Chapter 42

Cecilia

Once we were back in our room, the door closed behind us, I finally let out the breath I'd been holding.

Arthur sat down on the edge of the bed, watching me carefully. "Ceci," he said quietly. "Come here."

I shook my head, pacing back and forth. "I can't stop thinking about Alice," I said, my voice tight. "She was completely out of it, Arthur. And Max—the way he looked at her—"

Arthur's jaw tightened. "I know."

"Do you?" I stopped pacing and turned to face him. "Because I feel like we just let him carry her off like—like she's some kind of prize he won."

Arthur stood up, crossing the room to me. "Ceci, listen to me," he said, his voice low and serious. "I don't like it either. But we can't break down his door in the middle of the night. Not without proof. Not without—"

"Without what?" I said, my voice rising. "He can't take advantage of Alice being drunk to try something inappropriate."

"No," he said. "That's not what I'm saying. I know Max. He wouldn't do that. Cecilia, trust me. Tomorrow morning, we'll check on her. If something's wrong, we'll handle it. I promise you."

I wanted to argue, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were clenched at his sides. He was just as pissed as I was—he was just better at hiding it.

"Okay," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Tomorrow."

He pulled me into his arms, and I let myself lean into him, trying to push away the sick feeling in my stomach.

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Max's grin, the way he'd looked at Alice like she was something he owned. By the time the sun came up, I was already awake, staring at the ceiling.

Arthur stirred beside me, his arm tightening around my waist. "You didn't sleep," he said quietly.

"Neither did you," I said.

He didn't deny it. Just pressed a kiss to my shoulder and sat up. "Come on," he said. "Let's go check on her."

We got dressed quickly and stepped out of our room. The cabin was quiet, the early morning light filtering through the windows. Carter and Sophia were still asleep on the floor, tangled up in each other's arms. Someone—probably one of the flight attendants—had draped a blanket over them.

Arthur glanced at them, then looked at me. "You want to wake them?"

I shook my head. "Let them sleep. We'll handle this."

We walked toward the back of the cabin, where Max's room was. My heart was pounding, my hands clenched into fists. Arthur knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping sharply against the wood.

"Max," he called. "Open up."

There was a long pause. Then the door cracked open, and Max appeared, looking annoyingly well-rested. His hair was damp, like he'd just showered, and he was wearing a fresh shirt.

"Morning," he said, his tone casual. "What's up?"

"Where's Alice?" I said, my voice sharp.

Max raised an eyebrow. "Still sleeping. Why?"

"I want to see her," I said.

Max's grin widened slightly. "She's fine, Cecilia. Just tired."

"I didn't ask if she was fine," I said, stepping forward. "I said I want to see her."

Arthur put a hand on my shoulder, but he didn't pull me back. "Let her in, Max," he said quietly.

Max's grin faltered, and for a moment, I saw something flicker in his eyes—annoyance, maybe, or irritation. But then he shrugged and stepped aside. "Sure. Whatever."

I pushed past him into the room. Alice was curled up on the bed, still wearing the pale sundress from last night. Her face was pale, her hair tangled, and she looked so small and fragile that my chest tightened.

"Alice," I said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Hey. You okay?"

She fell silent for a moment, then suddenly blushed.

"I'm fine," she said quietly.

"Are you sure?" I said, searching her face. "Did he—did anything happen?"

Alice glanced past me at Max, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Then she looked back at me and shook her head. "No," she said. "Nothing happened. I just... I drank too much. That's all."

I wanted to believe her. But the way she didn't dare to look me in the eye, and her face turned even redder.

"Okay," I said finally. "Come on. Let's get you some breakfast."

Alice nodded and stood up, following me out of the room. Max didn't say anything, just watched us go with that same infuriating smirk on his face.

By the time we got back to the main cabin, Carter and Sophia were awake. Sophia had changed into a soft pink sundress, and Carter was pouring coffee, looking considerably more put-together than he had last night.

"Morning," Carter said, smiling at us. "Sleep okay?"

"Fine," I said, guiding Alice to a seat. Arthur sat down beside me, his hand finding mine under the table.

One of the flight attendants appeared with a tray of breakfast—croissants, fruit, scrambled eggs. I grabbed a plate and started piling food onto it, then set it in front of Alice.

"Eat," I said gently.

Alice picked up a fork, her movements slow and mechanical. I watched her carefully, my chest tight with worry.

Max emerged from the back a few minutes later, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting down across from us. "So," he said brightly. "What's the plan for today?"

Carter glanced at his phone. "Well, we should be landing soon. Then we'll check into the villa, hit the spa, maybe do some snorkeling. Tonight, there's a beach bonfire and dinner setup."

"Sounds great," Max said.

I didn't say anything. Just kept my eyes on Alice, I tried to see if there was anything off about her, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Max even cut her some bread, and she ate it normally too.

Perhaps nothing really happened last night after all?