[EVE]
I had kept my departure a secret from everyone except Sinclair. I didn't want anyone following me to Germany.
This was my journey—a deeply personal one—and I needed solitude to focus on searching for my real family.
But, of course, there was one person I couldn't deceive.
Cole.
"You're not going alone," he had said the moment he found out. I should have known better than to expect otherwise.
Now, here we were, seated inside his private jet, flying toward Berlin. His presence wasn't exactly unwelcome, but it wasn't what I had planned either.
"I'm the head of your bodyguards," he reasoned, his tone calm yet firm. "What if you get kidnapped again while you're there?"
I had to admit—he had a point. After everything that had happened, the idea of being truly alone in a foreign country carried its own risks.
Still, this wasn't how I envisioned this trip. Instead of a peaceful, reflective holiday, I was stuck spending the duration with Cole.
Great.
"Don't you have Christmas plans with your family?" I asked, attempting to sound casual, though my curiosity was genuine.
He leaned back in his seat, his expression unbothered as usual. "I've spent Christmas with them every year. This time, I wanted to spend it with you."
My breath hitched, and I felt the heat rush to my face. I looked away, wishing I hadn't asked.
"I shouldn't have brought it up," I muttered under my breath, hoping he wouldn't notice the way my hands fidgeted in my lap.
Meanwhile, he was the picture of composure—a prince in his element. His long legs were stretched out comfortably, and he was already engrossed in whatever work he had on his laptop.
I wanted to be annoyed, but a part of me was relieved he was here. As much as I had craved solitude, I couldn't deny the protection his presence brought.
At least I wouldn't be completely alone in a foreign country. Plus, Cole spoke fluent German, which meant he was going to double as my personal translator.
Yet, even as I tried to focus on the practical benefits of his company, I couldn't ignore the underlying tension—the pressure of the unspoken things between us.
And then, there was the dream.
My cheeks burned as the memory resurfaced.
Last night, I had dreamed of him—so vividly it was almost terrifying. In the dream, I was in the bathtub, and his hand . . . his fingers were inside me, pleasuring me — I shook my head, trying to banish the thought.
It felt too real, too tangible. When I woke up, I was trembling, breathless, and undeniably wet. It was mortifying. My body had betrayed me in a way I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge until now.
And now, sitting mere feet away from him, I couldn't shake the fear that the dream was a harbinger of something inevitable.
I didn't trust myself.
The close quarters of the jet didn't help. The way he moved with that effortless grace, the subtle scent of his cologne that lingered in the air, the low hum of his voice whenever he made a quick phone call—it was maddening.
I tried to focus on anything else, scrolling through my phone, pretending to be busy. But the truth loomed over me like a shadow I couldn't escape.
If Cole decided to make a move, I wasn't sure I had the strength to push him away.
Worse still, I wasn't sure I wanted to. My horny hormones were staging a full-blown coup against my common sense.
=== 🤍 ===
[SOPHIE]
Sophie lay in the hospital bed, her leg encased in a heavy plaster cast, immobilized from the ankle up. Her body bore the evidence of her fall—deep purple bruises mottled her skin, her ribs ached with every shallow breath, and a hairline fracture in her side made any movement excruciating.
She stared at the ceiling, a swirl of pain, shame, and regret clouding her thoughts.
Her parents, Sullivan and Sophia, stood at the edge of the hospital room, their faces tight with frustration. They were livid, not just with the accident, but with the ripple effects it had created.
"This is on the Fays," Sophia fumed, her voice low but sharp. "It happened on their yacht. They need to take responsibility for this!"
Sullivan's jaw tightened as he crossed his arms. "And you think they'll just roll over and accept that?" He exhaled heavily, his frustration palpable. "They found the drugs on Sophie, Sophia. That Drug you gave her. Do you know what kind of leverage that gives them?"
The room fell silent.
The very same illicit substance found in Sophie's dress was also discovered in Eve's system—a damning revelation that the Fays had swiftly used to dismantle any potential legal action.
The implication was clear: Sophie had brought the drugs aboard, likely with ill intentions. The whispers in the shadows suggested she might have planned to use it against Cole or another guest, a scheme that had not only failed but backfired spectacularly.
Sullivan clenched his fists, his fury barely contained. "If it weren't for those drugs," he spat, "we could've held them accountable. Damages, reputation repair—we could've forced them to take responsibility! We could have milk them!" His voice cracked, raw with anger. "But now? Now, we're the ones footing the hospital bills, the medication costs—everything!"
Sophia winced, tears pricking her eyes as she looked at their daughter. Sophie's face was pale, her usual vibrancy replaced by exhaustion and pain. But the pity was fleeting. Their financial survival was at stake.
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"And the Fays?" Sullivan continued, pacing the room. "They've cut us off. Completely. Cole was our last hope, Sophia. The connections, the partnership—it's gone. All because of this stupid, reckless mistake!"
Sophia bit her lip, her voice trembling. "So what do we do now?"
"What do we do?" Sullivan snapped, his voice rising. "We fix this mess. We grovel if we have to. Or I'll—" He stopped mid-sentence, his hand instinctively going to his temple as he massaged away the growing headache. "I'll have to secure new investors. Work twice as hard, make promises I'm not even sure I can keep."