The moment I stepped inside the barracks, the smell hit me like a wall. Thick, sour, sweaty—like metal, old food, and too many bodies packed together. My face twisted before I could stop it, and instinctively I shuffled closer to Car, almost hiding against her side.

  "My god... it reeks," she muttered.

  I nodded quickly. Reeks didn't even begin to cover it. The air burned a little when I breathed, sharp enough to sting my eyes.

  I gnced around, trying to distract myself. Rows of bunk beds lined the room, bnkets half-tossed, boots scattered underneath. A small kitchen sat off to the side, clearly well-used, and a staircase led up to the next floor. Soldiers lounged around in different states of rest—some stretched out, some sitting, some just staring off like their bodies were on break but their minds never were.

  I took another breath by accident and immediately regretted it, coughing slightly as the smell settled deeper into my lungs.

  "On second thought..." I said, forcing a ugh as I grabbed Car's hand, "I don't think I really care that much."

  She smirked as I practically dragged her back outside, fresh air never feeling so good.

  "Yeah... I probably should've warned you," Car said as we continued walking the perimeter of the compound. "That smell is unreal. I avoid that building for a reason."

  A breeze cut through us, cold enough to make me hug myself a little. October up in the mountains wasn't pying around—the air was thin, sharp, and carried the scent of pine and damp earth.

  I hesitated for a second, then spoke anyway. "Did your mom ever... you know... deal with people like that billionaire dy? The one with the isnd."

  Car snorted softly and nodded. "Yeah. People like her crossed paths with my family more than once. Rich, powerful types always think they're untouchable."

  She shrugged, her tone ft, almost bored. "My mother didn't care who someone was or what they did. Business was business. If she knew someone was dirty, she didn't lose sleep over it."

  That answer sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the wind. Car noticed and gently bumped her shoulder against mine.

  "Hey," she said more softly, "that world is behind me. You don't have to carry it."

  I nodded, breathing in the cold mountain air, letting it settle in my lungs, steadying me. Whatever shadows lived in her past—or her family's—I wasn't standing in them right now. I was here, under open sky, surrounded by quiet, next to someone who made me feel protected in a way I'd never felt before.

  "It feels weird," I admitted softly, fingers curling around Car's arm as we headed toward the side entrance of the mansion—the one that opened out to the pool. "Having a billionaire as a girlfriend. It's... overwhelming."

  Car let out a low hum, almost amused, as the pool came into view—wide, pristine, the water glowing blue against the stone. "Yeah," she said casually. "Knowing you technically never have to work another day in your life if you don't want to... it messes with your head."

  I nodded, my gaze drifting over the water. It looked calm. Too calm.

  "Do you know how to swim?" she asked.

  My body reacted before my mind did—I took a step back instinctively, my heart jumping into my throat. Every time someone asked me that, it ended the same way.

  I shook my head quickly. "No. Please—please don't push me, Car." The words came out rushed, almost panicked, as I stayed a safe distance away from the edge.

  She froze. Her expression shifted instantly, all teasing gone, repced with concern. Car turned fully toward me and cupped my face, forcing me to look at her.

  "Hey. Hey," she said gently. "I would never do that. Never." Her thumbs brushed my cheeks, grounding. "I promise you, Miguel."

  I swallowed hard, my chest tight, then nodded slowly. I chose to believe her.

  "I'm sorry if I'm being weird," I said quietly, my voice tightening despite myself. "It's just... someone asked me that once before. If I could swim." I swallowed, the memory crawling back in sharp fragments. "They pushed me in. I almost drowned."

  I looked down, fingers flexing uselessly at my sides. "I don't like pools because of that."

  For a split second Car just stared at me, shock flickering across her face. Then her expression softened completely, guilt and anger mixing together in her eyes—not at me, but at whoever had done that.

  "Wow..." she said under her breath. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Miguel." Her hand slid to my back, firm and warm, grounding me. "No one should ever do that to you."

  She didn't ask questions. Didn't push. Didn't make a joke. Instead, she gently guided me away from the pool, her body naturally positioning itself between me and the water.

  "Come on," she said softly, already opening the gss door. "Let's go watch a movie instead."

  The cool air of the mansion wrapped around us as we stepped inside, the tension in my chest easing just a little. The door slid shut behind us, cutting off the pool, the memories, the fear—leaving only quiet, warmth, and her steady presence beside me.

  Slowly but surely, she guided me down to the underground level of the house—the bottom floor. Four floors in total, if you counted this one. Down here there was a theater, an emergency room, a game room, and one extra room that sat completely empty, like it was waiting for something that never arrived.

  We descended the stairs, the wood thumping dully beneath our feet. The air changed with every step—thick, stale, smelling faintly like old people and time that had settled too long in one pce.

  Car pushed open the door to the theater, and the scent shifted immediately. Clean. Sharp. Chemical, like disinfectant and fresh polish. It was almost comforting.

  We sank into the seats, and I blinked when they began to move, unfolding and stretching until they turned into full beds beneath us.

  "Crazy, right?" she said.

  I let out a small ugh as I sank back, the seat cradling me perfectly. The bed-seat hybrid was unreal—soft in a way that made my body forget it had ever known tension, like floating just above the ground. I instinctively curled closer to Car, resting against her side while she scrolled through the menu. The screen kept going. And going. Every movie imaginable, stacked endlessly.

  "How the hell did you get all of that?" I asked, watching the titles blur past.

  "Pirating," she said casually. "I know I'm wealthy and all, but pirating is still the best." She smirked. "So—what are you in the mood for?"

  "Maybe... actually—" I hesitated, then looked up at her. "You pick."

  She hummed, eyes fixed on the screen, thumb slowing as she browsed. Then she perked up. "Oh—how about the cinematic masterpiece that is Toy Story 3?"

  I ughed, nodding immediately. The idea of a drug queenpin's comfort movie being Toy Story felt absurd in the best way, like one of those details that made her feel unexpectedly human.

  I melted into her warmth, her arms settling around me like they'd always known where I fit. The low glow of the screen washed over us, soft colors flickering across the walls, the sound of the movie filling the quiet space. For once, my body wasn't braced for anything—no tension, no waiting for the other shoe to drop. Just this. Just her. With Car, it felt like nothing could reach me, like I was finally exactly where I was supposed to be.

  I tilted my head up, studying her face as she watched the movie, calm and intent, the tough edges of her life nowhere to be seen in this moment. On impulse, I leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. She didn't move, just tightened her hold slightly, and I settled back against her chest, eyes returning to the screen.

  As the story pyed on, warm and bittersweet, a thought surfaced quietly in the back of my mind—soft, almost afraid to be spoken.

  Did I get the good ending?