Page 102 of Gabriel

Last night… with her… it was like a crack with a hope for our future.

She was unlike anyone I’d ever met.

Unfortunately, she came with the lunatic Satan twins, but I could handle them. I just needed to get to Anya, tuck her away somewhere safe, and then I’d be all in. This time there’d be no handling Amara with kid gloves. I’d pursue her, charm her, and seduce her into submission. Until she was mine alone.

I shifted, glancing over at her.

She’d been dozing on and off, and I couldn’t help but watch the way her chest rose and fell, so fragile and so fierce all at once.

I wanted to be the man who kept her safe, but I also knew she could hold her own.

The cuffs from last night lay on the bedside table, cold reminders of our reality.

But Amara’s hand in mine all night was my reward.

It felt more than just a touch; it was a lifeline. A promise that maybe, just maybe, we could face the storm together.

I wasn’t going to let her slip away. Not this time.

Keeping my hand on hers, I felt the steady pulse beneath her skin. It was so alive, so real, with a fragile root of trust.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at me, an intimate smile that stole my heart.

“Amara,” I began, “I don’t expect you to flip the switch and trust me completely, but believe me when I say that I’m on your side.”

Her eyes met mine and didn’t waver. Instead, she reached up, fingers tracing the line of my jaw.

“Thank you.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. It wasn’t exactly the response I expected, but it was a start.

I moved closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel her breath mingle with mine.

“I wasn’t going for your gratitude,” I whispered.

“I know, and I trust you, but I also trust my siblings. Just please be patient until we get to the bottom of this and then… Well, I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

Her words were a balm I didn’t know I needed.

“No, I’m not,preciosa.”

I leaned in, pressing my forehead against hers, closing my eyes and letting the quiet between us speak louder than any fear or doubt.

When dawn came, sunlight filtered through the porthole, splashing over the sheets tangled around our bodies.

Amara stirred first, stretching with slow, easy grace. Her skin brushed against mine in a quiet, deliberate drag that made my pulse catch.

She trailed her fingers over my chest—lightly, almost absentmindedly. I let the silence hang for a minute longer before I broke it.

“I have to tell you something.”

Her fingers stilled, but she didn’t pull away. “Okay.”

“I picked the lock to my cuffs,” I said, turning my head to lock eyes with her. “I got out and scouted the yacht a few times.”

She didn’t flinch, but her eyes flicked with something sharp and calculating.

“I didn’t leave, obviously,” I supplied. “But I did learn something.”