Chapter 23
SOLEI
My hands shook as I handed Money back his burner. The call with Darius lasted less than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime. His voice was confused, hurt, and devastated.
Money took the phone from my trembling fingers, slow and deliberate, and slipped it into his pocket.
He didn’t say a word. He just looked at me with those dark, knowing eyes.
I hated that he saw through me. Hated that he understood the guilt, devastation, relief, fear, and the shameful, traitorous part of me that finally felt alive.
“You did good, baby,” he said finally, his voice low and smooth.
I wanted to slap him and demand he turn the jet around and take me home. Instead, I turned away and stared out the window at the endless stretch of blue ocean below us. “Don’t,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t act like this is some victory. You forced me to make that call.”
“I didn’t force you to do shit. I gave you a choice, and you made it.”
“There was no choice involved in this at all.”
“There was.” His hand came to rest on my knee, firm and possessive. “You could’ve told me no and refused to get on this plane. You could’ve made a scene in front of the kids and fought me every step of the way, but you didn't.”
I closed my eyes, hating that he was right. I hadn’t fought because some sick, twisted part of me had wanted this. Like… maybe I wanted Money to take the choice away from me so he could be the villain and I didn’t have to be. “You kidnapped us,” I said, but even I could hear how weak it sounded.
“I’m takin’ my family on vacation.” His breath was warm against my ear. “Ain’t nothin’ illegal about that.”
“You manipulated everything.”
“I won the war.” His hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck, his grip gentle but unmistakably controlling.
“And you know what? You’re relieved. Don’t lie to me, Soul.
I know you better than you know yourself.
You’ve been drownin’ tryin’ to be someone you’re not, and I just threw you a fuckin’ lifeline. ”
I wanted to argue and tell him he was delusional. Tell him that I loved Darius, but the words wouldn’t come to save my soul.
???
The jet landed an hour later on Isla Parisio.
The name alone made my chest tighten with memories.
We’d come here for our honeymoon three days after our courthouse wedding.
After he’d stacked enough money to afford a private island getaway, after he’d proven to himself that he could give me the world.
It had been perfect then. The kind of trip you see in movies–white sand beaches, crystal-clear turquoise water, sunsets that looked like they’d been painted by God himself.
He fucked me in the villa, on the beach, and on the patio under the stars.
We’d laughed and talked about our future, about the kind of love we had and the life we’d build together. I felt safe then. Loved. Chosen.
Now, stepping off the plane onto that same pristine tarmac, unease swept over me, tangled with nostalgia.
The air was warm and humid, carrying the scent of salt and tropical flowers, and the sky was impossibly blue, dotted with white clouds that looked too perfect.
In the distance, I could see the villa–a sprawling two story structure with floor-to-ceiling windows and an infinity pool blending into the ocean.
It was beautiful. It was paradise. But I felt like I was walking into a trap.
“Mommy, look!” Solina’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. She was already running toward the villa, her little legs pumping with excitement. “Look at the beach! Oooh, and look how big our pool is!”
Junior was more reserved, but even he looked impressed. “This place is crazy,” he muttered, pulling out his phone to take a picture.
Money walked past me, his hand briefly brushing the small of my back as he headed toward the kids. “Y’all hungry?” he called out. “Chef’s already got food ready. And I had them set up the game room. PlayStation, puzzles, and toys.”
Junior’s eyes lit up. “For real?”
“For real. Y’all check it out and settle in your rooms. Clothes and everything you need are available.
” I watched as the kids ran toward the villa.
Money had thought of everything. Of course, he had.
“They’re gonna be occupied for a while,” Money said, turning back to me.
His voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but.
“You planned this,” I said, my voice hollow. “Every fucking detail.”
“Yeah, I did.” He stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “I wanted my kids to be happy, and I made sure there’s nothin’ else to focus on but us.”
“There is no us, Money.”
“It’s always been us.” His hand came up to cup my jaw, forcing me to look at him.
I wanted to pull away and tell him to go to hell, but his touch was warm and familiar, and I was so goddamn tired of fighting. “I hate you,” I whispered.
“Stop sayin’ that shit.” His thumb brushed across my bottom lip. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall as he led the way inside the villa.
It was exactly as I remembered it. The open floor plan.
White walls. Luxurious furniture. Solina and Junior were already in the game room, their laughter echoing through the villa.
The chef–a kind-looking woman in her fifties–had set out a spread of food on the outdoor dining table.
