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Because she’s mine.

I didn’t fully realize I felt that way until the words were out. I couldn’t deny their resounding truth. Isa has always been mine and always will be, whether she knows it or not.

And I get the sense a part of her does know.

The way her body innately responds to me gives me hope that I’m not some delusional psychopath. I didn’t make it all up. I know I didn’t. The memories are so real. I can close my eyes and still recall the euphoric feeling of my body moving inside hers.

My brain wouldn’t have fabricated such intricate false memories, would it?

I’m relieved to avoid the question when a voice suddenly bursts from the radio. “Calypso, this is command at Pouthená, you copy?”

“Command, this is Calypso, over.”

“Kairos is requesting permission to board. You good with us sending a boat? Over.”

“Copy that, command. Ready to receive, over.”

Kairos’s visit is exactly the distraction I need. I told him we were coming when I reached out to him two days ago to ask for a favor. Plus, I knew he’d want to visit me as soon as I was within reach of the island—we’ve been long overdue for an in-person conversation. I prefer not to discuss business over the phone or on the radio if it can be avoided. My extended absence has overridden those preferences, so our talks have been limited.

Thirty minutes later, a speedboat races toward us, and I can see the tree-covered coastline of Pouthená off our port side. As one of the southern interior islands of the Bermuda archipelago, it’s relatively hidden and well-suited as a discreet base of operations. Kai resides primarily on the island while I oversee our business dealings on the Calypso.

After years of dedicating our lives to expanding the Greek’s holdings, we worked well enough together to continue the arrangement after his death less than a year ago. It wasn’t the life I originally saw for myself, but I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. Kairos and I are both wealthy beyond anything I could have imagined as a kid, and aside from our loyalty to one another, we’re free men.

“You’re the only asshole I know whose hair somehow looks better after rather than worse after spending ten minutes doing thirty miles an hour in the ocean air.” I offer my hand to steady him as he boards.

“You must not know many Greeks. Our curls love the ocean—it’s our gift from the gods.” His deadpan manner of speech makes him sound aloof to outsiders. I know him too well for that. I also know that while he’s of Greek descent, he’s as Greek as I’m Italian.

“I have curly hair, and it looks like shit after being out in the wind.”

“Wrong kind of curl—too tight.”

I huff.

“If this is what occupies your mind lately, I suppose it explains your new interest in women’s clothes.” He motions toward the two men who came with him, both carrying armloads of shopping bags with them. “I’ve known you a long time. Can’t say I saw you as the cross-dressing type, but people can be unpredictable.”

“Fuck you, dickhead.”

Kairos smirks. “You wish.”

I ignore him and turn to one of my crew. “Felix, show these two down to my cabin, then take them downstairs and make sure they’re comfortable.”

“Yes, sir.” He takes Kairos’s men inside, and I lead my friend up the outside stairs to the sky deck. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Something red.”

I nod and head inside to pour us each a Pinot Noir, then join him at the teak dining table banquet. The temperature is comfortable now that we’re farther south, and it helps that the wind is calm. A sunny seventy-five degrees feels like heaven after the frigid climate back in New York.

“Tell me everything I’ve missed while I’ve been gone.”

“First, you tell me what the hell you’ve been up to and why I just offloaded a closet full of women’s clothes. I thought you were hunting traffickers.” His arched brow tells me he’s not going to budge until I give him something.

“There’s not much to tell,” I say casually. “The Italians were planning a marriage alliance. I objected.”

His gray eyes narrow. “Are you telling me you stole the bride?”

“Wedding gown and all.”

“Not your style.” He raises his glass in a toast. “I approve.”