Chapter 217

~ Octavia ~

The morning sun was golden over Santorini, and Franklin was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching me sleep.

"Good morning, Mrs. Flemington," he said softly when I opened my eyes.

"Hi," I mumbled, still half asleep.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips, slow, deliberate kisses that made my heart skip. "I was thinking, today we should explore. See the town, get some Greek food, walk the cliffs. What do you think? But nothing too strenuous. I don’t want you exhausted."

"I think that sounds perfect," I said, stretching.

"But first, you eat," he said, already moving out of bed. "The baby needs breakfast. And so do you. Non-negotiable."

Within minutes, he’d arranged for breakfast to be brought to our suite. He sat beside me on the terrace, watching me eat with this expression of pure contentment on his face. When I reached for the orange juice, he was already there, handing it to me before I could fully extend my hand. When I dropped my napkin, he picked it up and replaced it before I could even acknowledge it was gone.

"Let me," he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world to anticipate my every need.

As we walked through the narrow streets of Oia, he held my hand constantly. Not in a possessive way, but in a protective one. When the path got steep, he’d slow down, asking if I was okay. When the sun got too hot, he’d move me to the shaded side of the street without me having to say anything.

"Are you happy?" he asked, stopping in the middle of a narrow alley to look at me. "Tell me honestly."

"Very happy," I said, squeezing his hand.

"Good," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his thumb brushing my cheek. "Because I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you stay that way. You and our baby. That’s my only job now."

It was those little moments, the way he said things like he meant them completely. The way his eyes never left mine when he spoke. The way he touched me like I was precious. Like I was everything.

We were at the edge of the caldera, watching the sunset paint the sky in impossible colors, when we met them.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" a man said. He was tall, with warm brown eyes and a smile. Beside him was a woman with stunning dark eyes and long black hair, clearly Indian, with that effortless grace some women just had.

"It really is," Franklin said, extending his hand. "I’m Franklin, and this is my wife, Octavia."

"Eric," the man said, shaking his hand. "And this is my wife, Ayeesha."

Ayeesha smiled warmly at us. "First time in Greece?"

"Honeymoon," I said, and she lit up immediately.

"Oh, how wonderful! Come, you must explore with us. We know some beautiful places the tourists don’t usually find."

So we did. We spent the afternoon with Eric and Ayeesha, wandering through hidden gardens and small tavernas tucked away from the main crowds. Ayeesha and I bonded over instantly.

"You’re glowing," Ayeesha said, studying me. "Franklin must be taking very good care of you."

I looked at Franklin, who was laughing with Eric nearby, and I smiled. "He really is."

But as the afternoon wore on, I started to feel it, that prickle on the back of my neck. The sense of being watched. My eyes kept scanning the crowd, looking for something, someone. Nothing seemed out of place, but the feeling persisted.

When we sat down for dinner with Eric and Ayeesha, I couldn’t quite relax. I kept looking over my shoulder, kept feeling like someone’s eyes were on me.

"Octavia?" Franklin leaned over and whispered. "Are you okay? You seem tense."

"I..." I hesitated. It sounded paranoid to say out loud. "I feel like someone’s watching us."

His hand found mine under the table. "No one’s watching us. We’re safe. You’re safe. I promise."

He said it with such certainty that I wanted to believe him. I tried to relax, to focus on the dinner and the conversation. But that feeling never quite went away.

Later, as we were leaving the restaurant, Ayeesha pulled me aside, her expression concerned.

"Something strange happened," she said quietly. "A man gave me this. He said it was important. He said I should give it to you, but not to tell Franklin."

I looked at her, confused. "A man? What did he look like?"

"I don’t know... he had a hood on. Sunglasses. I couldn’t really see his face clearly. He just handed me this paper and said, ’Give this to Mrs. Flemington.’" She held out the folded paper, her eyes worried. "Octavia, this is weird, right? Should I have told him no?"

My heart started beating faster. "No, you did the right thing. Did he say anything else?"

"Just that it was important," Ayeesha said. "Is everything okay? Do you know who that might be?"

"I... I’m not sure," I said, which was the truth. Who would give a note to a stranger to pass to me? Who even knew I was here? Who would go through all that trouble?

My hands were shaking as I opened the paper.

The message was short. Just a few words.

"Enjoy it while it lasts."

My blood ran cold.

I looked up at Ayeesha, then back at the message. My mind was racing. A man. A hooded man. Someone here. Someone who knew where I was. Someone who was watching.

But who?

Not Dorian or Anthony. Not Bella. Bella was supposed to be dead. The body had been identified. I’d seen the news myself.

So who?

My mind spiraled through possibilities. Was it someone from Dorian’s operation? Someone who hadn’t been caught? Someone who wanted revenge for what happened?

Or was it a complete stranger? Someone hired by someone else?

I looked at Ayeesha, forcing a smile even though my entire body was trembling. "Thank you for giving this to me. And thank you for... for being honest about it."

"Are you sure you’re okay?" she asked, concern crossing her face. "You’re pale."

"Fine," I lied, slipping the paper into my bag with shaking hands. "Just fine. Please don’t tell Franklin about it."

Before she could talk, Franklin appeared beside us, placing a protective hand on the small of my back. "Ready to head back? You look tired."

I nodded, unable to find my voice. As we walked back toward the hotel, I couldn’t stop thinking about that message. About the hooded man. About the fact that someone had tracked me down on a Greek island during my honeymoon.

Franklin kept talking. But I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about who could possibly want to hurt me now. The court case was over. Dorian was in prison. Kieran was in prison. Anthony was in prison.

So who?

When we got back to our suite, Franklin wrapped his arms around me from behind as I stood at the window, looking out at the dark sea.

"What’s wrong?" he asked softly. "And don’t say nothing, because I can feel you shaking."

I almost told him. I opened my mouth to tell him about the message, about the hooded man, about the feeling of being hunted.

But something stopped me.

If I told him, he’d want to leave. He’d want to go home. And I didn’t want our honeymoon to end like this. I didn’t want fear to win.

"I’m just tired," I said, leaning back into his chest. "And maybe a little overwhelmed with everything. The wedding, the pregnancy, being here... it’s all catching up with me."

"Okay," he said, kissing the top of my head. "Let’s get you to bed. No more sightseeing tomorrow. We’ll stay in the suite, relax by the pool, and you can rest."

I nodded, grateful for his understanding, even though I couldn’t tell him the real reason I wanted to stay hidden.

As he held me, as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep, I stared into the darkness and tried to figure out who wanted me to know that someone was watching.

And more importantly, what they planned to do next.