Chapter 42

• Roxanne's POV...
• The gentle rocking of the water against the hull was the only sound that pierced the serene quiet of the night, save for the soft hum of the private yacht cutting through the dark waves. I stood at the edge of the polished teak deck, leaning against the railing with my eyes closed as the cool ocean breeze tangled through my hair. Down below, the city lights of the mainland had long since faded into a distant, twinkling cluster of stars, leaving us utterly isolated in the middle of the vast, ink-black sea.
• When Joaquin had told me to pack a bag for a "quick getaway" to escape the suffocating air of the command center for just one evening, I hadn't expected this. He hadn't just rented a yacht—he had chartered an entire, secluded private island just for the two of us. Just for one night, the syndicate, the phantom enemies, and the looming shadows of the Sentinels didn't exist. Footsteps echoed softly behind me, followed closely by the familiar, comforting warmth of a heavy tailored jacket settling over my shoulders. Strong arms wrapped gently around my waist, pulling me back against a solid, unyielding chest.