A week later
“I love you,” Ethan said as I lay breathlessly beside him, my body still trembling from the intensity of having him inside me. His words lingered in the air, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them back. If I truly loved him, would I have put his life in danger?
I moved closer, resting my head on his warm chest as he gently stroked my hair. “You know, I was thinking maybe it’s time to leave the ship,” Ethan murmured, his voice soft but insistent. My heart skipped a beat. Ever since Wayne told me what they were really planning, I’d been refusing to get off the ship.
“No, let’s stay,” I insisted. I was seasick, tired of seeing the same faces every day, but more than anything, I didn’t want anything to happen to Ethan.
“I know you’re scared, but I think it’s safe now,” Ethan said, trying to reassure me. “Wayne and Alfred have fled the country, and I hear they’re more afraid of us than we are of them.”
I shook my head. “No!” I protested, my voice sharper than I intended. Ethan shifted beside me, adjusting his position to look directly into my eyes. “Is there a reason you don’t want to leave?” he asked, his curiosity evident.
My heart broke as I thought of the real reason. How could I tell him that I betrayed him and that he might be killed if we left the ship?
“Nothing,” I said, forcing a smile. “I just love how intimate this place is.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, the ship had brought out a closeness between us that I hadn’t anticipated. We spent most of our time together, and the passion between us was undeniable.
Ethan smiled, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. “The ship has been compromised for almost a week now. We need to leave,” he insisted, despite my plea.
“I already asked the captain to take us somewhere,” Ethan said, sitting up to look at me more seriously. “I meant what I said, Emily, no more secrets.”
He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. “I want to show you my biggest secret, something I’ve hidden from everyone, even my son Jake.”
My heart raced. “What is it?” I asked, my voice laced with curiosity.
“My island,” Ethan replied, his voice filled with a mix of pride and vulnerability.
“Your what?” I asked, sitting up to make sure I heard him correctly.
Ethan nodded, his expression serious. “When I started working for Gloria’s father, I was just a kid in an orphanage, I was overzealous, and always in trouble. I went places I wasn’t supposed to, putting myself in danger.”
“He taught me to be tough and rough and used me as his little hitman,” Ethan explained, his voice tinged with the pain of old memories.
“He made me do things and threatened to harm the orphanage if I didn’t,” Ethan continued, and my heart ached with pity for him.
“How old were you?” I asked softly.
“I met him when I was 14” he replied, and my heart broke further for him. At 14, I was still under my mother’s protective wing.
“It wasn’t all bad,” Ethan said with a small smile, trying to downplay it. “I got paid well, and after I saved enough money, I bought an island in the middle of nowhere.”
I stared at him, confused. “Why?”
“With the island, I was able to move everyone I loved there and tell Christof they died in a fire,” Ethan explained, and I finally understood.
“So the island is occupied?” I asked, smiling as Ethan nodded.
“I’d love to see it,” I said, feeling a sense of relief that we were heading to Ethan’s safe place. I couldn’t wait to see the people Ethan had grown up with.
We spent the rest of the day in bed, and by the evening, we arrived at the island.
As the yacht got closer to the island, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Ethan’s secret island wasn’t just a hidden place; it was like a small, lively city. The beaches were lined with tall palm trees swaying in the breeze, and behind them, green hills surrounded modern buildings that looked like they grew right out of the ground.
As we got nearer, I could see more details. Smooth stone streets connected elegant homes, busy markets, a school, and even a small hospital. The buildings were a mix of modern and rustic styles, made from wood and stone that blended perfectly with the natural surroundings.
When we finally docked, a large crowd was waiting on the pier. About 300 people stood there, their faces full of warmth and happiness. The air buzzed with excitement, and as Ethan stepped off the yacht, the crowd cheered. I looked at him, surprised to see a big smile on his face.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know how they always know when I’m coming,” Ethan apologized with a sheepish smile.
“This is sweet, actually,” I said, blushing on his behalf. The turnout was amazing, almost overwhelming.
“Hey, bud, I’m so sorry about your son,” one of the men said, walking up to Ethan and giving him a hug.
To my surprise, Ethan accepted the hug. He looked relaxed, at home, it was like I was seeing a different person entirely.
“Welcome,” a group of people said to me, their voices sincere. I could feel their kindness, their acceptance. It was clear that Ethan was loved, respected, cherished by these people.
As I looked around, taking in the beauty of the island and the sense of community that surrounded us, I realized just how much Ethan had built here. This place wasn’t just a refuge for him; it was a sanctuary. Amidst the excitement and joy, I felt a sense of guilt. What if Ethan is not the monster I was made to believe?