Page 133 of Lost & Found

“Trust your instincts,” he said. “They’ve carried you this far.”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “I will.”

The line went dead. For a moment, I stayed there, phone hanging loosely in my hand. The ocean rolled in steady waves below. The fire crackled behind the glass. Inside, Pasha lifted his head. He cocked his head to the side, reading me. Everything felt balanced on a knife’s edge.

The attraction to Pasha. The family. Number fourteen.

With a shake of my head, I pushed everything aside. I was going to enjoy dinner with Pasha. Number fourteen wasn’t going anywhere. If Nik’s intel was accurate, then that was just an open door. One I was determined to walk through, no matter the cost. I stepped back inside, more determined than ever to let go for the night.

Pasha was standing near my chair and gestured me over. Always the perfect gentleman, it melted my heart. I took my seat, soaking in everything. The mental checklist of ‘must haves’ in a man got another item added to the list.

He must be a gentleman.

The simple act of holding a chair or door for women, while a lost art for some, it wasn’t for Pasha. Nor any of the men at home, come to think of it. He took his seat opposite me, grabbed the two glasses of champagne, and handed me one.

“To a beautiful night, with an even more beautiful woman.”

Sitting across from her, I was completely wrecked. Did she have any idea how perfect she was? She ordered for me and nailed it. Every choice. Every detail. I’d lived with Hannah for four years. And she never once anticipated what I needed the way Isabella did without effort.

That realization was eye-opening, to say the least. The day had hollowed me out—the intensive high, the crash of Chase and Hannah’s betrayal, the end of our time together. I had walked into this room raw. Empty.

She’d felt it and adjusted to meet me where I was. Met me in my need. There was something beautiful in that. Hannah never chose me. Isabella was leagues different. Everything from the lighting, the music, the food, and the champagne. She’d created something beautiful.

And the dress.

Jesus. It clung in all the right places, moved when she did, and framed her every curve. I had half a thought to tell her she needed ten more like it. But that wasn’t my call. How the hell could I convince her to wear something like that for dinner back home one night?

I wanted the others to see what I saw. A radiant, confident, and sophisticated Isabella.

“You believe in soulmates, Bella?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

“Would it surprise you if I said yes?” she answered, taking a small sip of her champagne.

“A little. Is this a family thing like a Caruso family-held belief?”

“No. It’s straight up Sebastian doctrine. But I’ve watched it play out. Hard to deny something you’ve seen with your own eyes.”

There was something different in her tone. This wasn’t romantic fantasy.

“But I think,” she continued, “in various ways, my views differ from my brother’s.”

I leaned back. “How so?”

“I believe there are many kinds of soulmates. Us girls—soulmates through and through.”

Her fingers traced the stem of her glass. She was willingly bringing up the girls as a group. I sat up straighter. This was progress. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have a hundred and one questions I wanted to ask. But timing was everything, and something about tonight had her wanting to open up.

“I know you guys are worried about what Winter will bring to the family when we find her, but us girls don’t.”

That was a bold statement to make. I’d give her credit—she said it with her whole chest.

“She’ll fit. And when she does, it is going to be a beautiful thing. Mark my words.”

“Without knowing what her life looks like now,” I countered, “a little caution is warranted. We’ve got an amazing balance going on right now.”

“In your eyes,” she whispered. “In mine? In Kinsley? Or Tori’s?” She held my gaze. I wasn’t quite prepared for her next words. “Time stops once a year.”

In real time, melancholy settled over her. In the quiet between us, it slipped in and dimmed the edges of her expression without warning. I almost interrupted her.