At first, she needed Roman to signal when to speed up or slow down.

A few minutes later, Violette had figured out the rhythm: pressing on the tail of the board to brake, leaning forward to accelerate. If someone were to ask her what the most liberating moment of her life had been so far, she would probably say it was this: right here, right now. The speed was hers to command, the horizon stretched into infinity, and the wind was her only companion.

For a split second, she felt the urge to lean over and embrace the sea. The distance between a reckless thought and a physical act is usually a clear head, but right now, she had no use for logic.

With a resounding splash, she dove in.

Roman, kneeling at the edge of the stern, caught a fleeting glimpse—a shimmering silhouette diving with the grace of a mermaid. By the time he focused, she was already bobbing on the surface, her long hair fanned out like a siren’s mane. She tossed her head back, shaking the droplets from her face. Her eyes were bright, brimming with an unadulterated, wild joy.

He didn’t ask if she was okay. He simply reached out a hand.

"Again?" he asked.

"Yes!" Violette nodded vigorously.

...

By the time they hauled themselves back onto the yacht, Kaisen and Adelaide had already gorged themselves.

"Oh? Look who it is," Adelaide teased, waving a skewer. "Is this really the big brother who promised to join our barbecue? Kaisen, take a look. It’s been so long, I barely recognize him."

Kaisen, busy tinkering with a fishing rod, played along. "Oh, I suppose it is. I don't really know who he is either."

"I’m telling you, for a guy this young, these geriatric hobbies are—"

The playful bickering of the siblings served as their background music. Roman moved naturally, taking the sea urchin rice that had been kept warm and handing it to Violette. "Eat something to settle your stomach."

"Hey! Big brother! I dove down to get those myself!" Kaisen protested.

Violette tilted her head, beating them to the punch. "Thank you, Kaisen."

Kaisen went instantly sheepish, ducking his head to untangle his fishing line. "Uh… you’re welcome, sister-in-law."

He could heckle his brother all day, but with Violette, the whole family remained remarkably polite.

After a few bites, the hollow ache in Violette's stomach began to fade. The workout had been intense; after the surge of dopamine and adrenaline, she felt like she could eat an entire cow. Roman, however, remained the voice of reason. He had split the small serving of rice into three portions. She’d finish one, he’d pass her a few vegetables, then wait until she was ready for the next.

He always had a justification for everything. Today's was: "Don't rush your food after a workout."

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked him between bites.

"I'm fine," Roman replied. "I didn't exert myself as much. I'm not hungry."

Half-believing him, she reached out to poke his stomach. It was rock-hard, nothing but solid muscle beneath her touch. If she focused, she could even feel the taut, pulsing strength beneath the surface. It felt like touching something scorching. She quickly pulled her hand back, curling her fingers into a fist and rubbing them against her palm.

"I can do it myself," she said.

Roman followed suit, handing her the final portion. "I'll go get you a towel for your hair."

The sun was warm, but the sea breeze was stiff; staying out too long would lead to a headache. Violette nodded, squinting as she soaked in the air. The aft deck was spacious, large enough for a massive L-shaped sofa. From where she sat, she could watch Roman climb the wooden stairs. His gait was steady and deliberate, lacking the wild, impulsive energy they’d had on the speedboat. Violette thought that, perhaps, he could afford to loosen up a bit more.

When Roman returned, he brought not just a towel, but a set of loose workout gear.

"It's new," he said. "Change into this after you eat, then take a nap."

Violette checked the collar. It was her size. "When did you get this?"

"I thought about it when I planned to take you out to relax."

"And how long ago was that?"

Roman shot her a sideways glance. "Last June or July."

Last June? July?

She and Blake had only just broken up around then; she’d been in a terrible headspace, but—

"We weren't even close back then, were we?" she asked.

"True," Roman said, relaxing as he leaned back. "That’s why I thought about it a few times and didn't mention it."

...

Who keeps a set of clothes for a "not-so-close" friend on their private yacht? After the last time he’d let his calculated nature slip, he wasn't even pretending anymore, was he?

Violette stood up, clutching the clothes. After two steps, she stopped and glared back at him.

"Roman."

"Hmm?"

"I have a sinking feeling I've boarded a pirate ship."

The "pirate ship" drifted through the afternoon. After eating her fill, Violette dozed on the sofa under the sun. Adelaide had wandered to the bow, claiming she needed to work on her tan, leaving Roman to be dragged by Kaisen into sea fishing at the stern.

The brothers’ backs looked similar—Roman’s shoulders were broader, his posture stiffly upright. Kaisen had the slender build of a teenager, lounging casually with one leg propped up on a stool.

As Violette drifted toward sleep, she heard Kaisen complaining that the fish were getting smarter, leaving them with an empty cooler.

"Fishing is about tempering your temperament," Roman said, his voice measured. "Don't rush to reel it in when you get a bite. You have to gauge the timing, concede a little, let the fish bite deep before you strike. I've taught you this plenty of times—retreat to advance."

"Big brother, if you have so many life lessons, why don't you show me an example?"

Roman tapped his tackle box with one hand. "The example is right there."

"...I shouldn't have asked." Kaisen muttered.

Violette was nearly asleep when a shadow fell over her. She struggled to crack her eyes open and saw a silhouette against the sun. The shoulders were too broad—without looking closely, she knew it was Roman.

She let out a soft, sleepy hum.

He scooped her up, turning her away from the glare so the sun wouldn't hit her eyes. "Go sleep in the room upstairs."

Violette nodded, burying her face into his chest. The rhythmic thumping of his heart resonated against her ear—one, two, three.

"Your 'example' was meant to hook me, wasn't it?" she murmured.

Roman paused, signaling for Kaisen to keep his mouth shut with a sharp look. Violette, too drowsy to notice, continued to mumble into his chest. "Isn't that what you did to me? Throw out a line, keep quiet for a long time... you were fishing for me."

His footsteps creaked on the wooden floor with every beat.

Violette giggled. "You hid it so well. I remember telling a friend the day before that you couldn't possibly be interested in me, and the next day you asked me to marry you."

She gripped his waist tighter, taking a deep breath. "You're a master of deception, a real smooth operator."

Roman glanced at Kaisen, whose mouth was hanging open like a dropped egg. Roman offered a silent, unmistakable threat. Kaisen covered his mouth and mimed slitting his own throat. *Big brother, my lips are sealed. I’ll chop myself to pieces before I spill a word.*

Roman nodded, cresting the final two steps. He nudged the cabin door open with his shoulder and looked down at her. "I told you. It’s called retreating to advance."

He set her down and pulled the blanket over her waist, but he lingered by the window.

Looking down from the second floor, he could see the entire deck. As he expected, two heads at the stern were leaning together, gesturing wildly as they shared the "breaking news."

Well, Kaisen was as tight-lipped as ever.