เข้าสู่ระบบThe shrill ring of my phone shattered the quiet haze of sleep, pulling me from the depths like a hook in my chest. I groaned, rolling over, my hand fumbling blindly on the nightstand. The room was still dim, pre-dawn light filtering through the open windows in weak, silvery slants. The sheets beside me were cool,empty. But my mind was still tangled in her: the curve of her hip under my palm, the way she'd gasped my name, no, not my name. We'd never exchanged those. Just bodies. Just fire.
I grabbed the phone, squinting at the screen. Sebastian. Of course. My cousin, my best friend, my perpetual pain in the ass. I swiped to answer, voice rough from sleep and last night's exertions.
"What?"
"Julian, you sound like you got run over by a yacht. Rise and shine, cousin. I'm en route to the airstrip, your private jet's fueled and waiting. Pack your shit and get moving. We need to be wheeled up in an hour."
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, the fog lifting as his words sank in. Dubai. The deal. Right. The massive waterfront development, prime real estate in the heart of the city's expansion zone. We'd been circling it for months, outmaneuvering competitors with back-channel negotiations and a few well-placed incentives. But Sebastian's tone had that edge, the one that meant trouble.
"Why the rush? We weren't scheduled to fly out until tomorrow."
A pause, then his laugh, sharp, unapologetic. "Got a tip last night. One of our staffers in the Dubai office, a cute little analyst named Nadia, let slip that another big shot's sniffing around. Some Emirati tycoon with deeper pockets than God. If we don't close by tomorrow morning, he's swooping in with an all-cash offer. We can't let that happen."
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the tile floor cool under my feet. Nadia. Of course. Sebastian's "tips" always came with a side of conquest. "You mean you slept with her and she talked shop in the afterglow?"
He chuckled, the sound crackling through the line. "Hey, don't knock it. If I hadn't charmed her into spilling, we'd be blindsided. You're welcome, by the way."
I stood, stretching, a smirk tugging at my lips despite myself. Sebastian was family, blood and bond, the only person who'd stuck through the shitstorm after Sophia ghosted me. We'd built Cruz Developments together, him handling the schmoozing while I crunched the numbers and sealed the deals. But his revolving door of flings? Legendary. And occasionally useful.
"You're always sleeping with anything that moves," I said, padding toward the bathroom. "One day it's going to bite you in the ass."
"Jealous? And if I hadn't slept with her, we wouldn't know about this vulture circling our prize. So pack up, Mr. Celibate. Jet's waiting. See you in the air."
I ended the call with a grunt, tossing the phone on the bed. The room felt too quiet now, the ocean's murmur the only company. I glanced around, half-expecting... what? Her? The woman from last night, with her brown eyes that had burned into me, her laugh that had cut through my armor like it was paper.
She was gone.
I checked the bathroom first, the empty steam from last night's shower long faded. The deck outside? Nothing but the first blush of sunrise painting the cove in pinks and golds. No trace of her except the rumpled sheets and the faint scent of coconut lingering on the pillows.
Disappointment hit me like a rogue wave, sharp, unexpected. I'd woken up wanting... more. Her name, at least. A number. A chance to see those eyes in daylight, to hear her tease me again about property being more reliable than people. Last night had been explosive, the kind of connection that didn't fade with the stars. But she’d slipped away like a ghost, leaving me with an empty bed and a hollow ache in my chest.
Shake it off, Julian. It was one night. That's your rule. No repeats. No attachments.
I headed for the shower, turning the water scalding hot, letting it beat down on my shoulders like punishment. As steam filled the air, my mind wandered back to her anyway. The way she'd dared me into that skinny-dip, her body cutting through the waves like a siren. The beach, raw, urgent, sand in places it shouldn't be. Then here, in this room, slower, deeper. Her moans echoing off the walls, her nails raking my back, the way she'd shattered around me, pulling me under with her. I'd never come that hard, never felt that... exposed.
And now she is gone. No goodbye. No trace.
Disappointed? Hell yes. But what did I expect? We'd agreed, no promises. Still, a part of me, the part I'd buried after Sophia, wondered what if. What if I'd woken her with kisses down her spine? What if I'd asked for her name over coffee on the deck?
No. Focus. Dubai. The deal. That's what matters.
I toweled off, dressed quickly, linen pants, crisp white shirt, watch strapped to my wrist like armor. Packing was mechanical: laptop, files, the essentials shoved into my leather duffel. But as I zipped it shut, something caught the light on the floor near the bed. Silver. Delicate.
Her anklet.
I knelt, picking it up. The thin chain dangled from my fingers, the tiny shell charm glinting like a secret. She'd left it behind, forgotten in the sand, maybe, or tangled in the sheets. A trade, I thought with a wry smile. She'd taken my shirt; I'd keep this. It felt like fate's little joke, a tether to a woman I might never see again.
Excitement flickered through me, unbidden. I could track her with this. Resorts like this kept tabs on guests. Or...
I caught myself grinning like a schoolboy, that stupid, boyish thrill bubbling up. What the hell? I shoved the anklet into my pocket, shaking my head. Get a grip. It's just a trinket. Just one night. You don't do this, chase shadows. You get laid when you need it, which isn't often, and you move on. Empire first. Always.
But as I slung the duffel over my shoulder and headed for the door, the disappointment lingered, a quiet hum under my skin. She'd gotten under it. Somehow, in one reckless night, she'd made me want more than my rules allowed.
The path to the lobby was alive with the resort's early stirrings, groundskeepers raking sand, birds calling from the palms. I spotted the bartender from last night, Mateo, his name tag read, wiping down the bar, prepping for the day. He nodded politely as I passed.
