Page 46 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

There were rules Gianni and I had set back in 1993, and one of them was not touching his sister. It suited me just fine. I didn’t want to touch her, not even with a ten-foot pole. But watching her crawl up those stairs…

“Fuck,” a word just slipped out.

I stopped, turned around, and took a few steps back down. She stared at me, confusion draining the color from her face, but I didn’t say a word. I stopped in front of her, and before she could even blink, I grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her over my shoulder.

“Do you want to lose an arm?” she hissed, pounding her fists against my back. “Put me down.”

“Don’t move,” I muttered. “You’ll wake everyone up.”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” Her voice rose to its normal volume. “I’m not joking, Oliver. If you don’t put me down, I’ll chop you in half and feed you to the sharks.”

I ignored her and kept climbing until we reached the upper deck. I pushed open the door and took another flight of stairs to the bridge cabin.

The key was already in the lock. I turned it carefully and eased the door open while she continued hammering my back. My skin had gone numb beneath the steady blows of her fists, but I kept quiet. The last thing I wanted was anyone knowing we were up here.

As the door clicked shut behind us, I lowered her onto the floor.

Her feet landed on the blue carpet, its center stitched with a rose of the winds, the north point aimed toward the wide windows overlooking the bow. A bank of computers lined the long console beneath them, their screens casting a pale glow across the room.

She parted her lips to say something, but I ignored her and walked straight to the desk. I dropped into the chair, wrapped my hand around the mouse and clicked the screen awake. Then, I pulled up the surveillance recordings, and rewound the footage to the last thirty minutes to find the man in the hood.

She stepped closer, close enough for me to feel her breath brush the back of my ear.

“A normal person would apologize for acting like an animal.”

I turned my head. Our faces were so close I could feel her breath against my lips.

“Do I look like a normal person?” I asked, my jaw tightening as my eyes locked with hers.

Her gaze drifted back to the screen.

“Does this look weird to you?”

I rewound the footage a few minutes.

A hooded man snatched a piece of paper from Isabella’s hand and shoved her toward the plunge pool. But she never actually fell. She jumped in herself.

Then the hooded man turned.

I recognized him instantly.

“That’s Dante,” I said. “He was supposed to be missing.”

A few seconds later, after Dante walked away from the plunge pool, another man stepped in and pulled the pool cover shut.

I knew this face as well. This was Luca. His brother.

They were working together, and they were both on my yacht.

I exited the recording and returned to the live surveillance feed. Rising from the chair, I towered over Gabriella, searching her startled face.

“What did he take?”

She swallowed. “I don’t know.”

I scoffed. “You’re such a good liar, Gabriella.”

I took a step forward.