A Will Written In Blood

NO SAFE SIDE

CHAPTER 4

NO SAFE SIDE

By morning, the two of them were on a private flight headed away from Barcelona. Mara sat across from Valerio, studying him when she thought he wasn't looking. He seemed different without a room full of people around him. Less like a king. More like a man who had forgotten how to rest. He noticed her gaze. “Something on my face?” “No.” “Then stop staring.” “You're the one who keeps looking at me.” His mouth curved slightly. “Maybe I have a reason.”

Mara looked out the window before he could see the reaction his words caused. She hated that he could make a simple sentence feel like a challenge. She hated even more that part of her wanted to challenge him back. She had spent years treating attraction as a weakness other people could exploit. She had no intention of letting Valerio Santoro become an exception.

They arrived at a private island just before sunset. A villa stood above the water, surrounded by stone terraces and dark green hills. It was beautiful, secluded and impossible to leave without planning. Mara glanced at Valerio. “You call this safe?” “Safer.” “That's not reassuring.” “It wasn't meant to be.”

Inside the villa, Valerio gave her a key. “Your room.” Mara looked at it. “Separate?” “Obviously.” Something about the answer irritated her. She couldn't explain why. She turned away before he could read her expression. Valerio noticed anyway.

That night, she found him in the study. Documents covered the desk. “You should be sleeping,” he said. “So should you.” “I don't sleep much.” “Trauma?” His expression changed. Mara immediately regretted asking. After a long pause, he answered, “Yes.”

He told her about the night his family died. He didn't describe it in detail. He didn't need to. The exhaustion in his voice said enough. Mara listened quietly. When he finished, she said, “My father used to say memories aren't evidence.” Valerio looked at her. “Your father was right.” “You knew him.” “Yes.” “Then tell me what he was like.”

Valerio looked toward the window. “He believed loyalty meant something.” Mara swallowed. “Was he loyal to you?” His gaze returned to hers. “He was loyal to my father.” “And you?” Valerio held her eyes. “I don't know yet.”

The room went quiet. Mara realized how close they were standing. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. She felt the shift between them and hated how much she noticed it. Valerio stepped back first. “You should go to bed.” Mara forced a small smile. “You first.”

She turned toward the door. “Mara.” She stopped. “Yes?” “If you ever decide to betray me, don't hesitate.” She turned back. “Why?” His expression became unreadable. “Because if I believe you did it willingly, I won't be able to forgive you.”

Mara left without answering. In the hallway, she pressed her palm briefly against her chest and frowned at herself. This was a man she had been hired to kill. She had no business noticing his eyes, his voice or the way his presence made every room feel smaller.

Back in the study, a tiny red light blinked from a hidden camera. Someone had been watching them since they arrived. A message appeared on a phone somewhere else on the island: **They're together.** Another followed: **Good. Let them find the truth.**

The following morning, Mara found Valerio on the terrace. He handed her a cup of coffee without asking. “You remembered how I take it.” “You complain loudly enough when it isn't right.” She smiled despite herself. For a few seconds, they stood without talking. The sea moved below them, and the silence felt strangely comfortable.

Then Valerio's phone rang. The softness disappeared from his face. Someone had found a connection between the old Voss accounts and a current Santoro operation. Their quiet morning ended instantly. Mara realized that whatever was growing between them would have to survive a war neither of them understood yet.

The private island was quieter than Mara expected. There were no crowds, no constant movement, no strangers watching from every corner. For someone trained to notice danger, the quiet should have been comforting. Instead, it made her more aware of Valerio. At breakfast, she noticed the way he removed his rings before handling the documents. At lunch, she noticed that he always sat where he could see the doors. At night, she noticed that he rarely slept. She told herself these were observations, nothing more.

Valerio noticed her habits too. She drank coffee slowly when she was thinking. She touched the ring whenever she was anxious. She looked at exits before she looked at people. She had a habit of pretending she wasn't tired. He recognized all of it because he had once lived the same way. The realization made him protective, and that was a feeling he did not welcome.