Once I'm settled in Dubai, I'll call him. Get her name. Her room number. Something.
The thought sent a spark through me, but I quashed it. No. The deal first. Close it, then... maybe.
I climbed into the waiting car, the driver silent as we sped toward the airstrip. The island shrank in the rearview, paradise fading like a dream. But in my pocket, the anklet weighed heavy, a silver promise of what if.
And for the first time in years, I wasn't sure I wanted to let it go.
Chicago in early March was a fickle lover, teasing with hints of spring one day, then slapping you with icy winds the next. Today was the latter, gray skies brooding over the Gold Coast neighborhood, where brownstones huddled like old friends sharing secrets. I pulled my coat tighter as I stepped out of my car, the click of my heels echoing on the sidewalk. The house loomed ahead: a classic Victorian revival, all ornate trim and bay windows, the kind of place that whispered history while begging for a modern touch.My small interior design company—Moreau Interiors, just me, two junior designers, and a rotating crew of contractors, had poured three months into this project. The owners, a young power couple in tech, wanted “elegant chaos”: mid-century modern vibes with pops of eclectic art, sustainable fabrics, and enough smart tech to make the place feel alive. We’d nailed it. The final walkthrough was today; they’d move in tomorrow.I unlocked the door with the spare key, stepping int
New York in early February was a different beast from the Caribbean, gray skies pressing low, wind slicing through the glass canyons of Midtown, the city moving at a relentless pace that usually matched my own. Today, though, the rhythm felt off. It had been over a month since I left the island, the Dubai deal closed in a blur of signatures and champagne toasts after Sebastian insisted on four extra days of “proper celebration.” Yet every morning I woke up with the same phantom weight on my chest: her.The woman with the brown eyes that had burned into me, the laugh that had cut through my armor like it was paper, the body that had unraveled me on that beach and in my bed. I hadn’t gone a single day without thinking about her, replaying the way she’d dared me into the water, the taste of rum and salt on her lips, the way she’d looked at me like I was the only thing worth seeing.I’d waited two weeks after returning before I allowed myself to call the resort. Not out of weakness, I tol
The last night on the island hit like a bittersweet wave, the kind that knocks you off balance just when you’ve found your footing. Our bags were half-packed in the bungalow, flight confirmations buzzing on our phones, back to Chicago tomorrow, back to reality. Mia insisted we end with a bang: one final bar crawl, toasting to the adventures that had patched up my heart, piece by salty, sun-kissed piece.We dressed like it was our last chance to feel alive, Mia in a slinky gold dress that shimmered under the torchlights, me in high-waisted shorts and a cropped top, his shirt still hidden away like a talisman I couldn’t bear to wash. The air was thick with humidity and promise as we wandered the resort paths, laughter spilling from us like the wine we’d already cracked open in the room.The beach bar was alive, fairy lights strung like stars overhead, a steel drum band playing upbeat rhythms that made toes tap. We claimed our usual stools at the end, Mateo spotting us immediately with a
The days blurred into a sun-soaked haze after that morning confessional with Mia, each one a deliberate distraction from the ghost of last night’s stranger. I threw myself into the island’s rhythm, chasing adventure like it could outrun the ache in my chest—and the one lower down that flared every time I remembered his touch. Mia was my perfect accomplice, her energy a whirlwind that swept me along, refusing to let me wallow. “We’re single, hot, and on vacation,” she’d declared that first afternoon, dragging me to the resort’s activity desk. “Time to live like it.”Jet skiing came first, the next morning after a lazy breakfast of mango smoothies and fresh croissants on our deck. The water was impossibly turquoise, warm as a bath, and the instructor, a bronzed local with a grin that could melt ice, strapped us into life vests and gave us a quick tutorial. Mia revved her engine first, shooting off like a rocket, spray fountaining behind her. I followed, tentative at first, the machine b
The wine had gone straight to my head, turning the afternoon into a soft, golden blur. Mia was still in the plunge pool, floating on her back, one hand lazily trailing circles in the water while the other clutched the now-empty rosé bottle like a scepter. She looked like she’d been born for this exact moment, sun-kissed, unbothered, radiating the kind of effortless joy I used to have before everything cracked open.I sat on the edge of the lounge, bare feet dangling in the cool water, Julian’s stolen shirt hidden beneath the white robe. Every shift of the fabric against my skin reminded me of him, his hands, his mouth, the way he’d held me like I was something sacred and dangerous at the same time. My body still hummed with the aftershocks, sore in the best possible way, but the high was fading, and in its place came the familiar, unwelcome visitor: memory.Mia noticed the shift in my face the second it happened. She rolled over, swimming to the edge with powerful kicks that sent ripp
Sunlight poured through the gauzy curtains like liquid gold, hot and insistent, pulling me out of sleep the way only Caribbean mornings can, slow, sticky, and impossible to ignore.I blinked, disoriented, the sheets twisted around my legs like I'd fought them all night. My body felt heavy, deliciously used, every muscle reminding me of last night in tiny, secret throbs. The soreness between my thighs pulsed with each heartbeat, a quiet echo of him, deep, relentless, perfect. I pressed my face into the pillow and inhaled. His scent clung to me still: dark rum, salt, clean linen, and something darker, something that made my stomach flip even now.God. I overslept. Badly.The clock on the nightstand blinked at 10:36 a.m. Mia was going to roast me.I rolled over, expecting to find her sprawled across the other bed in her usual post-party chaos, empty wine bottles, mascara-streaked pillow, phone dead on the floor. But the bed was empty. Made. Pristine.A burst of laughter floated in from o







