Chapter 66 The Price of Departure
The Sapphire Suite felt different now—colder, as if Alexandra’s presence had leached the warmth out of the very walls. I moved through the room with a restless, frantic energy, scrubbing the dried salt from my skin until it was raw. I tried to focus on the mundane: the way the silk pajamas felt against my arms, the hum of the air conditioning, the sound of the waves outside.
But my mind kept drifting back to the dunes. I could still feel the phantom pressure of Nate’s thumb against my jaw and the searing heat of his forehead against mine. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that dark, desperate look in his eyes—a man drowning in his own legacy, reaching for me as if I were the only solid ground left.
"You're pacing," Eliza said from the bed. She had washed the champagne out of her hair, but her eyes were still rimmed with red. "You’ve been back for twenty minutes and you haven't said a single word. What happened out there, Mila?"
I stopped mid-stride, my hands trembling. "Nothing. It was just... Truth or Dare. They were being their usual, miserable selves."
"Liar," Eliza said softly. "You have that look. The one you get when a math problem doesn't add up. What did Nate do?"
I let out a breath I’d been holding since the dunes. "He pulled me away. He took me out into the dark, away from the fire. And he... he didn't just defend me, Liz. He looked at me like I was the only thing that was real. He touched me, and for a second, I forgot that his mother wants us at the bottom of the ocean. I forgot everything."
Eliza sat up, her expression a mix of awe and terror. "Mila... he's a Salvatore. If you fall for him, there’s no safety net. You know that, right?"
"I'm not falling for him," I snapped, more to convince myself than her. "I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed that he has this much power over my head, and I'm annoyed that he can make me forget who I am with just a look."
A sharp, rhythmic knock at the door cut through the tension. It wasn't the heavy, familiar thud of Nate or the casual tap of a servant. It was precise. Authoritative.
I opened the door to find one of the estate’s security staff. "Miss, Mrs. Salvatore would like a word. In the study. Immediately."
Eliza grabbed my arm, her eyes wide. "Don't go."
"I don't have a choice," I whispered.
The walk to the study felt like a march to the gallows. The hallway was lined with portraits of previous Salvatore heirs, all of them watching me with the same cold, judgmental eyes. When I reached the heavy mahogany doors, the guard didn't knock; he simply opened them and gestured for me to enter.
The study was a cathedral of dark wood and leather, smelling of old paper and expensive tobacco. Alexandra sat behind a massive oak desk, the soft glow of a green shaded lamp illuminating her face. She didn't look up as I entered. She was busy signing papers with a fountain pen that moved with lethal precision.
"Sit," she commanded.
I remained standing. "I’d prefer to stay on my feet, Mrs. Salvatore."
She finally looked up, and for a moment, the sheer weight of her disregard made me feel like I was disappearing. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. The scratch of her pen against the paper seemed to echo in the silent room. When she finished, she tore the slip out and slid it across the mahogany surface toward me.
The number on the check was staggering. It had so many zeros that my brain momentarily refused to calculate the sum. It was enough to pay off the loan sharks hunting my parents, put my little sisters through any university in the world, and buy a life of total security. It was the answer to every prayer my mother had ever whispered.
"That sum is for your silence and your absence," Alexandra said, leaning back in her leather chair. "A car is waiting at the service entrance. You will take your friend, you will leave tonight, and you will never contact my son again. You will withdraw from Alverstone and find a university more suited to your... economic realities."
I looked at the check, then back at her. "You think you can just buy me out of his life?"
"I don't 'think,' Mila. I know," she said, her voice a calm, terrifying purr. "Take the money. It is the only time in your life you will ever be worth this much. Don't be foolish enough to think Nathaniel’s 'interest' in you is anything more than a summer rebellion. To him, you are a novelty—a way to annoy me. Once the novelty wears off, you will be nothing but a regrettable footnote in his biography."
I felt the bile rise in my throat. The check sat between us like a poisoned gift.
"I am not unreasonable, Mila," Alexandra continued, leaning forward into the light. "I recognize that a girl of your background might be overwhelmed by a sum of this magnitude. Decisions made in haste often lead to regret, and I want you to be very certain of the life you are walking away from—and the one you are buying. I will give you forty-eight hours."
She tapped her manicured nail against the desk. "Two days. You may stay in this house, eat our food, and look at my son. Use that time to realize that you are looking at a sun you cannot touch without burning to ash. At the end of forty-eight hours, you either take that check and get in the car, or you stay... and I begin the process of dismantling everything you hold dear. I don't make threats, Mila. I make investments. And right now, I am invested in your disappearance."
She picked up her pen again, dismissing me without a second glance. "The clock is ticking. I suggest you spend your night packing, not dreaming."
I walked out of the room, the check clutched in my trembling hand. The hallway felt longer on the way back, the silence heavier. I had six hours to decide if I was the girl who saved a Salvatore, or the girl who was bought by one.