Chapter Fifty-Three Ella
Chapter Fifty-Three
Ella
We’ve just finished breakfast by the pool when Tiero’s phone rings.
It’s a ringtone I haven’t heard before. His eyes flick to the display and instantly harden.
Something shutters behind them.
He stands without a word, answering the call as he walks inside.
His voice carries through the house. Not loud. Sharper.
“Adesso.”
A beat.
“Non è accettabile.”
Silence follows. Thick. Unsettling.
What’s going on?
Tiero appears in the doorway, phone pressed to his ear, issuing clipped instructions in Italian.
My brows draw together as I watch him. His body is rigid, shoulders squared, every muscle coiled tight. He drags a hand down the back of his neck before letting it fall, fingers curling slowly into a fist.
His voice is cold. So damn cold.
Whoever is on the other end of that call is in serious trouble.
He looks downright frightening.
His face is set in hard lines, his jaw ticking. It’s difficult to reconcile this man with the one I woke up beside. I stay very still, unwilling to draw his attention.
What happened?
When the call ends, he doesn’t slam the phone. He sets it down with deliberate force and disappears inside.
I hesitate only a second before following.
In the bedroom, he’s already pulling on clothes. Veins stand out along his neck, his movements efficient and clipped.
I’ve never seen him like this.
“Tiero,” I say carefully.
He exhales through his nose, visibly forcing himself under control.
“I have to leave for a few hours. The helicopter will pick me up. You will stay here. Alonso will remain on the island. Call him if you need anything. I’ll be back later.”
There’s no warmth in his voice. No softness.
Okay.
I definitely don’t want to get in the way of whatever is happening.
This isn’t how I imagined the day unfolding. It’s the second last day of my vacation, but judging by the look in his eyes, being anywhere near him right now would be a mistake.
I leave the bedroom, grabbing my book from the nightstand. A tightness settles in my chest as I lower myself onto the daybed by the pool.
Inside, his voice carries again. Low. Controlled. Sharp.
What triggered this?
Did someone die?
The car incident from the day we met flashes through my mind. Was there another attempt? Was someone hurt? God, I hope Mateo is all right.
Moments later, Santino and Alonso arrive on quad bikes. They look as tense as Tiero, movements brisk and purposeful. Unease coils tighter in my stomach, the breakfast I just enjoyed lying heavy in my gut.
They nod at me as they head inside.
In the distance, the sound of an approaching helicopter begins to thrum through the air. It grows louder by the second.
Tiero steps out onto the terrace, now dressed in his customary suit. He walks over and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“Stay here,” he instructs.
As if I had anywhere else to go. I’m on an island with no means of getting away.
“Tiero, what happened? You’re scaring me,” I whisper.
“There’s nothing for you to worry about, princess,” he tries to reassure me, but fails.
“Wouldn’t it be better if I came with you and went back to my hotel? Then you can focus on whatever this is.”
“No.” His gaze sharpens. “Do as you’re told.”
The words hit like a slap.
All the air leaves my lungs.
I go very still, blinking once… twice, as if I misheard him.
He’s never spoken to me like that before.
I scramble for something to say. A protest. A joke. Anything.
Nothing comes.
Still stunned, I watch as Tiero straightens and turns away without another word, Santino already falling into step behind him. They mount the quad bikes and disappear down the path toward the heliport, engines roaring.
He doesn’t look back.
A short while later, the helicopter lifts off. The sound fills the air as it flies overhead and into the sunshine.
I watch until it becomes smaller and smaller, until it disappears over the glittering sea.
Only then do I exhale.
Alonso steps out of the house. For the first time, I notice he’s dressed casually in a T-shirt and board shorts. I’ve only ever seen him in suits. Seeing him like this feels strangely out of place.
“Alonso, do you know what’s going on?” I ask, hoping for more than I expect to receive.
“I’m sorry, Miss O’Neil. I’m not able to discuss it,” he replies firmly.
Of course he isn’t.
“What if Tiero is delayed? We’re meant to leave tomorrow.”
The thought has been circling ever since he told me to stay put. If I don’t leave by tomorrow afternoon, I will miss my flight on Sunday.
“I assure you, Miss O’Neil, all is well. Signor De Marco will return later today, and everything will proceed as planned.”
Easy for him to say. I have no other option than to wait and see.
“Would you like me to stay here with you?” he asks.
I hesitate. I don’t need a babysitter. And I assume I’m safe here on my own.
Alonso seems to read the shift in my expression. “No one can come to this island unnoticed. It’s completely safe.”
“Well, in that case, I’ll call you if I need anything. Grazie, Alonso.”
He nods. “I will be at the heliport house. I can be here within minutes.”
With that, he disappears down the path. The roar of another quad bike announces his departure.
Silence settles over the island.
Is this what Robinson Crusoe felt like on his deserted shore?
I almost laugh at myself.
This is nothing like that. I have shelter, food, and someone else here.
And yet, the unease lingers.
Right. I need a distraction.
I lie back on the daybed, pick up my book, and force myself into someone else’s world.
It works.
At least for a little while.