The ties that bind

Epilogue

Then, softly—"I just wanted to see you."

And that?

That was the real problem.

Because Serena knew he was telling the truth.

And that made it so much worse.

Serena did not invite him anywhere.

She did not ask him to come along.

But somehow, she still ended up sitting across from Santiago in a café near her apartment, glaring at him over her coffee.

"I feel ambushed," she muttered.

Santiago smirked. "Good."

Serena took a slow sip, watching him.

Santiago was always unreadable. A smirk here, a lazy comment there—but beneath it, he was a strategist.

He didn't just show up for no reason.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked.

Santiago raised an eyebrow. "Plan?"

"Don't play dumb," Serena shot back. "Are you staying in a hotel? Did you come here for some business deal? Or is this just you being a reckless idiot again?"

Santiago chuckled. "Why do you sound so stressed, Tormenta? Afraid I'll cause trouble?"

Serena exhaled sharply.

That was the thing—he was trouble.

But not in the way people assumed.

Not in the way that meant bloodshed and broken rules.

Santiago was trouble because he made her feel things she wasn't ready to deal with.

And now, here he was. Sitting in her city. Drinking coffee like this wasn't the single worst idea in history.

Serena scowled. "I still don't understand why you're here."

Santiago set down his coffee.

And then—he smiled.

Not smirked.

Smiled.

And suddenly, Serena's chest felt too tight.

"Because I wanted to be," he said simply.

Serena's fingers tightened around her mug.

Because, yeah.

That was the problem.

Serena refused to call this a date.

It was not a date.

Because dates were planned. Dates were romantic. Dates didn't start with a man showing up in your city unannounced like some smug, overly confident bastard.

And yet, here she was.

Walking beside Santiago down the cobblestone streets of the city, the cool ocean breeze tugging at her hair, the scent of salt and espresso lingering in the air.

"Still not going to tell me where we're going?" she asked.

Santiago smirked. "You'll see."

Serena huffed. "You are dangerously close to getting pushed into the ocean."

"Admit it," Santiago teased, his hands in his pockets, looking entirely too at ease. "You're having fun already."

Serena turned her head, narrowed her eyes, and deadpanned, "I would rather be hit by a bus."