Fresh fruit, grilled fish, rice, and plantains.
The kind of meal that would’ve made my mouth water under different circumstances.
Money leaned against the fridge with his hands in his pockets, watching me with that infuriating calm. “You should eat,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“When’s the last time you ate, Soul?”
“I’m not hungry,” I repeated, my voice sharper.
He didn’t push. He just nodded slowly, like he was filing that information away for later. “Well, as I’ve mentioned, the kids are good,” he said after a moment. “I’ll make sure they eat and get them settled in their rooms. You don’t have to worry about them.”
“I always worry about them. I’m their mother.”
“I know.” His expression softened, just slightly. “But right now, you need to worry about what happens next.”
“What happens next?” I laughed, but it came out bitter. “You tell me, Montana. You’re the one running this show.”
He moved then, crossing the kitchen in three long strides until he was standing right in front of me. “What happens next,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “is you stop runnin’. You stop pretendin’. You stop lyin’ to yourself about what you want.”
“I wanted Darius.”
“Bullshit.” The word was harsh, cutting. “You wanted safe. You wanted easy. You wanted someone who wouldn’t challenge you or push you, or make you feel anything real. But that’s not love, Solei. That’s settlin’.”
“And what you’re doing is love?" I shot back. “Kidnapping me? Forcing me to call off my engagement? Trapping me on an island?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Because I know you. I know that if I gave you more space, you’d convince yourself you made the right choice. You’d marry that muthafucka out of obligation and spend the rest of your life wondering what if. I’m not lettin’ that happen."
“You don’t get to decide that!”
“I already did.” His hand came up to grip my chin, tilting my face up to his. “And deep down, you’re glad I did. You’re glad I took the choice away. You’re glad you don’t have to be the bad guy.”
“I just…” My voice cracked, confusion and despair mingling inside me. I closed my eyes, unable to hold his gaze a moment longer as hurt welled up behind my eyelids.
“Look at me.” I didn’t. “Baby, look at me.” Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes. His expression was intense, possessive, unrelenting. “Eat something. Relax.”
I exhaled as I watched him walk away, disappearing down the hall. “God, help me,” I whispered to myself, genuinely hoping for a sign or a miracle.
???
Later, after the kids had eaten and Money had made sure they were showered and situated with promises of beach time tomorrow, I lay out on the patio alone, staring out at the ocean.
The sun was settling. It painted the sky in shades of orange, pink, and purple.
The water was calm, mirroring those colors.
This was the same view I’d fallen in love with years ago–the same view I’d dreamed of during the worst moments of our separation.
I heard the soft sound of his footsteps on the deck, the familiar presence that made my entire body tense and relaxed at the same time.
“Kids are straight,” Money said, coming to sit beside me on the plush couch.
“Soso fell asleep mid-sentence and Junior’s in the game room.
” I nodded but didn’t respond. We sat there in silence, the sound of the waves filling the space between us.
“You remember the first time we came here?” He asked finally.
“Don’t.”
“I fucked the soul out of you right here on this patio.” His voice was soft, almost reverent. “You wore that cream sundress. The one that drove me crazy all damn day. And when the sun went down, I couldn’t wait anymore."
“Money…”
“You told me you loved me.” He turned to face me fully. “You told me you’d never leave. That we were forever.”
“That was before…”
“…before I fucked up. I know.” He leaned in closer.
“Before I cheated. Before I lied. Before I chose the game over you. I know all that, Soul. But here’s what you need to understand.
I’m not that nigga anymore. I’ve spent the last year and a half working on myself to become worthy of you again. A man who deserves a second chance.”
“You don’t get to decide if you deserve it.”
“You’re right. You do.” His hand came up to cup my face, and this time I didn’t pull away. “So decide, baby. Right here, right now. Are you gon’ keep fightin’ this and keep pretendin’ you don't want me? Or are you gonna be honest with me about what you really want?”
I looked up at him, at the man I’d loved and hated and never stopped thinking about, and felt something inside me break. “I don’t know what I want,” I whispered.
“Yes, you do.” His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. I closed my eyes, breathing in his cologne, his warmth, and his presence.
And as I sat there, trapped on an island with the man who’d orchestrated my entire life falling apart, I realized something terrifying. I genuinely didn’t want to fight him. I didn’t want to run anymore. But I couldn’t make it easy for Money. I just couldn’t.