We’ll do it together.
“We can for a while. If you’ll have me, that is.”
“What?”
I beckon her with my hand then grab her as she grumbles about something, pulling her through the ankle-deep water until she’s standing beside me. Her hands fly to her mouth instantly, feet moving back a little. “If you’ll have me, Gabriella Alves.”
Her eyes swing to mine, shock written all over them. I’m not surprised. Keeping this from her has been a covert op all in itself, something Den was all over like a rash with his fucking earpiece.
“Are you…” Still she stands there, apparently speechless. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or not as I watch her feet move again, this time forward. “But you…How did you…?”
She walks over to the middle of the beach, leaving me with nothing but what she’s not saying as she makes her way to the floral arch. I gaze on, unsure how this is going to play out, and slowly begin walking to the shore, giving her some room to make decisions. If it were up to me there would be nothing to consider, nothing to even think about, but this is Gabby. Her decision. Her future. And one with me means all the shit that comes with my name.
She stands beneath the arch and fiddles with the flowers for a while, eventually turning to look at me as I wait for her answer. So fucking beautiful. Always has been, right from that very first night before anything got in our way. And her fingers touching the flower in her hair, a light laugh following the move, makes me sigh for the future I wish I could offer her rather than what we’ll have with my name involved.
“You haven’t officially asked, though,” she says quietly.
I smirk and make my way over, damn sure I’ll drop onto my knees if that’s what she needs to make this happen, injury or not. She smiles back, a soft lilt to the look as she keeps playing with her flower.
“That what you need?” I ask, pushing aside my phone and drawing the velvet box from my pocket. She nods, nothing more as I brace my hand on my knee to help me down to the sand. She giggles as I stumble a little, the ache in my thigh causing me more damn problems than I’m admitting. I’d tell her to zip it if I wasn’t so damn enamoured by the sound of it, happy to have it filling my air every second of each day.
“Gabriella Alves, will you be my wife?” I ask, lifting the box and opening it.
She doesn’t look at the ring. She drops to her knees instead, arms nearly knocking me over as she pushes me onto my back and straddles across me. My hands close around her instantly, arms wrapping her up into me as we kiss the moment into our minds. That’s what this is. Fuck the actual marriage. I don’t need that. I need her acceptance of it, and these seconds right here, but she can have the words if she needs them to feel at home.
She can have everything if she wants it.
“Oh god, the ring,” she says suddenly, pulling away from me.
Fuck the ring.
I reach for her again, ignoring the cough that comes from the side of us somewhere. It’s only the minister, and he can damn well wait until we’re ready. She looks at him, though, another shocked face. “You mean right now?” she squeals.
I look at the guy, suddenly more interested in making this happen than I thought. “Yeah, right now,” I reply, pushing her up and climbing to my feet. “I’m not giving you a chance to skip out on me again.”
She smiles and laughs, holding her hand up. “Best put it on then.”
It takes a fucking eternity to slip the sapphire onto her finger. For some reason time seems to stall in the moment, her hand shaking as I try to hold it still. No diamonds, not for my little thief. She’ll remember this one because it matches our sea, not because it’s a piece she stole. She’s being given this one, asked to wear it for the rest of her life and never take it off. With any luck she will, making me a happier man by the day because of it.
Another cough breaks me from gazing at it, bringing us both back to the present rather than the peace I was lingering in for a few seconds.
“Are you both ready?” the guy says, a book open in his palm, one hand holding the platinum rings in the middle of it.
“I’m really not dressed for this,” she says, looking me over and gazing at the white linen I’m wearing. I tug her over to the arch again, not giving one fuck for how dressed she is. She’s here, on our beach, alive and breathing with me.
That’s all either of us should care about.
“You won’t be wearing clothes for long anyway,” I reply, thinking of wedding nights as the sun starts dropping lower behind us.
Long nights. Late mornings.
Love.
The minister starts talking as we stand in front of him. I don’t hear the words. All I can see and hear is her. The way she moves. The way she smiles. The way she looks at me as if this is all she’ll ever need. Even the way her breath calmly keeps pushing in and out regardless of all she’s been through, her hand holding mine as we cling onto the moment, forgetting the future for a while.
That’s a Cane woman if I’ve ever seen one.
She glows in this light, not that she ever doesn’t, but something about this moment in time makes her seem luminous against the cliffs around us. It’s the white, or the look of her softened features as she gazes back at me, all care for what has transpired seemingly lost under this event. Love does that, though. Love conquers all, or so I’ve heard.
Certainly feels that way.
We’ll make those children. Walk these beaches. Live and laugh and love, no matter what comes for us. We have to, because nothing is standing in the way of me making her happy, of me giving her a family she can feel safe in.
Gabriella Cane will have everything she’s never had before, and she’ll have it with me.
Epilogue
Six months later
“She’s really pretty.”
Nate’s “huh” of acknowledgement is neither a confirmation or a denial. He’s been off ever since Emily and Quinn arrived a week ago. She seems perfectly lovely to me, and the complete opposite of Quinn, but Nate’s hackles are up every time she’s near either of us.
