Victor's tone left no room for argument, smooth and final as he took Elias's hand and led him away from the harbor. The drive back to the hotel was quiet, the silence filled with unspoken thoughts and too much awareness of what had just transpired.
Their suite sat on the top floor of a glass tower overlooking the sea, the kind of place where even the air smelled expensive. Elias kicked off his shoes the moment they stepped inside. "You know," he muttered, "if your definition of a honeymoon includes crisis management and potential divine lawsuits, I can't wait to see what you'll plan for the anniversary."
Victor was already unbuttoning his shirt, utterly unbothered. "I was thinking something quiet," he said. "A dinner. Maybe somewhere that doesn't require Poseidon's permission slip."
