29. Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Twenty Nine
Cole
The moment we step off the jet, the thick, balmy air of the Caribbean hits us, warm and salted with the scent of the ocean.
The sun hangs low in the sky, casting everything in golden light, and the rhythmic sound of waves rolling onto the shore is a steady backdrop to the otherwise peaceful scene. It’s the kind of place people dream about.
And yet, all I can focus on is Annie.
She’s walking beside me, sunglasses perched on her nose, her blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. The slight breeze tugs at the hem of her sundress, and if I weren’t watching her so closely, I wouldn’t notice how she keeps pressing a hand to her stomach when she thinks no one is looking.
When we’d first arrived at the airport and were driving along the tarmac, Annie had been incredibly impressed. Her jaw had nearly dropped seeing it.
And I’ll be honest, it had made me quite proud—maybe a bit smug—to see her reaction, to hear her gush as we drove up to it. To know that I could give her a dream vacation .
But then she’d stepped out of the limo, and that’s when things had gone wrong. I thought maybe she had nerves, but I saw how pale she got on the plane, the way she turned greener by the minute as we ascended.
She barely said a word the entire flight, sipping ginger ale like it was the only thing keeping her upright. And the second the seatbelt sign turned off, she bolted to the bathroom and threw up.
She hadn’t said anything about it, but it was pretty damn obvious.
Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for when bringing her on this trip.
Now, she looks a little better—some color has returned to her face—but I don’t like how quiet she is. Annie isn’t quiet. She’s expressive, chatty, full of energy. Right now, she’s subdued.
And that doesn’t sit right with me.
“Still feeling sick?” I ask, keeping my voice even as we step onto the dock where a sleek black SUV waits for us.
She shakes her head quickly. “No, I’m okay. Just—” she hesitates, then forces a smile. “Maybe I’m not the best flyer.”
I don’t believe her. Not entirely. But I don’t press.
Instead, I glance at Robbie, who is practically bouncing with excitement as he tugs on my sleeve.
“Dad, look!” He points toward the beach, eyes wide. “The water is so blue! Can we go swimming right now?”
“Let’s get to the house first,” I say, ruffling his hair. “Then we’ll talk about it.”
Robbie huffs but doesn’t argue. He’s too distracted by everything around him.
Annie, on the other hand, is silent again, taking in the scenery as the driver loads our bags into the SUV.
I watch her from the corner of my eye, waiting for some sort of reaction. I knew she’d be impressed—most people are when they see this place—but I was looking forward to seeing it on her face.
Finally, as we climb into the car and the driver pulls away, she exhales a soft laugh, shaking her head.
“Okay, I have to admit,” she murmurs, “this is insane.”
I smirk, leaning back against the leather seat. “Yeah?”
She turns to me, lifting her sunglasses to the top of her head so I can see the full effect of her wide, disbelieving eyes. “Cole. You own an island.”
I shrug. “Technically, yes.”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who could say that sentence so casually.”
“Most people I know can.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles. At least that’s back.
“Okay, but—” She gestures out the window. “Do you even use it? Like, do you come here a lot?”
“Not as much as I should.”
Her expression shifts slightly, something unreadable passing through her features before she looks back out at the landscape. Palm trees sway in the warm breeze, the sun dipping lower as we drive along the quiet road that leads to the house.
I let the silence settle between us, though I keep stealing glances at her. She looks better than she did on the plane, but there’s still a stiffness in her shoulders, a slight tension in her jaw. I don’t like it.
After about ten minutes, we pull up to the house—if you can even call it that.
I try to imagine it from the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time.
The estate sits nestled against a stretch of white-sand beach, a sprawling modern villa with clean white walls and dark wood accents. Designed to blend in with its surroundings, rather than distract from the beauty of the island, its pristine white walls gleam under the golden sun, softened by the rich warmth of dark teak wood accents.
Floor-to-ceiling glass walls dominate the entire side facing the ocean, reflecting the rolling turquoise waves and swaying palms, creating the illusion that the entire house is an extension of the sea .
Robbie is the first one out of the car, practically launching himself onto the driveway.
“This is so cool!” he yells, spinning in a circle. “Can we go inside? Can we see my room?”
