*Xander*
By the grace of the Goddess, the first person we ran into was Oliver. It had been random–Abigail, Adrian, Sasha, and I were walking through the market square on our way to the palace with little more than the clothes on our backs.
Oliver looked shocked, his face draining of color as he stalked toward us, glancing over each shoulder to make sure no one he knew, I assumed his family, was around to see the group of us together.
If I hadn’t been carrying Sasha in my arms, Oliver would have decked me in the jaw. I knew it; he knew it. We fixed each other with glares so intense that Sasha squirmed and Abigail cleared her throat, looking exceedingly uncomfortable.
“We need to talk–”
“You’re fucking right,” Oliver ground out, fury blazing behind every single word. He tilted his head toward the edge of the market square where the golden facades of the buildings housing the resorts and restaurants faded into more commercial-type buildings, shadowed by palm trees.