”
“And you’ll teach me what you know?”
He nods. “As long as you tell Xavier about it, eventually. Either way, he’s going to chew me out.”
“When doesn’t he?”
Dante grins, tapping on the screen. “Good point.”
Over time, the maple trees redden like rubies.
Giulia’s gardens wither, no match for the chilling winds sweeping through the estate. I frequently find myself laying in the grass, savoring the fading warmth of summer.
The handmade quilt beneath me flutters in the breeze.
It’s unusually sunny today.
The rose bushes hum with busy bumblebees, and robins sing and chirp near the fountain, their splashes resonating in the basin of water. In this secluded spot, away from the house, the guards stay silent, only the leaves rustle and tumble down, piling up at the forest’s edge.
The Iliad lies speared on the blanket beside me. The ants have long since started to feast on my lunch, more interested in the sweet fruit than in me. I can’t be bothered to move until I hear footsteps approaching… and I’m immediately imagining the worst, waiting for the pin to drop.
But only Xavier is heading this way in his three-piece suit.
I push myself up, shielding my eyes from the sun with my forearm as I squint at him. “Has something happened?”
“No.”
“But you’re home.”
He nods, slipping off his shoes at the edge of the blanket, followed by his jacket and tie. He beams even wider as I lie flat, laughing when he crawls over me, planting kisses along my arm, across my throat, and right onto my lips.
“I had to see you.”
My arms wrap around him, my fingers diving into his hair. “So I have you? All to myself? You don’t have to go back?”
He nips at my bottom lip. “ Yes .”
“It’s so early. We have a whole day.”
“Mm. Whatever you want, let’s do it.”
“Anything?”
He sighs when I nuzzle against him, rolling until he’s on his back, with me draped over him like a blanket. “Yes. ”
“I could make you cook.”
“I’ll do it, but you won’t like it.”
“I could drag you to another museum.”
“You could.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear to prevent it from blowing in our faces and gaze at him, amazed. “Something happened. You’re too compliant. And you won’t stop smiling.”
Grabbing my hand, he presses a tender kiss to the underside of my palm. “Something did happen.”
“What?”
He stretches across the blanket to reach for his suit jacket, feeling around for the pocket. I rest comfortably on him, my chin propped on my hands, watching him pull out a folded document with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. It’s rare for him to be excited about anything.
Xavier passes me the paper.
I smirk at him, unfolding the flaps as he brushes my hair away from my eyes. “What is it?”
“I’ve spent months on this. It was finalized an hour ago.”
DEED OF LAND
Words in bold at the top of the page make my heart skip a beat. “Xavier.”
Once my eyes dare to drift from the deed to look at him, he smiles so softly, making me think he must be nervous.
“I needed to make sure it was perfect. There are plenty of acres we can use. A river flows through it.” He takes the paper from my frozen hands and places it beside us.
“I figure we can build the house right next to it.”
The house.
A house.
A home .
“Our home?”
He nods. “I’ll build it from the ground up. Every inch of it will be ours. You can have a library filled with your books. We can make a kitchenette since you don’t like to cook. You can get all that art you love and fill every room with it.”
“You didn’t do this.” My eyes bounce around the sprawling estate we’ve been trapped in, my heart slamming against the walls of my chest, unable to grasp that he could be freeing us from it all. From that home. From that goddamn prison. “You…”
“Are you happy?”
Happy isn’t the right word.
Honestly, I don’t think a single word can convey what I feel as tears fill my eyes, overwhelmed by the awe of being truly seen .
And that one single thought sends me over the edge until the force of my sobs are shaking my weary body.
I spring up to cling to his shoulders, burying my face in his neck.
The burden of these grounds, the years they’ve tormented me, all of it starts to fade away.
Xavier’s eyes glisten with laughter, delight radiating across these blood-smeared grounds as he gratefully absorbs all the love I give him. My lips are everywhere, thanking him for the trouble. For caring enough.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He smiles against my eager lips, rolls me onto the blanket, and draws me close. “I’ve got you, baby.”