We wander along the front terrace, gazing at the small crowd gathered in our home. “Are you ever going to tell me why you two don’t get on?” There’s something there, a hidden secret buried between them. I see it when Emily catches his eye. Her face is an open book, soft, kind.
Despite the happy occasion, the feeling of being under surveillance has only intensified. Being around Nate’s brother sets my nerves on edge. It’s been six months, but it still feels like yesterday. The visions of Quinn facing off the Yakuza with Nate in that warehouse, the blood they both spilled, the pain and death—it’s all still at the forefront of my mind, warning me that nothing’s been resolved.
When it’s just me and Nate, I can pretend, ignore it all, but I’m getting restless now that I don’t know all the details. And Quinn makes me more so, constantly whispering things to Nate out of earshot.
I squeeze Nate’s hand as he takes mine and imagine Quinn’s reaction if he knew we were already married.
“If Quinn and Emily are here, does that mean we can get back to some normalcy?”
“No.” He cuts me off. “We can talk about it after the wedding. I promise.”
I try not to be disappointed with his response. It’s not like anything has changed just because Quinn’s made an honest woman of Emily, as honest as marrying a man like that is anyway. We’re still in hiding, away from dangerous eyes and people with grudges.
The setting of the wedding brings back memories of the day Nate proposed and had me saying ‘I do’ before I knew what was happening. Not that I’d change my decision to marry him. I love him with all my heart, but this is the kind of dream my childhood hopes remember, the family I longed for all those years.
Emily’s white dress clings to her hourglass shaped figure beautifully. The light fabric billows around her legs as it catches in the breeze, and the diamante embellishments catch in the sunbeams soaking the beach.
Guests gaze at her as I do now, congratulating her on her wedding and toasting the air between her and Quinn. It would have been the style of dress I’d have chosen if Nate had given me any kind of time to plan. I pout at the thought and smooth my orange organza dress down, irritated that I can’t shout about our marriage like Quinn and Emily are doing.
“Let me get you another glass of champagne.” Nate plants a reassuring kiss to my forehead before moving across the courtyard to the table where a dozen glasses are set up waiting.
Our home has been transformed into a luxury destination wedding resort. Not that it needed a lot of adjustments. Waiters and waitresses scatter about between the grounds and the beach, ensuring the crowd are all well attended. We could give the resort on Bora a run for its money.
“Everything okay?” Joe wanders up to me. He’s been my shadow for six months, and we’ve struck up a friendship of sorts.
“Fine.”
“Yet I hear disappointment.”
“It’s just been a long time in one place for me. It’s hard.” He doesn’t comment but looks out at where Nate has gone to collect a drink. It’s not like he can say anything in response, is it? Nate pays his wages. I’ve never had friends in my life, but it’s times like this when I wish I did. The thought has me looking at Emily again. If anyone knows this life, then surely, she must. Although, there doesn’t appear to be a devious bone in her body, which is yet another conundrum as to why she’s anywhere near her husband.
They head over to Nate, and his body language instantly screams hostility as she approaches. If I hadn’t spent the last week with her, I’d insist that she’s offended or slighted Nate in some way, but that’s just not the type of woman she seems to be. Quinn is awfully possessive, never letting her out of his reach. It’s an interesting side to him—a side that smiles a real sense of happiness, something I’ve not seen once from him previous to this week. Perhaps he’s not as bad as I have him racked up to be. The juxtaposition of his persona here is as perplexing as the rest of the Cane world.
The three of them eventually turn to head in my direction. I suck in a breath, waiting to congratulate the newlyweds, tipping my wide brimmed hat down to shield the sunlight from my face.
“Emily, congratulations. You look stunning.” She blushes at my comment, practically beaming under my gaze.
“Thank you, Gabby,” she replies, gathering her dress out of the way so Quinn doesn’t step on it. “And thank you again for letting us use your place. It’s a perfect setting.”
“Yes, it is.” There’s a whimsical note to my voice that I can’t help. This place is paradise, has been since the moment we arrived. Nate is back at my side in a second, and I lean into him, thankful for his contact.
“So, when are you two going to follow us down the aisle?” Emily asks, lifting her champagne flute as her eyes flash down to the sapphire on my hand.
I turn to Nate, lifting my brow in question. I still don’t know why we have to hide this from them.
“Marrying a Cane takes guts, Em,” Quinn says smoothly, levelling me with a firm stare as if he’s laying down a challenge. “As I’m sure you already know.” She snickers and moves into him, her fingers linking into his.
“I agree.” I hold his stare and square my shoulders, still ready to show my commitment to Nate. “We’ll be sure to let you know when we set a date.” My smile is devious and aimed directly at Quinn. If he gave me a chance he’d see me as an asset not a threat. Even the few times he’s been out here to visit Nate, it’s been the same, as if I have to fight him for Nate the entire time. Wife beats brother in my book. He needs to wake up and realise I’m not going anywhere.
“Why don’t we go for a walk, let the bride and groom speak to a few more guests,” Nate says, tugging my hand to lead me away through the guests and towards the beach. “You wanna tell me what that was that all about?”
I sigh. I don’t know what it’s all about, just my frustrations getting the better of me.
