Back in my room, I tidied up, spreading out sketches and notes on the small table by the window. The view outside was mesmerizing,the lagoon shimmering under the stars, the villas glowing like beacons. Vanya, Steven, and Theo arrived soon after, knocking politely. Vanya carried a notebook, her bangles jingling as she settled into a chair. Steven had his tablet, already pulling up files. Theo flopped onto the edge of my bed, kicking off his shoes with a grin.
“Alright, team,” I began, pulling up a chair. “Let’s set the tone for tomorrow. Susan wants interiors that redefine luxury but with a nod to sustainability. For the villas, I’m thinking neutral bases - ivory, taupe, with bold accents in ocean blues and emerald greens. Bamboo furniture, recycled glass light fixtures, maybe linen drapes for texture.”
Vanya nodded, scribbling notes. “Love that. For the pavilion, we could weave in local craftsmanship, handwoven rugs, coral, inspired inlays. Keep it opulent but tied to the island’s essence.”
Steven tapped his tablet, pulling up a mood board. “Lighting’s critical. Smart systems that shift with natural light, LED underlighting for drama. I’ve got some mockups here, clean lines, warm tones.”
Theo stretched lazily, glancing toward the door. “If Riley shows up, I swear she’s going to suggest gold ceilings and call it innovation.”
Right on cue, a knock came. Sharp, deliberate. Theo groaned. “I manifested that, didn’t I?”
Riley stepped inside, perfectly put together, as if she’d just walked off a yacht instead of a helicopter. Her glossy lips curved in a faint smirk. “You started without me,” she said, her tone light but edged. “I was… networking.”
Theo muttered under his breath, “Flirting with Victor isn’t networking,” earning a quiet elbow from Vanya.
Riley ignored him and glided toward the sketches. “So what’s the vision? Please don’t tell me we’re doing another beige paradise. Guests pay for fantasy, not restraint.”
I met her gaze calmly. “Not beige — balance. The fantasy is in the detail, not the color.”
She tilted her head, considering that, then shrugged. “Fine. But if Keith walks into this place and doesn’t gasp, that’s on you.”
Theo smirked. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll gasp, Riley. Probably when you hand him your résumé.”
A ripple of laughter moved through the room, even Steven cracking a grin. Riley shot Theo a look that could curdle champagne but said nothing, instead flipping open her tablet with exaggerated poise.
We tossed ideas around for hours about materials, palettes, layouts. Riley occasionally chimed in with “statement pieces” and “signature luxury touches,” half of which made Theo roll his eyes so hard I thought they might stay that way. Still, a few of her suggestions were surprisingly sharp. Bold, unconventional, but workable. The energy was electric, ideas flowing freely. By the time we wrapped up, my phone read 11:45 p.m. My eyes burned with fatigue, but the session felt like a win.
“Solid start,” I said, stretching. “Let’s reconvene tomorrow after we tour the site.”
They murmured goodnights, filing out, the door clicking shut behind them. The room fell silent, the ocean’s rhythm seeping through the open balcony. I headed to the bathroom, letting the warm shower melt away the day’s tension. After drying off, I slipped into a peach silk nightgown. Simple yet elegant, its soft fabric brushing against my skin. It fit comfortably, neither too revealing nor too modest, and the warm hue brought a quiet glow to my complexion. For a moment, wrapped in the gentle fabric, I almost felt at ease. Like the world outside my walls didn’t exist.
My hair was still wet, dripping coolly down my back. I towel-dried it, then twisted it into a loose bun. Exhaustion weighed on me, but as I slid under the sheets, sleep refused to come. At home, I had my safe space. A fort in my bedroom, draped with blankets and fairy lights, a cocoon where nightmares couldn’t reach. Here, I had only this unfamiliar space and the echoes of those grasping hands from my dreams. Acute insomnia, coupledwith those repetitive nightmares, had haunted me for years, leaving me restless and frayed.
After half an hour of tossing, I gave up. I grabbed the matching cloak that tied at the waist and draped it over my shoulders, cinching it loosely. Slipping my phone into the pocket, I stepped out into the night. The resort was quiet, the paths lit by lanterns that cast soft, golden light. The air was balmy, scented with jasmine and salt, and my bare feet padded silently on the cool grass. I wandered without direction, letting the island’s calm seep into me.
My steps led me to the infinity pool, a stunning expanse that seemed to merge with the lagoon beyond. Moonlight danced on the water, silver ripples shimmering like liquid starlight. Golden luminescent lights ringed the pool, their warm glow creating an ethereal ambiance. I sat on the edge, dipping my legs into the cool water up to my calves, the sensation grounding me.
I pulled out my phone and played a soft melody. Gentle piano notes that floated into the night, blending with the waves. Closing my eyes, I let the music and water soothe my restless mind. A ripple broke my reverie, the water stirring in the pool’s far corner. I turned, my breath catching as a figure emerged from the depths.
He rose smoothly, water cascading off his broad shoulders, and flipped his wet hair back with one hand, droplets scattering like tiny stars. He was breathtaking. Sharp jawline like chiseled stone, piercing eyes that gleamed under the moonlight, long eyelashes sparkling with water. A neatly trimmed beard, softening his rugged beauty. His hair slicked back, curled slightly at the ends. Below the water, his physique was imposing. Eight-pack abs rippling under tanned skin, a bulky build that made him look like a Greek statue come to life, powerful arms, a presence that dwarfedeverything around him. A faint scar slashed diagonally across his broad chest, a pale reminder that even perfection carried its battles.
He hadn’t noticed me, wading to the edge where a glass of cognac and a cigar rested on a small table. Half his body was visible above the water, muscles flexing with each movement. He lit the cigar with a match, the flame illuminating his face briefly, then took a deep puff, smoke curling into the night. He poured a measure of cognac, sipping it slowly, the amber liquid glinting in the golden light.
Our eyes met as he turned, his expression calm, almost indifferent. My cheeks flushed, a warm blush spreading across my face. He set the glass down and spoke, his voice deep and resonant, carrying effortlessly over the water.
“You must be Aurelia Sterling.”
I nodded, caught off guard by his awareness of me. “Yes, that’s me. How did you know?”
A faint smile curved his lips, those dimples deepening. “I make it a point to know who’s on my island.”
My mind raced, pieces clicking into place. “Oh my God. You’re…”
He didn’t answer. Only exhaled a slow plume of smoke, eyes locked on mine. Steady, unblinking, almost daring me to finish the sentence myself.
Shock hit me like a wave. Keith Krogen. The man behind Elysian Haven. I scrambled to my feet, water dripping from my legs, suddenly hyper-aware of my revealing nightgown. “Mr. Krogen,I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I couldn’t sleep and just needed some air. I’ll leave you to it.”
He lifted a hand, a subtle gesture that halted me instantly. “Stay.”
