Page 145 of Mafia Obsession

“I’ll take lunch to go,” I say. “I need to get on the water.”

“I think the sea will do you some good.” She pats my arms and is already gathering bread, olives, roasted fish, and fruit into glass containers.

Down at the marina, the dockhands have the boat ropes off the cleats and are waiting for my departure. Engine humming, I battle rare sea waves as I steer toward the marker indicating the repaired shelf. The marine team my foundation hired worked all month, reinforcing the rock bed from further damage.

I drop anchor safely and dive in, the cold shock of water muting my heartache. All I hear is the blood rushing through my ears. For a moment, the world above the surface falls away.

I descend along the line, the lead rope from the marker sliding through my gloved hand as the hull of the boat rocks against the shifting blue. Sunlight fractures through the water in pale ribbons and helps guide me to the white stone shelf below.

The cold steadies me. It forces my mind to focus. Reminds me, I’m down here with no wetsuit and no gear.

I get to the shelf and inspect the reinforced sections where the divers completed their repairs. My fingers follow the welded seams, testing the strength of the plates, pressing against the runoff lines to ensure they sit firmly in their brackets.

Everything holds. And it’s exactly what the reports promised. Money well spent.

I swim deeper to see the base of the shelf, checking the final section. The water goes ice cold, and the current here moves more sharply, tugging at my shoulders. I brace a hand against the rock as I examine the last of the supports.

Satisfied, I turn back toward the line. That’s when the current does more than shift.

It happens so quickly I barely register it. The anchor rope snaps taut above me as the boat swings with the wind. The sudden drag against my legs has me jerking away to avoid severe rope burn.

The line whips sideways, and before I can move, the slack loops around my ankle and tightens.

The next pull yanks me downward.

Chapter 60

Lourdes

Idread today because I have to break the news to Sandrine that Ares and I broke up,andfor the good of everyone, I have made the decision to transfer her to the Arizona facility. Like I had planned all along.

I don’t want Ares’s money, and I don’t want his security. Even though, thanks to him, I have the funds I need for her care.

She takes the news calmly. And for a split second, I consider mentioning Kirill. Just to see if it jars something.

But I don’t. I do, however, remind her about Elodie in Scottsdale. We can start a whole life. For a short while, it will once again put her transition therapy on hold. It’s a necessary move formysurvival.

“But what about Ares?” she asks me, sitting on the bed in her private room.

My heart breaks because I know Sandrine likes him. Trusts him, and now I have to shatter that trust. “Ares left me a month ago.”

“What?” She exhales quickly. “Where did he go?”

“To a tower he built.” I press one hand to my middle, grounding myself. “What we had…it wasn’t the same thing to him as it was to me.”

Sandrine’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Lourdes.”

“There’s something else, Jess.” We continue to use the alias, since she’s not gotten stable enough to know the truth.

It’s not just her old name we have to hide, it’s now her old life with Kirill Volkov.

“I’m pregnant.”

Shocked, Sandrine says, “Ares left you anyway?”

“No.” I keep my voice steady, so I don’t agitate her by showing how upset I am. “I didn’t tell him. I don’t think he wants children.”

Sandrine frowns. “How can you be so sure that he doesn’t want his own baby?”