CHAPTER 162: THREE DAYS, NO REGRETS

The morning sun spilled lazily through the windows, washing the room in warm light. Standing in front of the mirror, Ephyra held up two dresses, one in each hand, her brow furrowed like she was solving a world crisis and not just choosing which to wear between two summer outfits.

Standing in a bathing robe, her red hair, styled into long soft curls, framed her shoulders and cascaded down her back like she’d just stepped out of a summer commercial.

"I mean, it’s just three days," she muttered. "But also... It’s three days."

Behind her, Jania leaned against the dresser’s edge, arms crossed and a grin playing on her lips. She was dressed casually, tablet in hand, and entertained.

"If you don’t pick an outfit soon, we’re going to miss the first tourist—I mean, historical landmark."

Ephyra gave her a sideways look. "We’re not starting with Times Square, are we?"

"Oh, heavens no," Jania scoffed. "I’m not that basic. First stop is the Met Cloisters. Way uptown. It’s like medieval Europe got lost and landed in New York. Think stone walls, tapestries, old gardens, and enough holy relics to spark an exorcism."

She paused for dramatic effect, then added, "Also, the pigeons there? Very judgmental. Don’t wear anything that screams ’tourist.’"

Ephyra let out a soft laugh and turned back to the mirror. In one hand, she held a dark red tank and white maxi skirt paired with red floral sandals and earth-toned accessories. The other outfit was softer—a pink ribbed strapless wrap top and a tiered white skirt, with delicate gold jewelry and a flower clip that made her look like a walking plumeria dream.

"I like the red one," Fira said, glancing down at it. "Feels a bit more... grounded?"

"It says: ’I came to glow and conquer.’ The pink one says: ’I came to sip mocktails and smell expensive hotel soaps.’ Honestly, it’s a win either way."

Ephyra laughed again, but this time it held something else—a little ache buried under the lightness. She looked at both outfits again, then at her reflection. "I just... want this to feel real."

Jania’s expression softened as she stepped closer. "It is real, Ephyra. Three days. Just you, the sun, a suspicious amount of historical trivia, and my boss who would probably forget everything else around him if you smiled at him long enough."

Ephyra rolled her eyes but the smile lingered.

"Alright," she said, finally laying the pink outfit on the bed and holding up the red one. "Let’s conquer."

Jania clapped once. "That’s the spirit. So—after the Cloisters, we’ve got reservations at the hotel spa. Full-body massage, facials, and some overpriced cucumber water. Then dinner at that weird rooftop place that used to be a church. The risotto there changes lives."

"And on day two?"

"Boat ride around the Statue of Liberty. Holai’s idea, not mine. Then we’re hitting up Little Island—you know, that weird floating park thing? Great views. Terrible wi-fi."

Ephyra nodded slowly, a soft light in her eyes. "Sounds like a good way to forget the world."

Jania raised a brow. "It’s not about forgetting. It’s about giving yourself something to remember."

Fira met her gaze in the mirror and smiled—smaller this time, but real.

"I’ll be ready in fifteen."

———

After Ephyra finished dressing, she grabbed the straw tote bag from the armchair and slung it over her shoulder. Her sandals tapped softly against the hardwood as she made her way to the door. But the moment she opened it, she let out a surprised sound and stepped back slightly.

Lyle was leaning casually against the wall beside the door.

"Oh—you... I mean, Lyle. What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to wait downstairs?"

"I came to check if you were ready," he replied smoothly. "And since you are... shall we?" He straightened from the wall and pulled one hand from his pocket, extending it to her.

Ephyra looked down at his outstretched hand, then instinctively tightened her grip on the tote bag. "There’s no need. Let’s just go," she said, brushing past him with two small steps.

But before she could get far, her hand was caught gently yet firmly. She looked back in surprise. Lyle didn’t say anything. He just took her hand into his much larger one and walked forward, quietly pulling her along.

Momentarily stunned, Ephyra looked up at his back. He wore a simple black ensemble—short-sleeve polo, tailored trousers, and polished loafers. No jewelry, no flashy extras. Just a black watch that probably cost more than a penthouse.

She wanted to say something. Maybe about the hand-holding. Maybe about how her heart was doing weird somersaults. But in the end, she said nothing. She just let herself be led.

Unbeknownst to her, Lyle’s lips curved up in a small, almost imperceptible smile as he guided her down the stairs and out of the mansion.

The snowy season was well on its way out, and today’s weather promised bright skies and gentle winds—the kind of warmth that felt like summer time. It was Thursday morning. With Friday and the weekend ahead, this would be a much-needed three-day escape.

Outside, two Elevated Range Rover Luxury SUVs stood in the driveway, glistening under the rising sun.

Among the two, one was theirs. The other would carry their security team.

