The villa was quiet except for the soft hush of waves under the floorboards and Liam's even breathing.
Eliot sat on the edge of the little bed, rubbing the boy's back in slow circles until the last twitch of dream settled. Eight o'clock and the kid was out cold, sun drunk and happy.
He was about to switch off the lamp when his phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was an unknown Manila number.
He frowned, stepped out onto the narrow deck, and answered, "Eliot".
The voice which answered hit him like a fist to the sternum. It was his ex-wife, Maria.
Five years of silence and she still sounded exactly the same. He closed the sliding door so Liam wouldn't hear. "What do you want?",he asks, voice neutral.
A pause, followed by the practiced sweetness. "Can't a mother check on her son?",sh
