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The words hit me like a shockwave, resonating deep within as I turned, my movements slow, weighted by a different cocktail, one part disbelief, one part dread.
There he was—Prince August—amidst a throng of oblivious adventurers and tourists, his presence as commanding as ever. He stood there, tall, strikingly handsome, a smile playing on his lips that masked the turbulent history we shared. My brother, Caleb, stood by his side with a wide grin, unrestrained, like he had just arrived at the Alps for a week of skiing. The sight of them here, in this remote sanctuary, felt like a punch to the gut.
How was it even possible that they were there? How could they have found us? We hadn’t told a single soul we were coming here.
My heart hammered against my chest, the beats echoing loudly in my ears as the room seemed to tilt on its axis. Daphne’s grip on my arm anchored me just enough to keep me from spinning into a full-blown meltdown.
“What are you doing here, August?” I choked out, my voice tight with rising anger and panic as I glared at him.
He squared his shoulders and stepped closer with a gaze so intense it was impossible for me to look away. “I’m here to win back the only woman I have ever loved.”
Chapter Four
Prince August
The sight of Veronica still struck me with the same awe as the day we first met. To the casual observer, she was an elegant vision to behold, but little did they know that there was a storm that brewed behind those gorgeous brown eyes.
A storm I had, in part, conjured.
The way she looked at me now, with a fire I knew all too well, confirmed that if there had been any sharp objects nearby, they’d have been flying straight at me.
I couldn’t blame her, really.
“You’ve wasted your time coming here,” Veronica said to me, then eyed Caleb to address him. “And you … I don’t understand why you’re here.”
He took a sip of his dawa and grinned mischievously. “Are you saying that you’re the only one in the family who deserves a vacation? Besides, someone needs to keep Daphne company while you and August rekindle your love.”
I’d always appreciated people being direct, but this was not one of those times. Veronica’s stance became more defensive.
“That would be as impossible as trying to assemble ashes back into their original form,” she replied.
“I agree, Veronica,” I said.
She blinked twice. “You do?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.” I took a step toward her, my resolve firm. “Perhaps, instead of trying to reconstruct the past, we need to ignite something new. Something that burns brighter and purer than what we had before.”
It was the truth, my truth, spoken with the hope that she would see the sincerity in my words, and perhaps lower her defenses. I watched her closely, every micro-expression, ready to navigate through the rough waters. Based on the sour expression on her face, I knew it would take some time.
Veronica drank half of her dawa in one long gulp, then sighed. “There will be no rekindling, rebuilding, or rejuvenating. And since when have you been so poetical? Did you memorize all that? Forget it. It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested, and the only thing flaming at the moment is my resentment.” Then she polished off the rest of her drink in another gulp and set the glass on the bar.
“Well, at least rehydrating is still acceptable,” Daphne said, finishing her drink and setting it next to Veronica’s glass.
I gestured to their two empty glasses. “I’m pretty sure these are meant to be sipped, not chugged. Be careful, ladies.”
“Sometimes you have to live a little,” Caleb chuckled and downed the rest of his dawa in one ambitious gulp. He slammed the glass down on the bar with a satisfied grin. “Okay, I think I just set my throat on fire.”
“When in Rome …” I winked, then matched Caleb’s enthusiasm and finished my drink, then set the glass on the bar and turned to the bartender. “Four more of these, please,” I croaked softly.
The bartender, a young man with an amiable smile, nodded and replied, “Coming right up!”
Veronica shot me a glare sharp enough to cut through the jovial atmosphere. “I didn’t say you could order more drinks for us, August.”
I paused, taken aback by the intensity of her objection.
“I thought a drink might lighten the mood a little,” I said, attempting to keep the situation cordial.
“We don’t need to lighten anything,” she snapped, her tone icy.
