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God, I don’t know what I’m doing, or how to make this stop. This game feels more dangerous with every second that passes, and I’m losing sight of how to protect myself.

I remove my phone from my pocket and type out a quick question, tapping Alessio on the shoulder to show him.

Is it okay if I relax down below?

Alessio turns, nodding stiffly. “If you wish.”

I smile at Nino, and he smiles back, and I think this is the right thing to do. Alessio can spend some time with him, and I can get some much-needed distance.

I head for the small door and ease down the narrow stairs to find a cozy salon area. The space is well outfitted with a kitchenette and lounge. Further back, it opens to a stateroom, with a bed and additional loungers. I unzip my jacket and drape it over the lounge before I start my exploration. In my head, I’m reminding myself to look for anything useful, but as my fingers trail over the furniture, my eyes keep drifting back to the bed.

I can’t help wondering who else he’s brought on this boat. It’s a disturbing thought to consider that he’s used that space before. That he’s had the warmth of a woman next to him right there. I don’t want to imagine it, but my consciousness supplies the details regardless. She would be beautiful, of course, and much taller than me. She’s probably someone completely at ease in her skin. She wouldn’t have a second thought about climbing atop him naked and displaying her body for his pleasure.

A sickening feeling twists my gut at the prospect, and I try to erase it from my mind. I can’t think about Alessio’s conquests or the bitter resentment I feel over them when I’m not entitled to it. Forcing it from my mind, I collapse into one of the loungers and pull a book from the side pocket. When I see the title, I can’t help but wonder at the irony. The Count of Monte Cristo. It’s been a long time since I read it, but I can remember the revenge theme clearly. If I needed a sign that I’m losing sight of my goal, this is it.

I thumb through the book I’ve read before, landing on a random chapter as my eyes start to skim over the words. One sentence becomes two, and soon, I’m completely engrossed all over again. I don’t know how long has passed before the sound of Alessio’s voice startles me.

“Natalia?”

I blink up at him. He’s lingering on the stairs as he studies me with concern. Nino is behind him, watching me with rosy cheeks from the wind.

“I called out for you several times,” Alessio says.

I shake my head apologetically, closing the book and setting it on the table. His eyes move over it in question before returning to my face.

“It’s time for lunch,” he tells me.

My stomach rumbles in response, and I rise to my feet, resolved to rejoin them. Alessio watches me as I slip my jacket back on and then holds his hand out again to help me up the stairs. It isn’t necessary, but I take it anyway, quietly choking down my tangled emotions when he squeezes my fingers in his.

Upstairs, Alessio leads us toward the stern, where there’s a small dining nook and a grill I didn’t notice before. It appears he’s already started preparations, with a cooler of supplies Angelina must have prepared. I didn’t even realize we’d stopped moving, but when I take in the scenery around us, I see why he chose this spot. It’s quiet and peaceful.

Can I help? I write.

“I think I can manage,” he answers. “You can keep Nino entertained.”

I nod and take a seat with Nino at the table.

Are you having fun? I ask.

He nods, a dimple appearing on his left cheek. “I wish we could do this every day.”

I try to squash down another surge of guilt as he peeks up at Alessio with clear affection in his eyes. Nino knows Alessio isn’t his father, and I was unsure of their dynamic after observing conflicting patterns. On some level, Alessio obviously cares for him, and I can see now that affection is returned.

How long have you been with Alessio? I sign the question using a combination of the words he knows while spelling the rest slowly.

Nino glances at Alessio, and I can tell he’s uncertain about answering while he’s near him, but he responds by shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

Since you were a baby?

His brows pinch together, and he nods. “I think so.”

I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, so I ask him if he wants to play a game or draw. I brought a few things for him just in case, and he seems to prefer quiet activities.

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