SERAPHINA’S POV
I should have known my plan wouldn’t survive first contact with reality.
It lasted through the six-hour flight to Nassau, which I spent on the opposite side of Kieran’s private jet, as far away from my ex-husband as I could get.
Even with the distance, Kieran’s presence was heavy but contained—controlled, like a predator sizing up its prey, except I wasn’t prey.
I had Daniel on my mind, the island ahead, and the tiny spark of warmth from Lucian’s kiss still lingering in my chest.
But everything went to shit after we touched down in Nassau and transitioned onto Kieran’s yacht, Ashar’s pride, and I realized something new about myself: I get seasick.
The yacht looked like something out of a glossy magazine spread—sleek, ivory-white hull gleaming beneath the noon sun, its polished chrome railings winking like jewelry against the endless sweep of ocean.
