Chapter 68 The Midnight Blue
The first twenty-four hours were a blur of sensory deprivation. I had spent the afternoon practicing the art of being invisible, retreating into the dusty corners of the estate’s library or wandering the stone corridors where the servants didn't go. I was a ghost in a sundress, haunted by the physical sensation of the check against my thigh. Every time I saw Nate in the distance, I veered in the opposite direction. I couldn't look at him without seeing the price tag his mother had hung around my neck.
By midnight, the Sapphire Suite was silent. Eliza was deep in a restless sleep, her breathing rhythmic and heavy. She had spent the evening telling me about her "truce" with Gavin, her voice filled with a tentative, dangerous hope. I had nodded in all the right places, acting like the supportive best friend, while my insides felt like they were being hollowed out with an ice cream scoop.
The clock on the mantel ticked with a deafening, metallic snap. Twenty-four hours left.
The walls felt like they were closing in, sweating with the humidity of the Caribbean night. I needed to move. I needed to wash the taste of Alexandra’s bribe out of my mouth.
I slipped out of the suite, my bare feet silent on the cold marble. The estate was a tomb of shadows, illuminated only by the faint, blue glow of the security lights. I made my way to the infinity pool that overlooked the cliffs. The water was a sheet of black glass, disturbed only by the gentle hum of the filtration system.
I shed my robe, standing in my simple black bikini. The air was cool, but the water was tepid as I dove in. I swam with a desperate, frantic energy. Lap after lap, I pushed my body until my lungs burned and my muscles screamed. I wanted to drown the thoughts. I wanted to outrun the numbers on that check.
As I reached the edge of the pool on my twentieth lap, I came up for air, gasping as I pushed my wet hair back.
"You're going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep that pace up."
I jumped, my heart hammering against my ribs. Nate was sitting on the edge of a lounge chair in the shadows, a silk robe thrown over his shoulders. He looked exhausted, his hair Mussed and his eyes dark with a sleeplessness that mirrored my own.
"Nate," I breathed, clinging to the edge of the pool. "What are you doing out here? Everyone is supposed to be asleep."
"I haven't slept in thirty-six hours, Mila," he said, his voice raspy and low. He stood up and walked toward the edge of the water, kneeling down so he was level with me. "I can’t shut my brain off. And every time I close my eyes, I see you pulling your hand away from me at breakfast. I see you disappearing into the house every time I walk into a room."
I looked away, staring at the way the underwater lights turned the ripples into shimmering turquoise scales. "I just needed some air."
"Don't lie to me," he snapped, though there was more pain than anger in his voice. "My mother talked to you. I saw the way she looked at you during dinner—like a predator watching a clock. What did she say to you, Mila? Did she threaten your family? Did she tell you she’d ruin your reputation?"
The secret burned in my throat. I wanted to tell him. I wanted to scream that his mother thought I could be bought for a handful of zeroes. But the shame of even having the check—of not having torn it up the moment she handed it to me—kept me silent.
"She told me that I’m a novelty to you," I whispered, the water lapping at my chin. "She told me that I’m a summer rebellion, and that once the season turns, you’ll realize I don't fit in your world. She made me realize that my presence here isn't just an inconvenience... it’s a liability for everyone I care about."
Nate’s face contorted, a low growl of pure, unadulterated rage vibrating in his chest. He slammed his fist against the stone coping of the pool, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.
"She has no right," he hissed, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "She thinks she can curate my life like it’s a museum exhibit. She thinks people are assets to be moved around a board."
"She’s your mother, Nate. And she’s a Salvatore," I reminded him, my voice trembling. "She doesn't lose."
"She’s losing me," he countered. He reached down, his fingers gripping my wet shoulder, pulling me slightly higher out of the water.
The movement brought our faces inches apart. I could feel the heat of his breath, the scent of the night air, and the electric charge of his skin against mine. The tension between us was no longer a hum; it was a physical weight, pressing us together in the dark.
His eyes dropped to my lips, and for a second, the world stopped spinning. My heart was thundering so loudly I was sure he could feel it through my skin. I wanted him to pull me out of the water. I wanted him to make me forget the forty-eight-hour deadline and the life-changing sum of money waiting in my room.
His hand slid from my shoulder to the nape of my neck, his damp palm warm against my cold skin. He leaned in, his nose brushing against mine, his gaze intense and hungry. We were balanced on the precipice of a choice that would change everything.
"I’m not letting her win this," he murmured against my lips, his voice a promise and a threat all at once.
He didn't kiss me. He stayed there, suspended in the agony of the near-miss, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip with a feather-light touch that felt like a brand. The air between us was thick with the things we weren't saying, a silent battle between the power of his name and the desperation of my heart.
Finally, he pulled back just an inch, his hand still lingering in my hair. "Go back to bed, Mila. Before I do something that makes it impossible for you to leave."
I climbed out of the pool on the opposite side, not looking back. I could feel his eyes on me as I grabbed my robe and hurried into the shadows of the house. One day left. Twenty-four hours to decide if I was going to be the girl who took the money, or the girl who stayed to watch the world burn.