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As we approached the shoreline, Gio turned to me. “Stay behind me. Don't speak unless spoken to, and even then, say as little as possible. If anything happens, anything at all that feels wrong, you get back to the boat immediately. Understand?”

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.

The boat slowed as we approached a small, dilapidated dock. Figures appeared from behind the trees, and I gathered these were the men we were here to trade with. Each man, I noticed, was armed. They were more than we were, and suddenly, I was afraid.

But there was no going back now.

“Ready?” Gio asked, but he was looking into the darkness, not at me.

We got off the boat. I stumbled slightly on the uneven dock, and Gio’s hand reached out for me instinctively. Even angry, he couldn't help but watch out for me.

The men from the tree line approached, speaking in rapid Russian that I couldn't understand. Gio responded in Russian right back. For some reason, heat pooled in my belly. God, he sounded sexy.

The men led us down a narrow path through dense vegetation. The ground was uneven, and I often found Gio’s steadying hand at my elbow, on the rougher terrains.

We emerged into a clearing where several shipping containers stood in eerie silence. More armed men waited and watched her approach. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I tried to blend into the shadows behind Gio.

I watched the trade take place. Gio had told me we were visiting dangerous men, that I wasn’t to draw attention to myself and so I stood behind him, not asking a single question, trying to ascertain what was happening.

Gio passed them the suitcases, and when the men opened them, I nearly balked at the sight. They were full of cash.

When the cases arrived at our side, Gio nodded at his men. “Would you mind checking that, gentlemen?” he asked politely. His two associates opened the cases, and I peered over Gio’s shoulder, surprised by what I saw: pharmaceuticals.

Cancer drugs, insulin, and treatments for rare diseases, all packaged from foreign countries. This was not the weapons or hard drugs I had expected.

“Why these?” I whispered to Gio during a moment when the others were occupied with finalizing the trade.

His eyes never left the transaction, but he answered, “Because people need them to survive, and the official channels charge ten times what they're worth. Some parents can't afford to keep their children alive.”

Something in my heart blossomed. Even amongst criminals, I realized, there was honor.

I watched as he negotiated terms for the next exchange. Gio was polite and cool. He never flexed his muscles; he was humble. When one of his younger men made a mistake in the currency exchange rate, Gio corrected him gently, away from prying ears. The young man nodded his thanks, and Gio let him continue with the price setting for the next time around.

He operated differently than my brothers, who usually had a tendency to intimidate. I knew this from the conversations that sometimes took place at our home. Gio was… different. Kinder.

Something shifted inside me as I observed him. For the first time, I truly started to respect him. The attraction I felt for him was something different. Tonight, I saw him as much more. I saw the man he was beyond what he presented to me.

And in that moment, I knew Gio had never been someone he wasn’t. He’d never pretended, never manipulated. This was the man he was. Loyal, protective, a criminal but also kind and true.

A lump formed in my throat, and I wished, wished we could return to how things were between us—before we went to Cold Spring, before I made the mistake that cost us the perfect day.

A while later, Gio guided me back toward the boat with a gentle hand at the small of my back. The contact felt different now. More reserved. And I hated it.

The return journey began in silence. The other men dozed or spoke quietly among themselves, but Gio and I sat side by side, with inches between us. It was getting late.

I stared at the dark water, replaying the night's events.

“I've been unfair to you,” I said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Gio looked at me, and to my surprise, he said something I hadn’t expected: “No, Larissa. It’s me who should apologize.”

I stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Okay,” I murmured, nearly singing with joy that we were at least talking again. “I was not expecting that.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, the first I'd seen all night, but he said nothing more.

I took a deep breath. “I've been unfair. I was so fixated on proving my brothers' innocence that I haven't really listened to what you've been trying to communicate. Tonight showed me that things aren't as black and white as I wanted them to be. That day, I ruined an innocent, fun day and turned it into an agenda. I shouldn’t have.”