Chapter 14: Facing the Other Side

The sheets were still warm when I woke, but the room was empty. No note. No sound. Just the hush of the tide and the faint scent of last night lingering in the air, accusatory and forgiving at the same time.

I sat up slowly, the ache in my chest sharper than any hangover. The sequined dress lay draped over the armchair, a single strap dangling like a question. Her clutch was gone. So were her shoes.

I checked the balcony. Nothing. The kitchen. Empty. The bar, still littered with the remains of last night’s cocktail—untouched, half-melted, forgotten. I checked with the guards. They smiled at me. She'd left just after dawn. Into the main mansion and out of sight.

I dressed in silence. The mirror didn’t help. It showed me a man who’d let something slip through his fingers. Again.

By the time I reached the main mansion, the sun was climbing into the sky and the staff were already moving like clockwork- polished shoes on granite and marble, silver trays glinting, whispers tucked behind closed doors.

I found Gonzalo in the west courtyard, leaning against a column with a cigar in one hand and a tumbler of mezcal in the other. His shirt was open at the collar, his sleeves rolled. He looked like he’d slept in his boots and liked it.

He saw me coming and grinned.

“Señor,” he said, voice thick with admiration. “I don’t know how you do it.”

I didn’t answer. Just kept walking.

He followed, falling into step beside me. “You magic man, you. She’s a real diamond, too. Probably be VIP list for a long time.”

I stopped.

Turned.

Looked him in the eye.

He meant it as a compliment. A bull session nod. A pat on the back for the champ. But it landed like a slap.

“She’s gone,” I said.

He took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled toward the fountain. “Ah. Well.” He swirled the mezcal in his glass. “I figured you’d already signed off on that.”

I frowned. “Signed off?”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “You know. The usual route. Quiet, discreet. No fuss.”

I stared at him. “Where?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Come on, boss. You know. A girl like that, only one place for her.”

I didn’t.

But I didn’t say that.

Instead, I nodded slowly, letting the silence stretch.

He studied me for a moment, then softened. “A real diamond,” he said again.

I didn’t respond. I just turned and walked back toward the house, the echo of her footsteps still fresh in my mind. And somewhere deep inside, the detective stirred. Not to chase. But to understand.