The yacht's cabin swayed softly, breathing with the rhythm of the sea.
Naiara stared at the ceiling, her wrists red from the cuffs. The air smelled of salt and metal.
The door opened, and he appeared, same walk, same voice, same eyes.
Leo.
Or so she believed.
"Do you plan to keep me tied up here forever?" she asked, her anger trembling under her voice. "I need the bathroom. I need to wash. I'm not an animal, you know?"
He didn't answer right away. Her words hit him, but it was her eyes that made him falter: fragile, human, and far too sincere.
"I'll free you," he finally said, "but I'm coming with you. No tricks, if you want this to go smoothly."
The cuffs fell with a sharp click.
Damian followed her into the small adjoining bathroom, where the dim light caught the edge of the mirror.
"Are you really staying here to watch me…?" she muttered, her voice thick with humiliation.
A smile tugged at his lips. "You'd better get used to it, Tigna. I can't let you out of my sight."
The mocking tone made her burn.
With the pride of someone who refuses to be broken, she turned her back and did what she had to do.
He looked away, but the respect he felt surprised him.
When she was done, she said quietly, "I need a shower."
"Then do it. I'll stay here. Your choice."
She hesitated, the scar, her fear, the vulnerability she hated so much.
He watched her, studying every hesitation.
For a second, a thought slipped through his control: She's beautiful.
He pushed it away, locking it deep down.
"Come on, Tigna. A shower won't scare me. We've done worse, haven't we?"
Her pride sparked. She stepped under the hot water, and steam filled the small room, hiding everything but the faint outline of her body.
He looked away again, his heart hammering like it hadn't in years.
A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, one she recognized instantly.
Maybe, she thought, this strange coldness was his way of protecting her from something she didn't yet know.
Then he moved closer, grabbed the shampoo, and said softly, "Let me help you."
His fingers ran through her hair, slow, steady, almost tender.
Naiara felt her knees weaken.
"Careful," he murmured, steadying her arm.
That's when he saw it, the scar.
A pale, cruel mark carved into her side.
His breath caught. "Who did this to you?"
She turned sharply, covering herself, her eyes wet. She didn't answer.
Something inside him cracked, a pain he didn't recognize. Not rage. Not hate.
Something dangerously close to empathy.
He said nothing. He simply removed his shirt, then his pants, until nothing but silence stood between them.
She didn't move, didn't flinch, only watched, confused.
He tilted his head slightly, the same way Leo used to. It wasn't a question, but she felt it like one.
Her chest tightened. It has to be him, she told herself. Who else could it be?
Damian stepped under the shower.
The water fell over them both, erasing boundaries. He washed her shoulders, her arms, slow, deliberate, not lustful, not cruel.
Just a man who, for once, touched without taking.
Inside his head, a voice hissed: She has to trust you. It's all part of the plan.
But another voice, deeper, whispered something else.
When he stopped, she reached out, brushing his back with her fingertips. A trembling gesture, almost accidental, that made him inhale sharply.
She rinsed the soap from his skin, tracing invisible shapes across his spine.
Silence.
Only the sound of water and two breaths entangled.
"Why are you so different?" she whispered.
He closed his eyes, letting the water drown his thoughts.
When he opened them again, the truth escaped before he could stop it.
"Maybe because I don't know who I am anymore."
She looked at him, and for the first time, saw no threat in his eyes, only confusion.
Observing those storm-colored eyes, she still felt that connection they had since day one. All the emotions, the looks, the slow gestures came back to her memory and she could do nothing but approach him and hug him. Damian stood still, confused by that gesture he would never have expected. He returned the hug from her, finding himself holding her not only with his arms but also with mind. At that moment, his brain was at war with heart. She just looked him straight in the eyes and moved a hand behind the back of his neck.
A harsh thought crossed him: "What the fuck are you doing, Damian? Get on your seet!"
So he abruptly detached himself from her and he came out of the shower, taking a towel for her too and handing it to her. He left her alone in the bathroom and left without speaking.
She dried herself quickly and went back to the cabin without getting dressed.
He was sitting on the bed with his hands intertwined behind the head. She approached him and put a hand in his hair.
He made an instinctive gesture, put a hand on hers.
"Leo" she said with a thread of voice.
He gave a sad, bitter laugh and said: "You don't know who I am Tigna, you have no idea. You don't know what I'm capable of."
She nodded then said: "You were able to make me live again. And that's enough for me."
He rested his head against her belly and with his finger brushed the skin around the scar. "Tell me what happened to you."
She replied: "It's over. Since I met you, this sign burns less."
He didn't add anything else, he began to kiss her gently along the whole scar while inside himself he kept repeating the same sentence: "You're missing Damian, you're getting lost."