He inclined his head and continued on his way, leaving me standing there, the night air suddenly chillier. Disappointment bloomed fully now, a dull ache in my chest. Men like Keith Krogen had empires to run, deals to close, worlds to conquer. I was just a designer on his payroll, a brief spark in his orbit. No importance, no lasting impact. The thought twisted in my gut as I made my way back to my room, the heels I'd worn to impress now feeling foolish.
Inside, I kicked off the shoes and changed into my pajamas. The room was quiet, the balcony doors open to let in the ocean breeze, but sleep eluded me. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the sheets cool against my skin. Why did this affect me so much? Keith was a client, nothing more. Yet his words replayed endlessly.
Why had he been so close? Why did he look at me that way? As if there was something more between us, something he shouldn’t want but couldn’t stop himself from acknowledging? It hadn’t been just conversation. There’d been tension, an undercurrent that stole my breath before I could name it.
My mind fixated on that scar on his chest, a jagged line, pale against his tanned skin, running from his collarbone down toward his heart. It looked old, healed but deep, like something from a violent past. What had happened to him? A car accident? A fight? Or something darker, tied to the ruthless world of billionaires and family legacies? I'd noticed it in the pool, but in the heat of the moment, it had been just a detail. Now, in the quiet, it haunted me. It spoke of pain, of survival, making him seem more human, more vulnerable beneath that poised exterior. Did it ache on cold nights? Did he ever talk about it?
As the hours dragged on, my thoughts spiraled. Why did I care? I had a career to build, a project to nail. Men like him were complications, not connections. But the insomnia gripped me, the same acute restlessness that had driven me to the pool before. The nightmares hovered at the edges, those grasping hands, but tonight they were overshadowed by him, his dimples under the beard, his long lashes, the bulky physique that made me feel small yet safe.
By morning, I hadn't slept a wink. The sky lightened to a soft gray, birdsong filtering in. I dragged myself up, splashing water on my face, the mirror reflecting dark circles under my eyes. When the team knocked for the morning tour, I opened the door a crack, forcing a weak smile. "I'm not feeling well," I said, my voice hoarse. "Sleepless night. You guys go ahead. I'll catch up on notes here."
Theo frowned, concern etching his features. "You sure? We can postpone."
"No, no. Go on. I'll be fine after some rest."
They left reluctantly, their voices fading down the path. I collapsed back onto the bed, but sleep still evaded me. By late afternoon, theroom felt stifling, the air heavy with my swirling thoughts. I needed fresh air. Changing into a light white tank top and cotton shorts, simple, comfortable clothes that let the breeze kiss my skin, I slipped on sandals and headed out.
The ocean shore was a short walk from the villas, the sand warm underfoot as I left the paved paths behind. The sun hung low, casting a golden haze over the waves that rolled in gently, foaming at the edges. I walked aimlessly, leaving a trail of footprints in the damp sand, the water occasionally lapping at my toes. Settling on a cluster of smooth rocks near the shore, I drew my knees up, resting my chin on them. The horizon stretched endlessly, a blend of blue sky and sea that calmed my frayed nerves.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me out of my thoughts. The screen lit up with a name that made me smile. Killian.
I answered, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Hey, Killian”
“Aurelia, my baby sister.” he said, his voice warm but edged. “You sound… different. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said softly, gazing out at the water. “Everything’s fine. Just—work. The project’s going well so far.”
He hummed, unconvinced. “Work, huh? Where exactly is this project again? Because it looks like you’re in the middle of the damn ocean.”
I laughed, the sound echoing faintly with the waves. “You still keeping tabs on me? Well! Technically, I am. It’s an island resort. We’re handling the interior designs.”
He groaned. “Of course you are. You and your obsession with faraway places. Just—be careful, alright? Places that sound too perfect usually aren’t.”
“I’m fine, Killian,” I reassured him, smiling at his concern. “You worry too much.”
“That’s my job,” he said simply. “Call me if you need anything. And I meananything.”
“I will,” I promised. “Now go, before you start sounding like Dad.”
I could hear him smile. “You wish. Take care, sis.”
The line went dead, leaving me with the soft hum of the ocean and the comfort of his voice still lingering in my mind. For a few moments, the world felt normal again.
My thoughts drifted to simpler things, the way the project was shaping up, the thrill of designing spaces that could become someone's dream escape. Maybe I'd sketch some wave, inspired patterns later, incorporate the ocean's rhythm into the spa designs.
Even as I tried to focus, a strange unease settled over me, a prickling awareness, like the air itself was watching. The beach was empty, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of unseen eyes following my every move. My heart picked up, the waves growing louder, mocking. I scanned the tree line. Nothing. Still, the chill lingered, crawling under my skin. Maybe it was exhaustion. Or maybe... someone really was there. I turned back toward the villas, the weight of that thought trailing me like a shadow.
Chapter 11
Keith
The balcony of my villa overlooked the lagoon like a throne surveying its kingdom, the water below a dark, rippling expanse under the midday sun. I leaned against the railing, the warm wood smooth under my palms, my eyes fixed on the distant shore where Aurelia walked. She couldn't see me from here. She moved with that effortless grace, her white tank top and cotton shorts casual, her hair loose and catching the breeze. Footprints trailed behind her in the sand, a temporary mark on the island I'd built to be untouchable. But she touched everything, didn't she? Even from this distance, she pulled at me, a magnetic force I couldn't ignore.
Last night, I'd left her waiting by the pool but I had no choice. The burner phone's text had come like a thunderclap. Marcus's latest shipment, a cargo of "merchandise" funneled through shadowy ports, had been ambushed again. It was the third time in months, each attack more brazen, chipping away at the Krogen empire's facade of invincibility. Father was furious, demanding I return to New York to handle the fallout, to hunt the phantom who'd become his obsession. I'd boarded the helicopter under the coverof darkness, the island shrinking below me, Aurelia's expectant face haunting the flight.
Now, back after a whirlwind of meetings, I watched her. She settled near the shore, knees drawn up, lost in thought. What was she pondering? The project? Or the way I'd vanished without a word? Guilt twisted in my gut, an unfamiliar sensation. I wasn't used to owing explanations.
My gaze lingered as she shifted, pulling out her phone. I couldn’t hear the words, just the lightness in her action. The kind reserved for someone familiar, someone safe. She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