“Go ahead,” I tell him. “Your bags will be brought up.”
It occurs to me that the last time I was here, Robbie was a baby. It was a few months after Robin passed, and I was trying to get away from everything. Trying to forget anything that would remind me of her. All it had done was give me more time to think about her.
Our trip had lasted two days before we were back home.
Yes, I do own an island, and my son is seeing it for the very first time.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes off up the front steps, disappearing through the open doorway.
Annie steps out of the car more carefully, tilting her head back to take it all in.
“Jesus,” she breathes. “This looks like something out of a movie.”
I close the car door behind her, watching her reaction with barely concealed satisfaction. “I had it designed that way.”
She shakes her head, clearly at a loss for words.
“Come on,” I say, gesturing toward the house. “Let’s get inside.”
As we walk up to the villa’s grand entrance, a woman stands there, waiting for us with a warm yet composed smile.
She’s tall and poised, her deep brown skin glowing under the Caribbean sun. Her black hair is woven into an intricate braid that falls over one shoulder, and her crisp linen dress is as pristine as the villa itself.
“Mr. Wagner,” she greets me with a polite nod before her dark eyes shift to Annie and Robbie. “Miss Fox. Welcome to the island.”
Annie straightens slightly at the unexpected formality.
“I’m Maritza,” she continues, her voice smooth with a soft island lilt. “I run the household here. My team and I will ensure that your stay is as comfortable as possible. Whatever you need—meals, laundry, transportation, activities—simply let me know, and I will handle it.”
“Thank you, Maritza,” I say.
She turns to Annie with an even warmer smile. “I hope you enjoy your time here. The ocean is calm this week, perfect for swimming, and the kitchen has been stocked with everything you might want. If there’s anything missing, we’ll have it brought over immediately.”
“This place is incredible,” Annie says, looking around at the villa in awe. “Thank you for having everything ready for us.”
“It is my pleasure,” Maritza replies. “Now, I’ll give you time to settle in. But please, don’t hesitate to call for me if you need anything.”
With that, she turns and heads back into the depths of the house, her posture as regal as a queen’s. Annie watches her disappear through the villa’s entryway before turning to me with a smirk.
“She’s the vacation version of Ellis,” she says under her breath, amusement dancing in her blue eyes.
I let out a low chuckle. “Ellis is the one who hired her.”
Annie’s laughter bursts out of her before she can stop it. “Of course he did. That man is everywhere.”
I shake my head with a smirk, grabbing our bags from the car. “Come on, let’s get inside. I need a drink.”
Still laughing, Annie follows me, her expression lighter than it had been all day.
The entrance opens into an airy, open-concept space, where the boundary between indoors and outdoors dissolves. Gentle ocean breezes drift through the arching hallways, carrying the faint scent of salt and tropical flowers.
Sightlines straight through the villa and out the doors show a stunning infinity pool that spills over the edge of a stone terrace, its shimmering surface merging effortlessly with the deep blue of the ocean beyond.
The pool appears endless, stretching toward the horizon where sky and sea become one. Wide wooden decks encircle the water, adorned with plush sun loungers and shaded cabanas, perfect for relaxation beneath the Caribbean sun .
The private beach—untouched and completely secluded—is a sea of powdery white sand dotted with towering palms and vibrant greenery, which frame the shoreline, offering a dappled shade and a sense of intimate paradise.
The only sound is the crash of the tide, the whisper of the breeze through the leaves, and the distant call of seabirds overhead.
I stop and take a deep breath. Annie’s right. I really should be using this more. It’s like I can finally breathe .
The interior is just as expansive as the exterior—open-concept with high ceilings, crisp white walls, and floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a perfect view of the beach. The decor is modern but warm, its furniture, throw rugs, and soft touches making it feel more like a home than a showpiece.
Annie glances around, her fingers brushing over the smooth wood of the staircase as she walks farther in.
“I can give you a tour if you want,” I say.
Her eyes flick to mine, searching. Then, after a beat, she nods. “Okay.”
And just like that, some of the tension in her posture eases.
I want to believe that means she’s feeling better.
I hope she’s feeling better.
The last thing I want is for her to be sick this whole trip.