Honest, I’d come down that morning intending to read my book, soak up some sun, and ignore him if I happened to see him again.
But somehow… We ended up side by side all day.
The resort pool stretched out like a glittering sapphire, framed by swaying palms and white umbrellas fluttering lazily in the breeze. The air smelled like sea salt and sunscreen, and the sunlight was so warm it seeped into my skin, turning the edges of the world soft and golden.
We started with business, of course. It always did with us. Talk of shipping routes, expansion contracts, new suppliers – our usual language. Clean, sharp, competitive.
But then it shifted.
Somehow, between my tanning lotion and his ridiculous sunglasses, we slipped into real conversation. Personal things. Hobbies. Books.
That was how I found out Matteo Di’Ablo – the six-foot-five, cartel golden boy with more muscle than should be legal – liked astronomy.
Not just the constellations, but the science of it. He spoke about stars like they were living things, about how ancient civilizations used the night sky to navigate, to worship, to tell their stories. His eyes lit up when he talked about it, soft and warm like honey catching sunlight.
I hadn’t expected that.
In return, I admitted my own obsession: mythology. Greek, Roman… Their empires, their gods, their stories – I’d devoured books on them since I was a kid.
To my surprise, he didn’t just nod politely. He joined in. He knew the stories. Really knew them. He challenged me on details about Poseidon’s temples, about how astronomy intertwined with the gods of the sea and sky. I’d never had anyone to talk to about those things before. Not like that.
Hours melted away.
While I tanned, he claimed the lounge chair beside mine, stretching out like he owned the sun. His chest gleamed under the heat, his gold cross catching the light.
And when the afternoon grew too hot, we ended up in the pool together, drifting near the shallow end, still talking – our conversation somehow shifting back to the mythology of water gods and their link to the stars.
It was… easy. Effortless, even.
For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like we were fighting a current.
And now, we’d just gotten done having an early dinner together at the resort’s restaurant.
The sky outside the open-air restaurant was painted in streaks of coral and lavender, the horizon blurring intothe endless blue of the Pacific. Palm trees swayed lazily in the evening breeze, carrying the soft scent of saltwater and frangipani. We’d finished early, long before the others were due back from their ridiculous “night waterfall swim,” which, in my opinion, sounded like a terrible idea in the dark.
Matteo leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of his drink, his gaze settled on me like he wasn’t in any rush to leave.
“So,” He said, voice low and easy, “What’s the plan for the rest of your night,princesa?”
The question slipped past my guard, and I answered without thinking. “Spa, pack, order room service, watch a movie…”
He raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s your last night plan?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, that mischievous spark lighting his eyes. “You can’t do that. Not on your last night here.”
I crossed my arms, amused. “Really? And what do you suggest, then?”
“Come out with me,” he said smoothly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Into town. One unforgettable night.”
I let out a small laugh at his teasing tone. “I’m not going on a date with you, Matteo.”
The words came out a little too quick, a little too defensive.
He smirked, tilting his head and acting innocent. “Who said anything about a date? Just two people spending time together.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
