Page 144 of Storm and Sea

“Oh, but I do.”

A heavy hand rested on his shoulder. “Atreus,” Giovanni cautioned.

“Let the mongrel speak; I’m curious what a worthless stray has to say.”

“What the hell did you just call me?” Atreus’s voice dropped, low and sharp with warning.

“I called you exactly what you are: a stray with no home, no name, no pedigree.” Alvise’s smirk was venomous. “I know everything about everyone on this island, and you? You’re a nobody.”

Before the words had even fully landed, Atreus moved. He vaulted over the counter in one fluid motion, his face dangerously close to Alvise’s before he even registered what he’d done. His breath was hot, chest heaving as fury coursed through his veins like the venom of a lionfish.

Alvise didn’t flinch. Not an inch. He stood his ground, his expression one of cold, calculated disdain.

“Try it, filth,” Alvise whispered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. His voice was a taunt, a dare edged with anticipation, like he was aching for Atreus to take the bait. “Give me a reason.”

The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the threat of violence. Atreus’s fists clenched at his sides.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Atreus growled, his words more animal than man.

“And you don’t know who I am,” Alvise shot back, his eyes glinting like the hooked tip of a lance, poised for the perfect moment to strike.

“Atreus,” Giovanni barked a warning. He’d never raised his voice like that, and it deflated Atreus instantly.

Shit.

“A well-trained stray, so it seems.” Alvise tipped his chin up to Atreus’s ear, his breath oddly cold. “I own this island, mongrel. And one day, I’ll rid it of filth like you.”

With shaking restraint, Atreus watched the heir to the Vincenzo empire saunter out of the pescheria without a backward glance.

“Atreus,” Giovanni said for the third time, but there was softness now.

“I know. I messed up.” Atreus shook his head, his fists clenched. He wanted to hit something.

“You assume too much, Atreus. I was going to say how proud I am of you.”

Atreus whipped around. “What?”

“It takes a strong man to resist his anger. At your age, I would have flattened him to the floor. You did well.”

The juxtaposition of anger and the new swell of emotion left Atreus light-headed.

He’s proud of me?

“I’m going to take a walk if that’s okay. I’ll be back to help.”

“That’s a good idea. Go wade in the sea. It always brings peace to my soul.” His mustache twisted in a rare smile.

Minutes later, Atreus kicked off his shoes and dove into the surf. Marvassa embraced him like a mother might a babe, and he changed. He needed to move, to swim, to ease the anger in his chest.

A single phrase played on repeat in his head as he swam until his gills ached with strain.

“A stray with no home, no name, no pedigree—you are a nobody.”

Nyel’s body felt like it was made of overcooked spaghetti as he sagged with relief. Relief that Marina didn’t hate him. That his life on the island wasn’t over. And more importantly—Atreus wouldn’t be forced to leave.

I didn’t ruin his life.

Nyel worked alongside Marina for most of the morning and afternoon. They folded paper flowers and strung them into a makeshift finish line for the kids the following day. He wasn’t as crafty as Marina, and his hands were nowhere as steady as Atreus’s, but he managed.