“Only the usual. It’s always the same with Quinn. Any reason you’ve not told your brother we’re already married? It might help him accept me if he knows I’m your wife.” He just smiles at me, revealing his dimple, and chuckles a little. “Hey, this isn’t the time to tell me that minister was a fraud and we’re not actually married.”
“Not a fucking chance, Mrs Cane.” He wraps his arms around me, pulling me in close. The name makes me smile into his chest, comforted by it regardless of no one else knowing. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
“Only a few times.” I shake myself down in his hold, pushing the irritations away and smiling. It’s a good day. A lovely one. We can celebrate our marriage another day, let the world know some other time. “How do you like my necklace?” It’s the piece from Antwerp, the first piece I showed him from my collection.
“So, they arrived?”
“Yes. Earlier this week. I’ve been desperate to fill the safe. It’s been lonely all these months.” It’s taken far too long, but all of my possessions from Antwerp and Miami are now with me in Costa Rica, including all of my own pieces.
Going back to any of my properties, especially those, is apparently too risky. No one knows I’m here, not even Christophe. It’s surprising how much I miss him now I’m not able to see him. The loose communication we’ve maintained isn’t the same. Our business wasn’t just in the shadows, and although I know I can’t jeopardize either of us, I long for the day where I can return without looking over my shoulder. Sit in a cafe and chat about work, about diamonds. Another frown descends before I can stop it.
“Hey.” Nate tips my chin so he can search my eyes under the brim of my hat. He’s learnt to read me so well these last few months.
“When, Nate?”
“I don’t know. Quinn’s working on it.”
“He’s been working on it for six months. I thought Cane didn’t hide or run. Wasn’t that the point when you painted the warehouse red with blood?”
The muscles in his jaw ripple as he tenses. “What do you want me to say, Gabby?” He leads me further away from the guests. “Look around you. This is Quinn still working.” I glance around the space, seeing nothing but happy guests. “There’s barely ten people here who actually mean anything to him other than work.” He points at two guys. “Raphael Denago and his cousin, Matias. Colombian drug barons.” He moves his hand towards two women over on the terrace. “Their wives. You think Quinn wants them at the most important day of his life?” Emily walks towards the two women, the smile on her face enough to charm anyone into friendship. “Or any of the others here? He doesn’t. But he needs them to think he does. For us. He’s picking our allies. Crafting the route. It takes time.” I frown at the thought, annoyed that I’m still in the dark about the plots at play in our own lives.
“Well, why didn’t you tell me? I need to know, Nate.” He nods and walks us to a table and chairs before the sand, pulling the seat out for me.
“Alright. Yakuza now run everything your brother had. If our sources are right, he’s even moved up within the company. Seems the lure of bigger and better still works for him and he’s not bothered who he works for. I’ve been trying to find a way of telling you about him.” He sighs and looks over at his own brother. “Quinn’s all but turning back the clock on our business. And Andreas is going to be in the direct line of fire when the time comes.”
“What does that even mean, though.” My frustration is clear.
“It means the clean, legitimate world I worked so hard to build is buried. Long fucking gone.”
“Because of me.” I finish for him.
“No, not because of you.” He reaches over the table and takes my hand. “Never. It was heading that way even if I didn’t know it. Hell, it was the reason I was even in Bora in the first place. Yakuza had a target slapped on our backs before I met you. Now it’s just a lot fucking bigger. Quinn will not, under any circumstances, bow to them. And this is the consequence.”
I look bac
k towards the gardens and watch Emily still speaking to the two women, Quinn hovering around her protectively as he speaks to the husbands. Joe and Den are within eyesight, guns under their suits. There are another six men around the property, too, and a fair few more that I’ve never seen before. Presumably they are bodyguards for the other mob bosses I now know are here. It might be a paradise, but it’s beginning to feel like a prison; the walls are just a lot prettier.
“Hey, is that Mortoni?” My brows knit together as I squint through the people bustling around.
“Yes.”
“Why? Why is he here?”
“He’s a partner with Cane. With Quinn.”
“Is that why I’ve not heard anything about repaying the other half of the diamonds he lost?”
“Let’s just say Quinn had a few words for him. He’s not worried about diamonds anymore. He’s picking his side, too.”
As if he senses us talking about him, Marco looks up and spots us before proceeding to wander over and join us.
“Gabriella, how lovely to see you again.” The charm drips from his tongue but has the reverse effect on me. Both Nate and I stand, his arm snaking tighter around me to pull me close into him.
“Hello, Marco,” I reply.
“Marco.” Nate’s tone is frosty.
“This is where you’ve been all these months.” He directs his question to Nate.
“Yeah. Something we can help you with?” Nate’s polite, but there’s an underlying edge that makes Marco shift on the spot.
“I just wanted to say hello to Gabriella.” His eyes shift to mine and I can’t help the tremor of repulsion that rushes over me at the way he looks at me.
“She’s not yours to fucking look at, Marco,” Nate growls.
He turns to Nate, nods and takes a few steps back before turning and returning to the rest of the guests. Guess that was all that needed to be said.
“Harsh,” I say, smiling.
“He might have chosen sides, but I don’t trust him yet.”
I don’t either.
Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2) Page 30