Chapter 2

When I crawled into bed, my phone rang again.

This time, it was my father's underboss, Marco.

"Enzo, the jet's cleared for takeoff. Departure tomorrow at 10 AM from the private airstrip, expected arrival at Honolulu International around 4 PM local."

"Pilot's Old Sal—he's flown this route a dozen times. You're in good hands."

I replied, "Got it."

Within five minutes, Marco sent another message.

"The Don wanted me to ask—are you serious about pulling the investment? Ms. Clark's project already has over eight million sunk in. If we pull out now, the early-stage costs might—"

"Pull it."

I replied with one word.

My father's call came through immediately.

"Enzo, what's going on?"

"I was in meetings all day and didn't get a chance to ask. Why are you suddenly pulling the investment?"

Two years ago, Claire Clark's cross-border e-commerce business hit a cash flow crisis.

I'd asked my father to invest.

He didn't want to at first—said Claire wasn't reliable, that she was the type to start things with a bang and end with a whimper, not someone cut out for big business.

His rejection had her tearing up.

"Enzo, your father looks down on me. That's fine. I'll earn this investment myself and turn this company around."

She stormed off, threw herself into networking, even drank herself sick at business dinners—ended up in the ER with stomach bleeding once—just to win over investors.

I felt sorry for her. I begged my father on her behalf, over and over.

I told him she was just starting out, that he should cut her some slack since she was his daughter-in-law.

He couldn't say no to me—I'm his only son, the heir to the family empire. And he hated seeing me upset.

So he sighed and invested eight million through a shell company, on the condition that she had to show results within three years, or there'd be no more funding.

With the Moretti family backing her silently, her profits snowballed after that.

Just last month, she needed to scale up operations and asked for another thirty million.

My father said yes.

But now…

I looked up at the lonely moon outside my window. Was Claire watching the waves in Hawaii with Ryan right now, laughing over cocktails?

Whether she was living her best life or falling apart—what did it have to do with me anymore?

"Nothing major," I said. "I just don't want to invest anymore."

There was a pause on the other end.

"If you say pull it, I'll pull it."

"But son… are you hurting?"

"No," I chuckled. "I just want to clear my head in Hawaii. Just lend me the jet—I'll handle the rest."

"A jet's nothing. You want the stars, I'll have the boys bring 'em down for you."

My father sighed. "But Enzo, I'll be straight with you. I never liked that girl from the start. You insisted on marrying her, and I couldn't stop you."

"But if she's really done something to hurt you, you tell me—"

"I know."

After hanging up, I sat on the cold bed, zoning out.

Truth is, I'd been to most islands in the Pacific.

Just never Hawaii.

It's this dreamy paradise, dripping with romance, so I'd kept it untouched, never setting foot there.

I wanted to save it for the one I truly loved.

That's why we'd chosen Hawaii for our honeymoon.

But that year, Claire bailed because Ryan had surgery—a torn ACL from a pickup basketball game—and she needed to be at the hospital with him.

Seeing my disappointment, she'd cooed,

"Enzo, Ryan's parents helped me a ton back in the day—they even paid for my college tuition."

"Now their son's laid up, I can't just turn my back. I have to be there for him, at least a little. I hope you understand."

"Besides, it's just a trip to Hawaii. We can go anytime. I promise I'll make it up to you next time, okay?"

At least her attitude was decent, and she talked me off the ledge with a few sweet words.

So I agreed to wait till the second year.

But the second year, Ryan got snatched by some lowlife thugs from a rival crew during a bar fight in the wrong part of town.

She came to me teary-eyed, saying,

"Ryan's life is on the line."

"We've got a whole lifetime together—what's the difference if we go to Hawaii now or later?"

So again, it fell through.

Third year, she finally said yes.

I thought I'd finally get that couples trip with her.

Then Ryan mentioned he wanted to go.

And she ditched me.

To go with her childhood best friend.

Why even bother?

Chasing some fantasy of love, making yourself look so cheap.

See? Even without a woman, I made it to Hawaii just fine, didn't I?

The next morning, as I was heading to the family's private airstrip, Claire sent a video.

It was from their resort on the Big Island last night—she was filming the ocean view at night.

Ryan's voice rang out clearly: "Whoa! This is gorgeous! Claire, hurry, get me in the shot too…"

She laughed, "I got it, I got it. Keep it down, people are staring."

"Let 'em stare. I'm out here with my best friend—it's not a crime."

The camera wobbled, catching Ryan in a soaked tank top, walking toward her with a grin.

Then it cut off.

Then she texted: "Morning, Enzo. Sharing Hawaii's night view with you."

"This resort Ryan picked is amazing—the infinity pool overlooks the ocean. We should come back here together."

I stared at that line and laughed softly.

There won't be a next time.

At 4:10 PM, the Gulfstream touched down on the VIP tarmac at Honolulu International.

Ground staff were waiting to handle the paperwork.

Old Sal asked me, "Mr. Moretti, which resort are you staying at? I'll have a car take you."

"No need," I said politely. "I'll grab a cab. You find a place to kick back—I'll let you know when I'm heading back."

He didn't insist.

Stepping out of the terminal, the warm, humid air hit me.

Palm trees, fronds swaying, and that sweet smell of freedom in the air.

Everything was exactly as I'd imagined.

I pulled out my phone, opened maps, and searched for nearby hotels.

Just then, I heard a surprised voice behind me.

"Enzo?"

"What are you doing in Hawaii?"