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"Are you expecting a plane to fly over us?" Oliver teased, trying to draw me back in.
I shook my head, still hesitant. "No, I just don't want people to see us."
"That's almost impossible," he assured me, his fingers tracing patterns on my lower back.
I looked out at the boats in the distance, weighing the risk against the temptation of Oliver's touch. The thrill of potentially being caught warred with my sense of propriety, leaving me torn between desire and caution.
As I turned back to Oliver, his eyes blazing with passion, I realized that our honeymoon was already pushing me out of my comfort zone in the most exhilarating ways. Whatever he had planned for the lagoon tonight, I knew it would be an adventure I wouldn't soon forget.
Chapter 12
Raphael
Raphael's eyes widened as he peered through the binoculars, his grip tightening on the smooth metal. "Shit," he breathed, a mixture of excitement and disgust in his voice. "I think they're having sex in the water."
Antonio lunged for the binoculars, his face twisted with morbid curiosity, but Raphael deftly sidestepped him, keeping his gaze fixed on the distant couple.
"She is one hot piece of ass," Raphael muttered, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. A cruel smile played at the corners of his mouth as he added, "Too bad we have to end her."
Antonio leaned against the boat's railing, his eyes glinting with malice. "You could do her before you take her out," he suggested, his voice low and dangerous. "As long as you get him first. Or maybe," he paused, savoring the thought, "you should make him watch you defile his young bride."
Raphael finally lowered the binoculars, turning to face his brother. His expression was hard, years of pent-up resentment etched into the lines of his face. "Fox deserves whatever he gets," he spat. "To think Jonah was here in the Virgin Islands all this time. We were looking in the wrong places."
Antonio nodded, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm on the railing. "All the loose ends will be sewn up in a few days," he mused. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "What does our contact say?"
Raphael's voice took on a businesslike tone as he recited the details. "He has the schedule of security. We'll know where each and every one of them will be when we hit the island." A predatory smile spread across his face as he continued, "There's a weak spot on the west side. It's overgrown, but we can navigate it to get where we need to be. The alarm will be deactivated the night we come."
Antonio let out a low, mirthless laugh as Raphael raised the binoculars once more, continuing to watch the couple until they finished their intimate encounter. The air around them seemed to thicken with the weight of their sinister intentions.
As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the water, Raphael lowered the binoculars for the final time. His voice was cold and detached as he murmured, "I hope they're enjoying their honeymoon." He paused, exchanging a meaningful look with Antonio before adding, "Because it will be their last days on this earth."
The two men stood in silence, the gentle lapping of waves against their boat belying the violent storm of vengeance brewing within them. As they turned away from the idyllic scene before them, their minds were already racing with the details of the brutal plan they were about to set in motion.
Chapter 13
The sun was setting as I emerged from our villa, dressed in a short floral sundress with delicate spaghetti straps. Oliver's eyes lit up as he took in my appearance, his own attire a perfect complement - loose gray slacks with rolled ankles and an untucked short-sleeve dress shirt that hinted at his sculpted physique beneath.
He approached me with a bouquet of vibrant red roses, their sweet fragrance mingling with the salty sea air. As he pressed them into my hands, Oliver leaned in, his nose brushing against my cheek as he kissed me softly.
"You always smell so good," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.
I laughed lightly, a faint blush coloring my cheeks. "I just took a shower. I hope I smell good."
Oliver's eyes sparkled as he pulled back, his hands resting on my waist. "It doesn't matter. I love you any way I can have you."
Hand in hand, we made our way down to the beach where an intimate dinner setting awaited us. A round table, draped in a crisp white linen tablecloth that fluttered gently in the breeze, stood between two chairs positioned on opposite sides. Tiki torches encircled us, their flames dancing in the twilight, casting a warm, romantic glow.
Two waiters in pristine white uniforms materialized, attending to our every need with quiet efficiency. Champagne flowed from a bottle nestled in a hammered brass bucket, beads of condensation glistening in the flickering light.
Our meal was a culinary delight - a crisp endive salad followed by perfectly poached salmon accompanied by cold balsamic green beans. Despite the exquisite fare, I found myself eating sparingly, still satiated from our late lunch.
As we toasted each other, the champagne bubbles tickling my nose, Oliver reached into his pocket and produced a small blue velvet box. My heart skipped a beat as he placed it on the table between us.
"What's this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
A smile played at the corners of Oliver's mouth. "It's your birthday present."
I hesitated, remembering the extravagant gift from the day before. "I think the diamonds were enough yesterday."
