Page 77 of The Malibu Destiny

Despite the anxiety coursing through me, I can't help but smile. Classic Jack. But Roman has no idea where I am. Even if he narrows it down to Carmel, what then? My shop isn't open, and I've been crashing at Raven's place—someone he's never even heard of. Carmel has thousands of residents. I'm practically invisible.

I catch myself. Shouldn't I want him to find me? But the truth is, I don't. If Roman tracks me down, Sera will make good on her threats. She always does. Women like her—blessed with beauty, bankrolled by daddy, and willing to fight dirty when necessary—they've been getting their way since the beginning of time. The rich crush the rest of us simply because they can. Serafina's just following the same old script, and I'm the nobody standing in her way. What chance do I have?

Still, I can't help myself. Raven doesn't do tarot, but Raven's friend, Marigold, does. So, I go to her shop, tucked between a vintage bakery and a handmade jewelry store in that quaint town area where every building looks plucked from a Brothers Grimm illustration—all gingerbread trim and storybook shutters.

The moment I push open the door, I smell jasmine, my absolute favorite scent since childhood. Polished oak floors are so pristine that I can almost see my reflection as I walk. Marigold floats toward me, her honey-blonde hair cascading in waves beneath a teal silk scarf, her flowy tunic the color of sunset. Before I can even introduce myself, she enfolds me in a hug that feels like coming home, her arms surprisingly strong for someone so ethereal, and in that instant—her cheek pressed against mine, her heartbeat somehow in sync with my own—I know with bone-deep certainty that she's one of my soul sisters.

“Raven tells me you’re suffering from a broken heart,” she says. “So let’s see what the cards tell us.” I follow her back to her reading room, and she shuffles some cards and throws them out - she doesn’t put them into two stacks and have me choose a stack. To each their own.

She tilts her head, silver bangles tinkling as she studies the Celtic Cross formation. The final card catches my eye immediately—The Sun, its golden rays bursting from the edges of the worn card, promising happiness on my horizon. Happy with Roman? The thought sends a flutter through my stomach, though I can't imagine how that's possible right now. Still, the card promises joy will find me, one way or another.

My fingers hover over the spread, tracing the air above each revelation. Roman dominates the layout—The Emperor sits upright in his stone throne, stern and commanding in the position of influence. The King of Wands blazes with fiery Aries energy in the hopes position, his lion-headed staff aglow with the same intensity I've seen in Roman's eyes when he's focused on a goal. And there, in the position of what's coming, the Knight of Cups offers his chalice with a dreamy expression, revealing a tender heart beneath Roman's hard exterior. Together they paint him in vivid strokes—powerful yet passionate, visionary yet vulnerable. And remarkably, each card sits in a position of promise rather than warning.

She studies the cards, her eyes widening. "This man you're mourning—he's still very much in your future. I see something quite promising here." Her gaze flicks up to mine. "What happened between you?" Before I can answer, she waves her hand. "No, no—I see it now." Her finger taps the reversed Queen of Swords. "This woman—cold, calculating—she inserted herself between you. She wields words like knives, thinks only of herself." A soft click of her tongue. “Nasty piece of work, that one. But look here—" she traces the surrounding cards, "—her influence is temporary. These cards suggest she'll fade from your story soon."

She gathers the deck, shuffling with practiced hands. "Let's see what becomes of her, shall we?" Her eyes close briefly as she lays out a new pattern. A small, satisfied smile curves her lips. "Ah. Her own schemes will be her undoing. See the Seven of Swords? Deception. And here—Justice. The scales will balance. I wonder what secrets she's hiding."

I trace my finger over the cards, lingering on the Justice card that sits opposite the reversed Queen of Swords—Serafina, no doubt. The cards whisper of deceit, of secrets kept in shadow. My pulse quickens as I imagine Roman uncovering whatever Sera's hiding. The Tower and the Lovers sit side by side in the outcome position, promising destruction followed by union.

My chest tightens with a feeling I haven't allowed myself since Serafina’s threats.

Could the universe actually be conspiring in our favor?

Chapter Forty-Six

ROMAN

I spend the night fighting my sheets, sweating through the damn silk until it clings to me like I'd been caught in a riptide. Every time I close my eyes, there’s Serafina, that shark in Louboutins with those blood-red nails and a smile that never touches her eyes.

When my phone buzzes at 5 AM, I nearly knock over the whiskey I'd left on the nightstand. It’s Sven.

"Tell me you found something," I say, already sitting up.

"Nothing concrete on Orion," he says, his accent thicker than usual. "But I dug deeper. Six separate trades, Roman. All before major announcements. The SEC would have a field day with this."

"Send it all to me," I say, already calculating how to use this. "I want to see her face when she realizes I've got her."

He rattles off the damning list: the Orion trade from five years back when she'd spilled her secrets to Caspian over three bottles of vintage Bordeaux; Cohen and Friesz law firm stocks purchased days before a merger that sent shares soaring like eagles; dumped shares in Swedish toy company Flicka and Pojke, mere hours before their wooden train set was found to be a death trap for toddlers; Boeing stocks sold just before their planes started falling from the sky like wounded birds; and finally, a massive buy-in to Chinese EV company Red Star Motors, right before they unveiled a revolutionary battery that had Elon Musk grinding his teeth with envy.

I rub my hands together, a surge of adrenaline shooting through my veins. Checkmate, bitch. Two birds, one stone - I'll crush her until she backs off my father and Lilith, and I'll make damn sure she knows I've got Sven watching her every financial move like a hawk circling wounded prey.

If she even thinks about pulling this insider trading shit again, she'll rot in prison for 20 years minimum. My conscience flickers - shouldn't I already be dialing the feds? But hell no - I'd have to reveal how I got this intel, expose Sven, and that's a powder keg I'm not lighting unless I have to. Serafina won't know my hesitation though. I'll stare straight into those snake eyes of hers and make her believe I'm one heartbeat away from destroying her entire life if she so much as whispers about Lilith or Dad to a single living soul.

I call her. "Sera," I say. "Bone and Brass. Tonight. 7." Then I hang up.

My phone buzzes non-stop for the next several hours. I ignore it until curiosity gets the better of me. I scroll through her messages with mounting disbelief.

Are we finally going to talk about us?

Ten minutes after this message…

I knew you'd come around! I'll wear that black dress you couldn't take your eyes off last time. Can't wait to see you tonight. I love you, Roman.

Twenty minutes later…

Spring wedding at Lake Como would be perfect. The wisteria will be blooming against those mountains. We could have the whole resort to ourselves before tourist season!

One hour later…