The car hummed along the quiet road as Naela stared out the window, her grip still tight on her father's journal. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was slowly ebbing, replaced by exhaustion and the heavy weight of unanswered questions. Fabricio's silence filled the space between them, his eyes fixed on the road.
"Do you always handle things like that?" Naela finally asked, breaking the silence.
Fabricio didn't glance her way. "Like what?"
"By shooting first and asking questions later."
His lips twitched, though it wasn't quite a smile. "It worked, didn't it? You're still alive."
Naela rolled her eyes. "Barely. Is that how you solve all your problems?"
He finally turned his head, meeting her gaze with a look that made her stomach flip. His gray eyes were intense, layered with something she couldn't quite decipher. "When the problem is someone trying to kill me or you yes. That's exactly how I solve it."
She opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. He wasn't wrong, and she hated how much safer she felt with him around. The car pulled onto a side street, and Fabricio parked in front of a modest hotel. It was a far cry from the grand mansions and estates Naela had grown up in, but it was safe or at least Fabricio seemed to think so.
"We'll stay here for the night," he said, stepping out of the car. Naela hesitated before following, clutching the journal tightly. As they entered the lobby, Fabricio exchanged a few words with the receptionist, who handed him a single key.
"One room?" Naela asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You'll take the bed," Fabricio replied, his tone leaving no room for debate. "I'll take the chair. I don't trust splitting up right now." She wanted to argue but decided against it. She was too tired to care.
The room was small but clean, with a single bed and a worn armchair near the window. Naela placed the journal on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed. Fabricio, true to his word, settled into the chair, his gun resting within arm's reach.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The tension in the air was almost suffocating.
"Why do you do it?" Naela asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Fabricio glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Do what?"
"Live like this. Always running, always fighting. Don't you ever want something… normal?" His gaze softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before disappearing. "Normal doesn't exist in my world. And if it did, it wouldn't last."
Naela frowned. "That's a sad way to live."
"It's reality," he said simply, leaning back in the chair. "What about you? What's your plan now, Naela? You're in this mess whether you like it or not. What are you going to do about it?"
Her jaw tightened as memories of Claudia and Isabella flashed in her mind. The years of torment, the stolen inheritance, her father's legacy tainted by their greed. She met Fabricio's gaze, her eyes blazing with determination.
"I'm going to make them pay," she said, her voice steady. "Claudia, Isabella, Monroe everyone who had a hand in this. They took everything from me. I won't let them win." Fabricio studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Revenge isn't as satisfying as you think," he said finally.
"Maybe not," she replied. "But it's the only thing I have left."
That night, sleep eluded Naela. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling as Fabricio's words replayed in her mind. Revenge isn't as satisfying as you think.
She turned her head slightly, her gaze falling on him. He was still awake, his eyes fixed on the window as if expecting danger to burst through at any moment.
"You're not sleeping either?" she asked softly.
He glanced at her, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "I don't sleep much."
"Why not?"
He hesitated, his smirk fading. "Let's just say I've seen too much to find peace in sleep."
Naela's chest tightened at the quiet pain in his voice. For the first time, she wondered what kind of life Fabricio had led to turn him into the man he was now.
"Thank you," she said after a moment.
He raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For saving me," she said. "For not leaving me behind."
His expression softened, and for a brief moment, the walls he kept so carefully in place seemed to crack. "I wasn't going to let them hurt you," he said simply.
Their gazes locked, the air between them growing heavy. Naela's breath hitched as she saw something flicker in his eyes something raw and unspoken. She felt it too, a strange pull toward him that she couldn't explain. But before she could say anything, he looked away, the moment breaking.
"Get some rest," he said gruffly. "We've got a long day ahead of us." The next morning, Naela woke to the sound of Fabricio on the phone. His voice was low and urgent, his words clipped.
"Yeah, I've got the journal. We'll need a safe location to go over it… No, I don't trust anyone right now."
He ended the call as Naela sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Who was that?"
"An ally," he said, though his tone didn't inspire much confidence. "They're setting up a meeting for us."
Naela frowned. "Can we trust them?"
"We don't have a choice," he replied, grabbing the journal from the nightstand. "Come on. We've got to move."
As they left the hotel and got back into the car, Naela couldn't shake the feeling that their journey was only getting more dangerous. But as she glanced at Fabricio, his expression hard and focused, she realized something else.
For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel alone.