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Her words are cryptic, and while I don’t understand what kind of commitment can force someone to leave a place they clearly love, I can understand the sentiment.

I’m on this cruise ship because of a commitment I made too.

“I’m sure this move wasn’t a decision you’ve made lightly. The fact you’re here, facing something you’re afraid of, tells me what type of person you are.”

Her watery eyes meet my gaze.

“You’re someone brave.” My nose prickles, my heart clenching as I think about my journey on this trip. “You’re someone who’ll live life no matter what it throws at you. And despite the grief, the fears…you’ll survive.”

I’ll survive.

Tears slide down her cheeks, and she quickly brushes them away. “Th-Thank you.” She squeezes my hand before letting go. “Geez, I feel much better already. Just saying it out loud.”

“You can always stop by my office if you ever want to chat. It helps to have someone to talk—”

“Surprise!” A soft scent of roses reaches my nose before a curvy brunette dressed in a chic tan sweater dress, hair tied in a ponytail, steps into view.

“Lana? Aren’t you arriving tonight?”

A dark scowl crosses her face. “I was supposed to, but the Shadow King said he was coming out here earlier. Then he took it upon himself to rearrange my flight plans and drag me onto the jet with him. The overbearing, mercurial bast—”

My eyes widen. I’ve never seen the graceful Lana get so worked up before. “Shadow King? Who is Shadow King?”

“You know, Eli—” She stops herself, finally noticing the wide-eyed Bree who’s staring at us with rapt interest. “Oh. Sorry. You guys are in the middle of breakfast. I’m clearly interrupting. I’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours because instead of sleeping last night, I was on the damn jet, and I can’t sleep when flying. And—”

Lana blows out a breath and rearranges her lips into a bright smile.

“I’m Lana Anderson.” She extends her hand to Bree. “You’re Bree, Rex’s…friend. I’m the head of PR at Fleur, so I know everything there is to know about anything Anderson-related that might show up in magazines and newspapers.”

“Oh. Sorry if I’ve created more work for you.” Bree scrunches her nose.

“You’ve been an angel, compared to his past…ahem…exploits.” She shakes her head. “Ugh. I’m tired and look like crap.”

Lana yawns and I snicker. Only she can say she looks like crap and still moonlight as a cover model this very instant.

“I say we all have a girls’ day and try out the saltwater float garden. Oh! Or the quartz-crystal cleansing and infrared therapy. That’s just in at the spa on deck eight.” She grins. “I need some R and R before I hunt down my problematic brother. You gals in?”

“Maybe I’ll join you tonight. I’m sightseeing today. Dubrovnik.” I wave my phone, my gut pinching when I remember I don’t have my Leica anymore. “Work hard, play hard, as someone says. Can’t meet a hot man without going out.” I give a pointed look at Lana.

She huffs out a dry laugh. “Fine.” Then she turns to Bree. “What about you?”

“Uh…I guess so? I’m staying in.” Bree’s eyes widen, clearly bewildered and pleased at the same time.I know, girl, I know.Lana Anderson is a force of nature.

“Wonderful. I can ask you about my brother and why he went all serial killer apeshit in Pyrgos, because I tell you, that’snotRex. Bullets come flying, he’d probably duck for cover. You must be the reason he’s a hero now. A good influence.”

Bree’s face pinkens and for a moment, the doubts I have about her relationship with Rex come roaring back. She said he’s not her type. Which begs me to ask, why does she seem so close to him? Why does he hold her like he would a lover?

Why do I have more questions and fewer answers now than I had before I sat down this morning?

Chapter Twenty-Two

A chilly breeze chafesmy skin and I quicken my pace as I hike toward the western sea-facing walls of Fort Lovrijenac, the distant cry of seagulls keeping me company.

I’m not supposed to be here at a little past seven a.m. because the fort isn’t open to the public yet. But earlier, when I was walking over from the Old Town entrance, I saw a guard collapsed in the middle of the road in what appeared to be a seizure. Visions of his body being trampled by cars propelled me forward.

I had to save him—save people in trouble. My calling.

Sprouting the worst Croatian ever—after all, the language glossary in guidebooks weren’t meant for these situations—I declared my doctor status to bystanders, whipped into action, moved him carefully away from oncoming traffic, and stayed with him until his colleagues arrived with a medical team.