The Greek summer was fading into a crisp autumn. The air in Skopelos was no longer heavy with heat, but with the scent of woodsmoke and ripening grapes. Isabella sat on the porch, rocking her newborn son, Leo. He had Jaxson's dark hair and a tiny, stubborn chin.
Jaxson was down at the harbor, fixing the engine on their small fishing boat. Isabella felt a strange prickle on the back of her neck. It was a feeling she hadn't felt since the night at the docks in Oakhaven.
She looked toward the olive grove. The silver-green leaves were fluttering in the wind. Then, she saw it.
A flash of white.
It wasn't the white of a Greek house or a linen shirt. It was the stark, clinical white of a bandage. Isabella stood up, clutching Leo tighter. She walked to the edge of the porch, her eyes scanning the trees.
"Jaxson?" she whispered, even though she knew he wasn't there.
A woman stepped out from behind an ancient olive tree. She was wearing a tattered trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat, but when she lifted her head, Isabella gasped.
It was Vanessa.
One side of her face was a map of shiny, red burn scars from the explosion at the villa. Her left eye was clouded over, milky and blind. But her right eye—the piercing blue one—was full of a terrifying, jagged sanity. She was holding a suppressed pistol, the long black barrel pointed directly at Leo.
"He looks just like him, Sarah," Vanessa said. Her voice was no longer high and sharp; it was a broken growl, the sound of vocal cords scarred by smoke. "He has the same eyes I used to dream about."
"How are you alive?" Isabella asked, her voice trembling. "The house... the explosion..."
"I crawled through the dirt, Isabella. I ate insects and drank swamp water in the jungle for two weeks until I found a road. The Boss is dead. The Syndicate is gone. I have nothing left. No money, no beauty, no life. All I have is the ghost of Jaxson Thorne."
Vanessa stepped onto the porch. She smelled like old copper and saltwater. "Where is he?"
"He's not here," Isabella lied, stepping back toward the door.
"Don't lie to me!" Vanessa screamed, the scarred skin on her face tightening. "I followed the gold. I followed the trail of 'Mark Miller' all the way from Rio to Athens. I've been watching you for three days, Isabella. I watched him kiss you. I watched him hold that brat."
Suddenly, the sound of a motorcycle roared up the dirt path. Jaxson skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. He saw Vanessa on the porch and was off the bike before it even stopped leaning.
"VANESSA! STAND DOWN!" Jaxson yelled, his hand reaching for the gun he kept tucked in his waistband.
"Too late, Jax," Vanessa said, turning the gun toward him. "If I can't have the life you stole, nobody can."Wait!" Jaxson shouted, throwing his gun into the dirt. He held up his hands. "Vanessa, look at me. You want me. You've always wanted me. Leave them out of it. Take me."
Vanessa hesitated. Her hand shook. The cloud of madness in her eye seemed to clear for a second. "You left me in the fire, Jax. You chose a bookstore girl over the woman who bled with you."
"I chose peace," Jaxson said, stepping onto the porch. He walked right up to the barrel of the gun until it was pressed against his chest, right over his heart. "If killing me settles the debt, then do it. But let them go."
Isabella was crying silently, her face pressed against Leo's soft head. "No, Jaxson, don't..."
Vanessa looked at Jaxson. She looked at the man she had loved and hated for ten years. Tears started to leak from her one good eye, tracing a path down her scarred cheek.
"You really love her that much?" Vanessa whispered.
"More than my own life," Jaxson said.
Vanessa lowered the gun. For a second, it looked like she was going to surrender. She looked tired, like a ghost that was finally ready to stop haunting.
But then, she looked at Isabella. She saw the wedding ring. She saw the beautiful, perfect life that she could never have. The madness snapped back into place.
"Then you can watch her die first," Vanessa hissed.
She swung the gun toward Isabella.
THWACK.
The sound wasn't a gunshot. It was the sound of a heavy wooden boat oar hitting the side of Vanessa's head. Maria, the maid who had been with them , had come up the back stairs. She had hit Vanessa with everything she had.
Vanessa fell off the porch, tumbling into the dirt. Jaxson didn't hesitate. He was on her in a second, pinning her down and taking the gun.
Jaxson didn't kill her. He looked at the broken, scarred woman in the dirt and felt something he never thought he'd feel for Vanessa: pity.
"It's over, Vanessa," he said, his voice low. "Go away. If I ever see you again, I won't be this kind. But today, I'm a father. And I don't want my son's first memory to be blood."
Vanessa lay in the dirt, sobbing. She was broken. She got up slowly, her white trench coat covered in Greek mud. She didn't look back. She walked down the path, disappearing into the olive trees like a bad dream fading at sunrise.
Jaxson walked back onto the porch and pulled Isabella and Leo into his arms. He was shaking.
"Is she gone?" Isabella asked.
"She's gone," Jaxson said. "For good this time. She has no one left to send after us."
They sat on the porch as the sun went down."I love you, Sarah," Jaxson said.
"I love you, Mark," Isabella replied.
They went inside and locked the door. For the first time in their lives, they didn't do it because they were afraid. They did it because they were home.
THE END.