"Something or someone bothered her last night," Charles spoke up, sitting back in his lounger on the yacht. He and Carlos sat next to each other, looking at their girlfriends who were seated on the sundeck, chatting and catching up. "What makes you think so?" Carlos replied, reaching for his bottle of Estrella Galicia and taking a sip of beer. "She was crying over something, but she said it wasn't important, and she didn't want to talk about it. This morning she dodged the subject," Charles followed up. "Maybe she needs some time," Carlos suggested. "She'll tell you if you give it some time," he added. "I know, but this time it feels different," Charles explained. "I think it's her father." Carlos chuckled, placing his beer bottle back on the table. "The asshole didn't become more clever over the years," Carlos commented, causing Charles to let out a breathy laugh. "Did the party give you any more clarity about your father?" The Spaniard asked, but Charles shook his head. "Nothing. Her mother kept me busy as soon as I arrived. Sara's father called her in. After that, I only spoke to useless drunk people," Charles said.
"Right, the usual," Carlos commented. "Fernando's source didn't reach out to me anymore, he told me he'd text me today, but didn't receive anything yet," Charles replied. "They probably don't want anything to do with it. I mean, the Abril name is enough to scare some people in our world, Charles. The bastard has quite some leverage on some people," he says, causing Charles to nod with a sigh. His eyebrows rose slightly as he looked over the calm sea. The yacht was gently swaying back and forth in the water. The temperatures were nice for January, but Charles preferred summer to anything. He was still dressed in a sweater and some jeans while seated on the yacht. He looked back at his partner, and he saw the corners of his mouth slowly going up as his soon-to-be wife appeared on the stairs, walking down to them seated at the table. Charles glanced at Isa's hand, the ring Carlos was talking about wasn't visible yet, showing that he hadn't popped the question yet. Sara showed up too, a small smile on her face as she made her way over to Charles. They put their empty wine glasses on the table, causing Carlos to raise an eyebrow when he looked up at his girlfriend.
"Yes, I know, we normally have staff for that, but now you have to do it yourself, ms," Carlos said, meaning if she wanted a refill. He poked her side, causing Isa to laugh. "If you get some wine, I'll get some snacks," Isa said, kissing his cheek when she leaned over. Sara chuckled at the pair, moving to sit in Charles' lap. His arm automatically curled around her, patting her hip when she sat down and swung her arm around his neck. "You look pretty, my love," Charles muttered as he pecked her lips. "Thank you, mi vida," Sara replied, her hand briefly moving through his hair. Charles meant it, her face was free of any makeup, her hair was loose down her shoulders. Her freckles were visible, and her features just looked beautiful to him. Isa soon returned with a plate of snacks and some chips in a bowl, Carlos following her with two glasses of wine and two more beers. Sara took one of the glasses of wine, taking a sip from it before putting it down on the table. Charles' fingers drew soft circles on her thigh, keeping her to his chest as they resumed the conversation about the event the two men would attend. It would be in Milan, and the girls would join too, but only to go shopping.
Sara reached for a piece of melon, ignoring Charles' eyes on her. He had been watching her ever since last night and this morning, but she decided not to pay attention to it. Not while she still didn't have her mind straight. It had taken her everything to not tell Isa about it, because she knew she would discuss it with Carlos and then Charles would know everything about the situation with her father too. It was too risky, especially now she wasn't sure who else besides her father's crew and Charles' father and his crew were involved. Letting it rest seemed to be a good thing for now. Her father wouldn't be out for Charles as long as Charles wasn't looking for evidence that Matteo Abril killed Hervé Leclerc. "Sara?" Sara looked up again, a sheepish smile on her face. "Sorry, I zoned out for a second," she let out a breathy laugh. "She was already picking her next designer bag in her imaginations," Carlos teased, pushing Charles' shoulder, who chuckled too. "Whatever makes her happy," Charles replied, and Sara smiled, squeezing his shoulder softly. "I was saying that we could book a spa appointment there, I know a very good salon," Isa said, making her nod.
"Sure, book us in and guide the way," Sara replied, making Isa reach for her phone right away to make it happen. "Everything okay?" Charles softly asked as he kissed her cheek. "Just tired and slightly hungover," she replied. "We'll have a good dinner tonight and get to bed early, alright?" Charles replied, making her nod. Charles and Carlos exchanged a brief glance, remembering what they talked about before, but no one brought it up.
The short time spent in Mallorca had been nice, and Charles and Sara returned to Monte Carlo the day after. They got back in the early afternoon, and there was some tea and cake ready for them in the kitchen. Charles rather had a cup of coffee, but Sara gladly took a cup of tea. Their luggage was brought upstairs right away. Lando and Dennis had taken their posts as the guards of the afternoon shift. She knew Charles had a meeting later today, but it would be online because of the distance between him and his partner. Sara hadn't heard much about it, but again, Charles didn't involve her in a lot of work-related things. Charles leaned back in his seat, dressed well as always on working days, a smooth, white button-up and slacks, this time a Rolex shining around his wrist. Sara looked at his hands that were wrapped around the cup of coffee while he read the newspaper of the past two days. "Do you really have to get back to work?" Sara asked, as he lifted his eyes from the paper to look at her. "I do, princess," he replied, sliding his piece of cake her way, and she took a bite of it right away. "Hmm, okay," Sara replied. "You can ask Lando or Dennis if you want to go somewhere," he said.
