Chapter 154: Paige

Chapter 154: Paige
The cab rolls forward, its tires humming softly against the cobblestone streets, and I press my forehead against the cool window, my breath fogging up the glass.

Lisbon is beautiful.

I had spent years reading about this city, dreaming of one day stepping foot here, but no picture, no article, no book could have prepared me for what it actually feels like.

The streets are narrow and winding, leading into charming little alleyways that disappear between rows of colorful buildings. Every wall, every corner, every hand-painted tile tells a story, the azulejos glistening under the soft streetlights. Some buildings are pastel-colored, yellows, blues, pinks, like something out of a painting. Others are older, weathered by time, but somehow still elegant, their wrought-iron balconies decorated with potted plants and drying laundry.

We pass a small courtyard where a massive tree spreads its branches over a few benches. A group of older men sit there, talking and laughing in hushed voices, sipping from tiny cups of coffee. A woman leans out of a second-story window, hanging white sheets on a laundry line, her movements slow, relaxed—like life here moves at a different pace.

Further down, a little shop glows warmly, the light spilling out onto the street. Through the window, I catch a glimpse of a bakery, the glass counter filled with pastries, golden and crisp. My stomach growls at the sight of them.

I tear my eyes away and glance at Jaxon. He’s watching me, smirking slightly, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

"You like it?" he asks.

I swallow, my heart feeling too full, too overwhelmed.

"I love it," I whisper.

And I do.

From the moment the cab turns off the main road and onto a smaller, winding dirt path, something inside me shifts. I don’t know where we are going, I don’t know what to expect, but the way Jaxon is sitting beside me—calm, confident, completely at ease—it tells me one thing. This isn’t just a place we’re staying for a night.

This is something more.

The road is lined with towering trees, their green leaves rustling softly in the coastal breeze. The golden glow of the late afternoon sun filters through the branches, casting long shadows across the uneven path. It's quiet out here. Peaceful. Nothing like the constant noise and tension of Alderstone. I let my fingers ghost over the cool glass of the window as I take it all in.

The scent in the air changes first. The crisp, salty breeze of the ocean mingles with the earthier scent of pine trees and sun-warmed grass. Then, through the gaps in the foliage, I catch glimpses of it. A house.

It’s nothing like the cold, modern penthouses or luxurious estates I’ve been trapped in before. It’s not polished, not perfect, but it’s breathtaking in its own way. Nestled among the trees, a white-walled house with a terracotta roof stands in the distance. Vines crawl up its sides, climbing toward the second floor, where blue shutters stand open against the warm-toned walls. The building looks like it’s been here forever, belonging to the landscape rather than interrupting it.

And just beyond the house?

The ocean.

My heart stutters. The water is a deep shade of blue, waves rolling lazily onto a secluded shore just below the property. A small stone path leads down to the sand, and my eyes follow the curve of the coastline, where jagged cliffs meet the waves in the distance. The whole place looks like something out of a dream.

The cab slows as we pull up in front of the house, tires crunching over gravel. I sit frozen, gripping the duffel bag in my lap as Jaxon steps out first. He moves around to my side and opens the door, holding his hand out for me. I take it without thinking, my fingers curling around his as he helps me to my feet.

For a long moment, I just stare.

The white walls are softened by patches of creeping vines, some flowering with small bursts of purple and pink. A few potted plants sit outside the front door, along with a wooden chair that looks well-worn, like someone used to sit there every evening, watching the sun dip below the horizon. There’s a small balcony on the second floor, one I already know has the perfect view of the water.

My throat tightens.

It’s beautiful. And it’s ours.

Jaxon watches me with quiet amusement, the corner of his mouth tugging up slightly as he finally breaks the silence.

"Welcome to your new home, princess."

I’m speechless.

I can’t speak. I can’t think.

I step out of the cab, my feet meeting the uneven gravel of the driveway, and my legs feel like they might give out. The driver mumbles something in Portuguese as Jaxon hands him the cash, but I barely process it. On instinct, I manage a quiet, "Obrigada," before my gaze snaps back to our home.

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it?

Not a safe house. Not a temporary hideout. Not another unfamiliar place to pass through while looking over our shoulders.

A home.

I turn to Jaxon, my pulse roaring in my ears.

"How—?" My voice catches, my throat dry. "When—?"

Jaxon chuckles, running a hand through his already messy dark hair, and shrugs like this isn’t the most insane, impossible, life-altering thing that’s ever happened to me. "It’s not perfect," he says, gaze flickering toward the house, then back to me. "But we’ll make it our own." He pauses, eyes scanning my face, and for the first time since I’ve met him, he looks…nervous. "I hope you like it."

Like it?

Like it?

I launch myself at him.

He stumbles back with a quiet "Shit," but catches me effortlessly, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist as I bury my face into his neck. "I love it," I whisper against his skin, my fingers fisting the back of his shirt. "I love it so much, Jaxon."

His chest rises and falls beneath my hands as he exhales, like he was holding his breath. He tightens his grip on me, pressing a kiss to the side of my head before setting me back on my feet. His hands linger on my waist, and when I tilt my chin up to look at him, his storm-gray eyes are soft in a way that makes my stomach twist.

And then—something shifts.

His expression turns serious.

"I have to tell you something," he says.

I blink, taken off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. "Now?" I joke, narrowing my eyes. "Is this where you tell me you had to kill ten people to get this house?"

A low laugh rumbles through his chest, but his grip on me tightens ever so slightly. "No," he murmurs. "Now’s the time for me to tell you…"

He pauses, just for a second, just long enough for my heart to stop beating entirely.

"I love you."

The world around me tilts.

I feel like I’ve been thrown off a cliff, falling endlessly, weightless, unable to grasp onto anything because my brain cannot process what I just heard.

I stutter. "You—you do?"

Jaxon nods.

Simple. Certain. No hesitation.

And just like that, I’m gone.

"Jaxon," I whisper, "I love you too."