Chapter 43

Cecilia

The villa was beautiful. White stone walls, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an endless stretch of turquoise water.

Arthur came up behind me, his hand finding the small of my back. "Not bad," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Not bad?" I turned to look at him. "Arthur, this place is perfect."

Carter appeared in the doorway, grinning. "Alright, room assignments. Arthur and Cecilia, you're in the master suite—east wing, ocean view, private balcony, the works." He shot Arthur a knowing look.

Arthur's hand tightened on my waist. "Appreciated."

"Sophia and I are taking the west wing," Carter continued. "And Max—" He paused, his expression flickering with something I couldn't quite read. "Max and Alice, you're in the guest suite. North side."

"Great," Max said, his smile widening. "Come on, Alice. Let's go check it out."

Max led Alice away, and god, I was so fucking over him. Alice glanced back at me and shot me this look—like she was trying to tell me not to worry.

Arthur's hand slid from my waist to my hip, pulling me closer. "Later," he murmured in my ear. "We'll figure it out later."

I nodded.

I could hear the waves from our room, steady and rhythmic, and under different circumstances, it might have been romantic.

Instead, all I could think about was Alice, trapped in a room with Max.

Arthur closed the door behind us and leaned against it, watching me. "You're spiraling."

"I'm not spiraling," I said, but my voice came out too sharp, too defensive.

He raised an eyebrow.

I sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, dropping my head into my hands. "Okay, fine. I'm not spiraling. I just—I don't get it."

Arthur looked at me with concern.

"I can tell Alice has feelings for him. But Max never thinks about what she wants. He ignores her completely, announces they're together, and then lets everyone attack an innocent girl!"

Arthur crossed the room and knelt in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. "I saw," he said quietly. "And I don't like it any more than you do. But Ceci, we can't just—"

"Can't what?" I looked up at him, feeling the frustration bubbling up in my chest. "Can't help her? Can't do anything?"

"That's not what I'm saying." His voice was steady, patient, but I could see the tension in his jaw. "I'm saying we need to be smart about this. If we go charging in there right now, Max is going to shut us out completely. And then we'll have no way to help her at all."

I hated that he was right. Hated it so much I wanted to scream.

Instead, I leaned forward and pressed my forehead against his. "I just—I can't stop thinking about her. About what he might be doing to her right now."

Arthur's hands slid up to cup my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheekbones. "I know," he said softly. "But we're going to figure this out. Together. I promise."

I closed my eyes and let myself lean into him, drawing strength from the solid warmth of his presence. For a moment, we just stayed like that, breathing in sync, and I felt some of the tension start to ease.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Arthur pulled back with a sigh and stood up, crossing to the door and pulling it open. Carter stood on the other side, looking sheepish.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "But Sophia wants to go to the spa, and I figured—" He glanced past Arthur to me. "Maybe Cecilia and Alice would want to come too? Girls' afternoon?"

I was on my feet before he'd even finished the sentence. "Yes. Absolutely. Let me just—" I grabbed my phone and a light cardigan. "Where's Alice?"

Carter's expression flickered with something—concern, maybe, or unease. "Still with Max, I think. But I can go get her—"

"I'll do it," I said, already heading for the door.

Arthur caught my arm. "Ceci—"

"I'll be nice," I said, though we both knew that was a lie.

He sighed but let me go, and I hurried down the hallway toward the north wing.

The door to Max and Alice's room was closed. I knocked, harder than necessary, and waited.

Nothing.

I knocked again. "Alice? It's me."

Still nothing.

My heart started to race. I tried the handle—locked—and felt panic rising in my chest. "Alice!"

The door opened so suddenly I almost stumbled. Max stood there, shirtless, his hair damp, looking like I'd just interrupted something. Behind him, I could see Alice sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and glared at Max.

"Can I help you?" Max asked, his tone dripping with fake politeness.

"Carter's organizing a spa thing," I said, forcing my voice to stay level. "Sophia, me, Alice. Girls' afternoon."

Max's eyes narrowed slightly. "Alice is tired. She needs to rest."

"I'm fine," Alice said quietly from behind him.

Max turned to look at her. "You're exhausted," he said, his voice soft but firm. "You should stay here. Relax."

"I want to go," Alice said.

Max's jaw tightened. For a long moment, he just stared at her, and I could see the battle playing out behind his eyes. Finally, he turned back to me with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Fine," he said. "But she needs to be back by dinner. And Cecilia?" His gaze locked onto mine, cold and sharp. "Take care of her. She's important to me."

The unspoken threat hung in the air between us.

"Of course," I said, matching his fake smile with one of my own. "Come on, Alice."

Alice walked over to me. Max caught her wrist as she passed, pulling her back for a moment. He leaned down and kissed her—hard, possessive, claiming—and I had to look away.

When he finally let her go, Alice practically bolted out the door, her face flushed and her eyes bright with unshed tears.

I didn't say anything. Just took her hand and led her back down the hallway.