Ariel did not wait for Noel’s next visit to The Driftwood Café. His conversation with Betty, his established cover story, and the terrifying silence after the shell delivery proved he was committed to his presence on the coast. She needed to seize control of the narrative before he could subtly erode her defenses.
The next morning, after the breakfast rush had cleared, Ariel left Betty in charge of the café. She walked three blocks down to the small, salt-weathered pier that jutted into the bay—a place where the wind was loud, and the privacy was absolute.
She didn't have to wait long. Noel was exactly where she expected him to be, leaning against the railing, gazing out at the choppy water, looking less like a CEO and more like a man stripped bare by regret. He was dressed in his sim
