There’s no going back. I’ve dug myself too deeply into whatever this thing is with Amelia. I let go of the guilt by accepting it for what it is. It’s like she has this hold over me that I can’t break loose of. And I don’t want to anymore. I’m selfishly giving in, putting my own wants and desires above doing the right thing.

Thick clouds gray the skies, and a light drizzle of rain makes its way over us. We get dressed, pack up our things, and race back to my car, scrambling to get the top up before it starts to pour. I didn’t tell her it’s mine, because it doesn’t feel like I own it. I won it in Monaco during one of the highest stake poker games I’d ever played with Rashi, a stupid, drunk, rich kid who was barely out of high school. We already had two hundred thousand on the line, more than enough to make me sweat. He added a priceless engagement ring—which I later found out he’d inherited—to the pot. I threw in my great-grandfather’s antique Rolex—my dad would have lost his shit if he knew. But Rashi lost. His flush to my full house.

I felt so bad for him, I did something even more stupid. Let him keep the ring. Turns out it was worth more than even he knew, having first been crafted for Indian royalty, and then passed down for generations. He was so grateful to not have to explain his fuck up to his family that he gave me this car, an Audi R8 Spyder, agreeing to keep it garaged. Even gave me a spare key to his vacation house and told me to stay there whenever I was in town. That’s how I became friends with Rashi, the last member to join my strange group of thrill-seeking nomads.

The five of us usually travel together when Sykes isn’t competing. Rashi and his girlfriend, Zara. Davey. Sykes. And me. We all have two things in common. We don’t stay in one place for long, and we like to do crazy, adrenaline junkie shit. Jump out of planes. Gamble for high stakes. Surf during storms. Whatever makes our pulses race.

I don’t know how I’m going to connect that life to Amelia’s. She craves stability, family, a good job—all things that usually send me running, but I have to find a way to make it work. I have to figure out how our lives fit together. Because I meant what I said about not being able to give her up.

As I’m driving, Amelia’s phone dings. Her eyes flare as she reads the text. “Ugh, they know I’m not at the spa. Viviana went there looking for me.”

“Tell them you went for a walk.”

She replies to the text, eyeing me over the rim of her phone. “What?” I say, glancing over at her.

“Nothing. Just—you’re good at lying.”

I shake my head, disagreeing. “Not lying. Bullshitting. See the difference? Technically you did go for a walk. You’re just leaving out the part about where and with who.”

She snorts. “And you don’t think you’re cut out to practice law?”

I suppress a smile. My dad would be right there with her on that.

We arrive at the château, and it’s pouring. Like on our first night in London, I hold my jacket above Amelia’s head, trying to shield her from the rain. But it’s useless. It’s coming down too hard.

“You don’t have to go in with me,” she says, as we race toward the entrance.

“Yes, I do.” The encounter from the train still has me shaken. I’m not letting her out of my sight. It’s why I booked a room here at Le Château d’Avignon, even going so far as to request the same floor. Even that isn’t good enough. I’d rather she was sleeping right beside me where I can see her.

We stop just shy of the doors, a ladder in our way. I move to go underneath it, and Amelia slaps her hand to my chest. “Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head, refusing to budge.

Right. The whole superstition thing.

“Forget the jacket. We’re soaked anyway.” She walks out into the rain, trying to push the ladder out of the way. Tossing the jacket over my shoulder, I help her move it aside so it’s no longer blocking the door. By the time we make it into the lobby, water is puddling at our feet. The guy at the front desk grumbles something in French when he sees us.

Wet hair plastered to her face, soaked from head to toe, Amelia looks at me and laughs. “Thanks for today, Casper. It was…fun.”

“Told you it would be. Go on up to your room,” I say, noticing the way she’s shivering. “I’ll wait a few minutes, then take the back stairwell.”

She nods, starts to leave, but stops again. “The, ah wedding—you’re still going, right?”

“A midnight wedding full of hot-headed Serras and Care’s wackadoo bohemian tribe? Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She smiles. “See you tonight.”

I watch her go, knowing I’m in so much fucking trouble with this girl. How I’m going to make it through a wedding with all her relatives breathing down my neck is a shit show waiting to happen. But I’m willing to do it anyway. For her.

To make matters worse, I find Leo sitting on the top step of the custodial stairwell.

Smoking a blunt. As if it’s not a public place.

“Figured I’d find you sneaking up not long after she did.” He taps the head of his blunt against the railing, scattering ashes across the concrete floor. His stony features are unreadable.

I glance behind me. Should I go back? It’d probably save me a lot of trouble…

Eh. I’ll have to deal with him at some point. Might as well be now. Besides, he’ll be more agreeable if he’s high.

“Well, here I am.”

“Unfortunately,” he adds, shaking his head. “It’d be nice if I was wrong once in a while.”

“Stressed, Leo?” We both know it’s the only reason he smokes.

“Let’s see,” he says, keeping his tone flat. “My bloody loon of an aunt is marrying into this crackpot family tonight for reasons I can’t even begin to make sense of. Then add you to the mix, taking my baby sister to God knows where, doing God knows what, while we’re all trying to make sure she’s safe. Stressed? I don’t know. You could say I’m not fucking thrilled about any of it.”

“I took her to see the waterfalls. Get over yourself. Nothing happened.”

I try to step around him, but he jumps up, snaking his hand around my elbow. “You need to leave,” he says, wisps of smoke seeping out of his nostrils. “This town. This country. This whole bloody continent.”

I shrug out of his grasp. “Stop being so fucking dramatic, Leo.”

“I warned you to stay away from her.”

“You did. I chose not to listen.”

His jaw ticks. He stares me down for several seconds, looking as if he’s close to throwing a fist my way. I stand straighter, ready for it. This has been a long time coming.

But then he backs off, sighing. “Listen, my dad is here for the wedding. If he sees you…things will escalate. He’s still angry.”

“For what? Saving Mila’s life? Introducing her to her family when she had no one left?”

“That’s not the way he sees it.” Leo curls his lips around the short blunt, inhaling for several seconds, then stubs it out against the concrete. He locks his red, glassy-eyed gaze with mine. “You have to disappear, Cas. I’m telling you this as a friend, not as Mila’s brother.”

“I can’t do that. If Renzo wants to be mad, fine. I don’t care anymore.”

“Do what you want. But just know this. I won’t be able to help you when the shit hits the fan.”