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"It's alright,Gioia," he assured her with a chuckle.

Once their bags were carried into the house, he tipped and thanked the driver before he left. "I didn't even pack for a vacation, P," Britain told him as she snaked her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest.

"Don't trip off that. I have everything figured out," he assured her as he cupped her plump rear in his hands.

The two roamed the villa, taking in all the amenities and the beauty of it. The backyard was fitted with a perfect view of the water just beyond the hot sandy shore. Despite the house being a waterfront property, it was still equipped with a stunning infinity pool that mirrored the ocean nearby. "Awe, this reminds me of the Hamptons," Britain reminisced as they both gazed over the scenery.

"It does," he agreed. "But we're not in the Hamptons. We're in Spain, where the thought of New York shouldn't cross your mind."

Britain laughed as she nodded, taking note of Priest's response. "Out of sight, out of mind."

"That's better." Priest smiled as he craned down to kiss her lips.

Despite how thrilled the two were to be in Ibiza, they couldn't really fight their jet lag after the lengthy flight. Instead of goingout for dinner like he intended to, they decided on staying in to relax.

Priest now stood between Britain's legs as she sat on the countertop of the bathroom sink. She had a small damp washcloth in hand and was using it to cleanse both of Priest's stitched up wounds. His injuries still hurt to the touch, so she was being extremely cautious of the amount of pressure she applied. Even the slightest touch would have him clenching his jaws in pain.

"Have you heard about your father?" Britain asked sporadically as she attempted to distract him from the pain he was in.

Priest’s eyes shifted away from her cautious hands and focused on her face. He had his face screwed up in a distasteful manner, completely caught off guard by the question. "Leonard," he quickly corrected her referencing him as his father. "And why are you asking?"

Britain’s orbs peered up from the wounds, eyeing him. She then noticed the frown on his face, which made her regret mentioning Leonard. She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, P. I was just wondering, y'know, with all the chaos going on," she explained.

Priest licked his lips, bracing himself for the pain he felt whenever Britain tapped the damp towel against the wounds. "Look, Brit. I don't want you getting mixed up in anything else?—"

"Priest, we're just talking. That has never stopped us before," she reasoned, trying her best to not be shut out by him.

Priest sighed. "Yeah,Gioia, but that was before you almost jumped in front of a bullet for me," he reminded her, shaking his head.

"I wasn't successful," Britain scoffed before pointing to Priest's injuries. "Clearly."

Britain was doing what she did best:hovering. Whenever he was serious about the matter, she committed herself to being as lighthearted about it as possible. He was the one who had gotten physically hurt. She didn't think she had the right to be the one emotionally obsessing over the issue.Priest used his hand to guide Britain's head up so he was peering right into her eyes.

"Stop," he ordered her in a stern voice. He was aware of what Britain was doing and didn't like it at all. After spending a night crying and expressing to him how scarred she was by the incident, she had now completely detached herself from it. She felt like she had her moment and was ready to put it behind her.

"Priest—"

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Britain," Priest refused. "Once we start talking, you get too invested, and I don't want to cross that line in our relationship anymore."

Britain rolled her eyes, completely against his new set of boundaries. "So, what you're saying is you don't trust me?" she asked, in need of some clarification.

"Britain, you can't handle it," he said to her in a much lighter tone.

"I feel like you're underestimating me, Priest," she huffed in frustration. "All I've been doing is handling it. I keep it together. That's what I do. That's what I've always done." Britain didn't want to come off as argumentative, especially when they were in a beautiful island to celebrate, but she wanted to set some things straight.

Before she could continue to pat his stitched-up wounds with the towel, he grabbed ahold of her wrist lightly. A defeated sigh aired out of her as she sat the towel aside. She rolled her eyes deeply as she felt his hands cup her face. He steered her attention back onto him so she could see how serious he was about the matter.

"Britain, I commend you for having the strength to overcome every bad thing that has ever happened to you, but I can't take advantage of that. I refuse to be the cause of any more trauma in your life. You've seen and heard enough."

Britain pursed her lips to prevent herself from letting out a rebuttal. There was no changing his mind, even if she had a solid argument. He always had her best interests at heart. No matter how much she didn't like his decision, this was no different.

"So, what do we call this new set of boundaries?" Britain muttered defeatedly.

"Consider it church and state," he settled.“I only want to protect you.”

"Whatever you say.”

Priest’s phone sounded off beside them, causing her to reach over to grab it. "J'Ru's calling,” she informed him.