"Nowhere special," she shrugged. It was clear to both of them that she was out of her usual rhythm, but Sara was glad Charles hadn't started about it again. At this moment, she was ready to spill everything to him, but the painful thought of her father killing him with his bare hands kept her lips sealed about everything. "I think I want to go for a walk," she said, standing up. "Of course, baby," Charles replied, eyeing her from his position, giving her a small smile as she leaned down to kiss his lips. "I'll get changed," she said. "Dress warm, it's cold outside," he muttered, making her nod again with a smile. Charles watched her move into the hallway and step onto the marble stairs to make her way to their room. He rose his eyebrows, thinking if it was something in their relationship, if something did happen at the party of her parents, if he had said anything that bothered her. But she was usually mouthy enough, so, he would have heard it if that was the case. Charles put his newspaper down, and he got up from his seat too, moving into his office. He sat down behind his desk, opening his laptop. It was equipped with a program that would allow meetings that were untraceable.
His partner was already in the meeting, which made Charles up the volume to make sure both of them would be audible. "I'm going to make it quick, Leclerc. I'm not sure how much time I have," Jenson Button sounded in a rush. "Shoot," Charles replied. "It looks like Alonso's partner vanished from earth yesterday, after he was supposed to meet you," Jenson said. "Meet me? He never texted me," he said. "He must have not gotten the chance to do so, then. His apartment was empty, his phone was left in his office. I saved some info from his laptop, I will send it to you. It looks like the killer is very busy to leave no traces. He goes after everyone involved with the murder of your father, even after 20 years. You opened up a lot of cases with your curiosity, Charles," Jenson sighed, rapid typing audible next. "You have the files now. I will end this meeting here, and you have never heard of my existence till this is all over. Charles didn't even get the chance to reply before the screen turned black, causing him to chuckle. He was about to open the files of his mail, when he looked up and over the screen of his laptop. The door of his office wasn't closed properly, and he caught a glimpse of Sara.
Not much later, the door of his office was pulled close by Dennis, who stood next to his door before he went in. The front door sounded next, and he got up to look out of the windows of his office. Sara got in the car with Lando, he wasn't sure where they were going, but the two always seemed to have fun. Charles didn't want to question it, but she never eavesdrops on his meetings or phone calls. He didn't want to be suspicious, either, but his stomach started to twist and turn at the mere thought that Sara was involved with all of it. Charles rubbed his temple, he was probably imagining all of these things because he didn't get any further with the case of his father, which frustrated him immensely.
A couple of weeks had passed since the party of Sara's parents. The tension only seemed to have risen between the two of them. Charles had taken her out for dinner twice, but the laughter and teasing between them was fake, he could sense it. Sara was trying her best to figure it out, and he noticed that whenever he said something about going out for work, it made her tense up and ask him when he would get home, and that he promised her to get home safely. Charles got back from a deal in the harbor late that night, and Sara already went to bed. Dennis had driven him back to the mansion, and he had mindlessly scrolled through his texts, replying to some unanswered ones. There was one conversation deleted, and he hadn't seen it before. He frowned at the text message from the unknown number. He looked at the date, seeing it was the day after the party in Ibiza. Charles couldn't remember deleting it on his own. Maybe it was sent to spam and it automatically deleted. He had a weird feeling about it. Dennis halted the car in front of the door, and they both got out. It was quiet in the house when they entered. Charles had a quick bite in the kitchen before going upstairs.
He took a deep breath before pushing the handle of the door down, entering the bedroom. A small light on Sara's nightstand was still on, and she looked up from her book when he came in. "Hey, you're back," she smiled, closing her book. He nodded silently, moving to sit on the bed next to her. She reached for him, but she frowned when he barely kissed her back, his touch on her waist gently pushing her back. "Are you okay?" Sara asked. "I'm fine," Charles replied. "Baby... I have to ask," he said. "Do you know something that I should know too? Ever since the party of your parents you're acting strange," he added, watching her face fall slightly. "Please, tell me," Charles said. "I can't tell you, Charles," her voice was a mere whisper. "Did you go through my phone and delete messages from a potential source that could lead me to the murderer of my father?"
His question was sharp, his eyes piercing through hers. "I can't," she repeated, her eyes filling with tears. "Why can't you?" Charles asked. "Because he'll kill you," she said. "Who?" He continued. "Come on, Sara. If you got yourself in this mess, I'm probably the only one who can clean it up for you," he added, the sneer hurting her clearly. "My father," she spoke. Charles got up as he put two and two together, running his hand through his hair in frustrated way. "He told you at the party, right? You knew this over a month? And you didn't tell me?" His voice rose in volume, with anger. "Please, keep your voice down," Sara said, getting up too, attempting to calm him down. "I couldn't tell you, because he said that he'd kill you. Dennis is obliged to tell him if I'd talk to you about it," Sara said, tears streaming down his face. "Please, I'm sorry. My father killed your father, and if you continue to point your finger to him, he'll make sure you end up dead," her voice struggled, her hands grabbing onto his jacket.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me, Sara. It nearly looked like you were siding with him," he said, pushing her hands away. "I need to get some air," he muttered. Sara watched him walk out of the room, the door falling in its lock behind him.