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Croatia
     
    The cool water embraced Priya’s skin, salt itching the wounds that hadn’t yet healed. It was warm enough to swim without a wetsuit but the cold compressed air made her throat feel dry with every breath she took. The sound of her respirator and rising bubbles were the only things disturbing her tranquility.
    Fish surrounded her like a swarm. With a flick of her fins, she porpoised through them. The scooter pulling her sent air bubbles to tingle against her cheeks. She felt like she was flying, free as a bird.
    It reminded her of when she used to go snorkeling as a kid on the Indian Pacific coast, looking for mussels and pearls. Yet, so much had changed.
    Priya lifted her head and returned to the surface. A net of stirring waves glittered through the sunlight. Above, the White Star waited for her at anchor. As she surfaced, the sound of seabirds and waves clapping against the boat’s prow filled her ears. Its glare was blinding gold, just like anything that her lover, Usman Salim, touched.
    Priya gripped the ladder and pulled herself up. She felt the weight of the compressed air tanks on her back. She hoisted up the dead weight of the scooter with a grunt of effort and stowed it beneath the seats.
    Priya left everything else behind and went up the stairs in her bikini.
    She found Usman Salim on the sundeck, his dark skin glistening with lotion and pearls of sweat. He leaned back with his Bermuda-clad legs propped up on the table. Priya wasn’t even sure he noticed her through his round shades. She moved to stand right in front of him, hands on her hips. The expression on his face contradicted his body language as his eyes sunk into the screen of his tablet.
    “You know the only thing separating you from Dan Bilzerian, are his packs,” Priya said.
    “He’s got the packs. I got the billions and more guns,” Salim said without looking up. “I guess he’s making a decent living playing poker, but what do you expect? Look around you. Do you like what you see? Do you enjoy the view?” He didn’t need to wait for an answer.
    They were anchored near the ancient port town of Dubrovnik: A white-walled city that amassed a fortune through centuries of trade. Its advantageous position in the Mediterranean made it all possible.
    “I like what I see,” she said, “even though I have to keep it a secret.”
    “It’s us against the world,” Salim said.
    She felt alone this far away from her home. It made her snuggle in her warm towel and glance at the shore. Everything was strange in this culture, cold and moving fast. The only ones who took care of her were her boss, Rose, who was like a mother and Salim, who was … well, not a father ...but the man who met all of her needs.
    She knew as long as she stayed with him, she would have a life that she could have never imagined.
    She worried about how long it could last. Even though they both fought to hold onto each other, their cultures forbid it. For a Pakistani of his status, it would be a disgrace to marry an Indian woman. For Priya it was unthinkable to go against the town elders’ choice of a husband now that her parents were gone.
    The two of them together would be unthinkable in their home countries. Being abroad made their union possible and delayed the problems waiting at home.
    “Apparently my net worth is thirty billion and set to rise,” Salim said, finally taking his eyes of his tablet. “Some journalist reckons that given rising tensions in the world and increases in military spending I should be making a killing?” Then his face went serious. “How much do you think you are worth?”
    She looked down and didn’t know what to say. The proportions of money were unreal.
    “I really don’t know how to answer that.”
    “Just a wild estimation,” Salim said.
    Priya frowned.
    “Why do you ask?”
    Salim put down the tablet, took both of her hands and held them, looking into her eyes.
    “I want to see your self-worth,” he said. “To be