Lyle had insisted on a heavy security detail, not willing to take any chances. Even though Ephyra thought it was overkill, she didn’t argue. She wanted this trip to go smoothly—no threats, no drama.

So she just sighed and flexed her fingers subtly, trying to pull her hand away. But Lyle only held on tighter.

She let it go.

Five men would be riding in the second car, along with the driver and one of her personal bodyguards. Seven total. Jania, meanwhile, wasn’t coming along—she had to stay back and manage things at the mansion and oversee operations in Lyle’s absence. At that moment, she was at the side of the courtyard, briefing him on a few miscellaneous matters.

While Lyle listened, Ephyra pulled out her phone and tapped into the group chat with Malia, Cyran, and Orla.

She typed:

"Setting out now for my mini-vacation. I’ll send pics later. Don’t miss me too much—I plan to enjoy myself to the fullest ✌️😌"

It didn’t take long for Malia to respond with an eye-pouting emoji:

"You’re such a bad friend 😤 You didn’t even tell us until last night! If we hadn’t asked, we wouldn’t even know you were going!"

Ephyra chuckled and replied:

"It was supposed to be a secret 😏 But I’m weak against your manipulation. Be grateful, not whiny."

Orla sent a rolling-eyes emoji and added:

"Just enjoy it and stay safe. You deserve it."

Cyran followed up with:

"Send photos. All the photos. Don’t mind Malia’s drama. Enjoy and stay safe."

Just then, Lyle called her name.

"Hm?" she looked up.

His voice softened slightly. "Everything’s ready. Let’s go."

She tucked her phone back into the tote and nodded with a small smile. "Lead the way."

Lyle walked ahead and opened the car door for her. She gave him a gentle "Thank you" and climbed in.

He circled to the other side and got in, and within moments, the rest of the entourage followed. The two SUVs started up and rolled smoothly down the driveway, exiting the mansion.

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, another car followed—silent, unmarked. One of the covert security tails Lyle had arranged, trailing a comfortable distance behind.

——

Ephyra leaned back into the plush leather seat, pulling out the tablet Jania had handed her earlier. She flicked it on and opened the itinerary.

Their first destination: The Met Cloisters.

Perched high on the cliffs of Fort Tryon Park, the Cloisters looked like a medieval sanctuary dropped right into Manhattan. Ephyra swiped through photos and descriptions—stone courtyards, ancient archways, cloistered gardens, and stained-glass filtered light that could make even the coldest cynic pause.

The museum, Jania’s notes said, had been constructed from five different French monasteries, their fragments shipped across the Atlantic and rebuilt here in the 1930s. It housed over 5,000 pieces of art from the 12th to 15th centuries, including the famous Unicorn Tapestries and rare illuminated manuscripts.

Ephyra paused on a photo of the Fuentidueña Chapel. The golden afternoon light cast through its apse gave the stone an otherworldly warmth. She could almost feel the silence that must hang in the space.

God, she wanted to be there already.

She sighed.

In her past life, vacation meant new assignments. Beach hotels were just convenient cover for assassinations. She didn’t do relaxation. She didn’t do getaways.

But this time... this time was different.

Now she has a weekend. She had sunshine, a partner she wanted to enjoy it all with. And maybe—just maybe—she could pretend the world outside didn’t exist.

For three days.

No regrets.

-:-:-:-

{Author’s Note: A Heartfelt Apology

To my dearest readers,

First and foremost—thank you. Truly. To those of you who have stuck with this story from the beginning until now, your patience and love mean the world to me. I know I’ve lost quite a few readers along the way—especially my privileged readers—and honestly, there’s no one else to blame but myself. I didn’t update as I should have. I made promises I didn’t deliver on. And for that, I’m deeply sorry.

To those who reached out, who messaged me asking for updates, and who waited despite the silence—I see you. I’m sorry for replying late or barely at all, and for only dropping a couple of Chapters here and there despite your support.

So here’s what I want to say: I’m back. I’m picking this story up again.

This first Chapter you’re about to read was tough to write. I’ve forgotten so many of the finer plot details while juggling new storylines and ideas. But slowly, I’m piecing everything back together. I’m doing my best to revisit the world I created and fix a few inconsistencies—especially around Alexander’s death, the funeral, and the Cava family’s firstborn. Yes, I noticed those plot holes too. And yes, I’m working on weaving everything back together in a way that makes sense.

I’ll try to write at least three Chapters, but no promises—one step at a time. What I can promise is that I haven’t abandoned this story. Not even close. And especially not now, when it’s been translated into three different languages (!), and people from all over are telling me to keep going.

I hear you. I see your comments. I feel your love.

And I love you right back.

Thank you,

With all my heart,

[Ella_Estrella]