Chapter 7
Keith
Victor's voice cut through the night like a blade, pulling me back from the haze of the moment. "Mr. Krogen, apologies. An urgent matter requires your attention."
I glanced at Aurelia, her eyes wide with confusion. But duty called. Always did. Steeling myself, I turned away. "Put your cloak on," I said, my voice sharper than intended, laced with frustration not at her, but at the interruption. "And don’t wander around the resort dressed like that."
She looked stung, but I didn't wait for a response.
I strode out of the water, grabbing a towel from the nearby lounger and wrapping it around my waist. Victor fell into step beside me as we left the pool area, the golden lights fading behind us, replaced by the dim lanterns lining the path to my private villa.
The air was thick with humidity, the distant waves a constant murmur.
We reached my villa, a sprawling structure at the island's heart.
Victor followed me inside, closing the door with a soft click.
The interior was cool, air-conditioned, with low lighting that cast long shadows across the minimalist furniture.
I poured myself a fresh cognac from the bar, the liquid swirling in the glass, drawing deeply to steady my thoughts.
"What's so urgent?" I asked, leaning against the desk.
Victor stood straight, his expression unreadable as always.
"It's your father, sir. Marcus called. He's escalating The Butcher situation.
New intel suggests the Butcher operates from a safehouse, somewhere remote, possibly urban camouflage.
He's demanding we prioritize finding the location.
He wants you involved directly, says your resources here could uncover leads he can't from the mainland. "
I took a sip of cognac, the burn grounding me, but my mind drifted again.
Aurelia's voice in the water, soft and tentative.
I'd never let anyone that close, not in years.
Women were distractions, tools at best, but she.
.. she felt different. Vulnerable, yet strong.
Her curves under that gown, the silk translucent in the moonlight, hinting at everything beneath.
"Sir?" Victor prompted, his brow furrowing slightly. "Your thoughts on the safehouse?"
I exhaled, forcing my focus back. Marcus and his obsessions. "Tell him I'll look into it. But resources are tied up with the resort launch. He can't expect miracles overnight."
Victor nodded, but his eyes narrowed. "You're distracted, sir. That's not like you. Work has always been your anchor."
I met his gaze, the cigar smoldering between my fingers. He was right. I'd built my empire on laser focus, no room for diversions. But tonight, it was different. Instead of answering about Marcus, I shifted gears. "I need you to dig up information on someone."
Victor's expression remained neutral, but curiosity flickered. "Who?"
"Aurelia Sterling. Background, history, anything noteworthy. Discreetly."
He paused, then nodded. "Consider it done, sir. I'll have a file by morning."
The door shut with a finality that echoed in the empty villa.
I finished my cognac in one swallow, the heat spreading through my chest, but it did little to quell the restlessness.
Aurelia's image haunted me. Her amber eyes wide with trust, her body yielding yet defiant in the water. I needed to clear my head.
I headed to the master bathroom, a sanctuary of marble and glass, the shower a rainfall system that could drown out the world.
I stripped off the damp swim trunks, letting them fall to the floor, and stepped under the cascade.
The water hit me hot and hard, steam rising around me, but my thoughts refused to wash away.
They circled back to her, relentlessly. But I couldn't afford distractions, not with Marcus breathing down my neck, the Butcher's moves to orchestrate, the resort's launch looming.
I stepped out, toweling off roughly, the steam clearing from the mirror to reveal my reflection, eyes shadowed.
Control. That's what built me. I slid into the king-sized bed.
The sheets were crisp, the room dark save for the moonlight filtering through the blinds.
Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was dreamless, for once.