Undeniable Paradise (The Undisputed #2)

Prologue

FIVE YEARS AGO

Marie

The sunset over the marina painted the sky in mango and hibiscus, colors so vivid they almost looked hand-painted. But my island was as real as they came.

The salt always lingered on my skin after a swim, the trade winds carried the scent of flowers, and the dolphins swam through the water every golden hour.

This was my home—born and raised in every way.

I checked my reflection in the chrome trim of the yacht, my fingers drifting over dark skin. My braids fell down my back, a few threaded with pink ribbon, catching the orange light.

The pink beach dress I'd chosen, the one that made me feel pretty yet professional, moved with me as I adjusted the welcome basket. It had champagne, chocolate-covered strawberries, and fresh fruit sliced into a fan.

"Marie, you're going to spoil them!” Carlos called from the boat, grinning as he secured the last rope. Our captain was sixty-something, weathered by the sun and sea, and treated me like a mermaid.

"That's my job!” I smiled but didn't look up, too focused on making sure the orchids in the arrangement hadn't wilted. VIP clients paid premium prices for premium experiences, and I'd built my reputation on delivering exactly that.

I’d been the best tour guide at Caribbean Horizon Tours for three years, and now, at 27, the Best Tour Guide plaque in my apartment proved the ocean lived in my blood.

Carlos laughed, the sound familiar as the waves lapping against the hull. "You know what your problem is? You're half-mermaid and can't stay on land more than five minutes without getting twitchy."

"Only half?" I turned to face him, hands on my hips, pretending to be offended. "Carlos, I'm insulted! I'm at least seventy-five percent."

"Ah, you're right, you're right." He waved a hand. "What was I thinking? You've got gills hidden under all that pink.”

"Exactly." I grinned, proudly adjusting one of my pink ribbons. "And Honey's my selkie. She just hasn't told me where she hid her seal skin yet."

The mention of my golden retriever made Carlos's face tilt. "That dog loves the water almost as much as you do. How is she?”

She was only three—I’d gotten her as a puppy and had tried to train her.

"Probably destroying my couch cushions as we speak, but she'll forgive me when I take her for a sunset swim after this tour."

Carlos gave me a knowing look. “If you can get away from your clients."

He knew me well. I’d often stay onboard after a tour if someone wanted to hear another story about the reef, see one more coral, or watch one more sea creature dance through the water.

"I'll try to control myself."

“Uh-huh.”

A black sedan pulled up to the marina entrance before I could throw a chunk of fruit at him, and my professional smile locked into place.

It was sleek black with tinted windows that reflected the sunset back at me.

Two men stepped out, who I’d decided were not tourists—their suits were too sharp, too expensive for people who were about to spend three hours on a boat. But they moved with confidence, like they knew exactly where they were going.

Security, maybe? For the people who’d booked the private yacht?

"Miss Rivers?" The tall one's voice was smooth. He smiled professionally, an expression that said he'd done this before. "We've heard exceptional things about your tours."

"All true, I promise." I wiped my hands on my dress and extended one for him to shake. "Caribbean Horizon Tours at your service. Is your party running on time, or should I prep some snacks while we wait?”

"Actually,” The broader man spoke up, his voice carrying a slight rasp. "That's what we wanted to discuss with you. Our employer can’t make it tonight. He was very specific about wanting the best, though, so he’d like to rebook.”

That familiar pride bloomed through me. "That's really flattering. Thank you."

"He's hosting a private event at The Orion," the tall one continued, "and when he mentioned wanting to arrange several exclusive excursions for his guests, the concierge insisted we speak with you personally."

The Orion. I'd heard the name whispered around the island. It was the most exclusive resort, tucked inland where the jungle met the mountains. I'd never been since I never had a reason to venture that far from the coast.

"I don't usually do consultations inland," I said, the words automatic. Carlos knew, Papa knew. Everyone who knew me knew. I was a creature of tides and salt spray—just the idea of driving away from the ocean made my skin itch.

"But I'd be happy to meet here at the marina, or even at one of the beachfront properties.”

"Unfortunately, Mr. Castellanos is hosting an event this evening." The tall one's smile turned apologetic. "He's flying out tomorrow morning, and he'd very much like to meet you tonight to discuss the bookings for several high-profile guests and multiple excursions. It could be quite lucrative."

Carlos had gone quiet on the boat. I could feel him trying to listen, though I doubt he could hear very well.

He knew I'd find a polite way to decline, to suggest an alternative, because the ocean was twenty feet away, and The Orion was what, thirty minutes inland?

Forty? It might as well be on another planet.

But… it was for several private excursions with different guests. The kind of opportunity that could fund new equipment for the boat, maybe even that underwater camera I'd been eyeing for months.

"When would he need me there?"

"We're heading back now, if you're available. It shouldn't take more than an hour or two." The broad one gestured to the car. "We'll have you back by nine at the latest."

Nine would still give me time for that beach walk with Honey, and it was just a consultation. I’d done dozens of these; I could talk about reef ecosystems and dolphins in my sleep.

"I should probably change first.” I glanced down at my dress, suddenly aware of how casual I looked. How beachy. "This isn't exactly business meeting attire."

"You look fine. I think that's exactly what Mr. Castellanos wants—someone authentic who knows the island."

Then this was just another client meeting—another opportunity to share what I loved most about my home.

"Okay." I relented. I grabbed my purse from where I'd stashed it in the dry bins and waved to Carlos. "Tell the boss I'll have those coral reef photos for her presentation by tomorrow!"

"Have fun with the fancy people!" he called back. "Try not to convince them all to become marine biologists!"

I smiled. “No promises!"

The car was cool inside, the air-conditioning a welcome contrast to the humid evening air. I slid into the backseat, and the tall one climbed in beside me while the broad one took the passenger seat, the driver already backing out.

I tried not to think about how my sandy sandals were probably leaving marks on the dark floor mats.

"I'm Dennis, by the way," the tall one said as we pulled away from the marina. "And that's Dave up front."

"Marie." I watched the boats disappear behind us, that familiar pang of silly separation hitting my chest. It would be barely an hour, and I'd be back before Honey could whine too much about missing me.

"So what kind of excursions is Mr. Castellanos interested in? Snorkeling? Deep-sea fishing? We do this incredible night trip where—"

"He'll want to discuss all the options with you directly,” Dennis cut me off. "We're just the transportation. Not much help with the ocean expertise."

"That's alright.” I settled back against the seat, watching the palm trees blur past the window. We were heading inland, away from the coast road, and every mile made my shoulders tense a little more. Not fear, just... discomfort, like a fish watching the tide recede.

Dave glanced back at me through the rearview mirror. “You like the water?”

"It's the only place that makes sense." The words came without thinking. "Everything else is just... me waiting to get back to the ocean.”

We drove for twenty minutes, then thirty, the jungle growing thicker on either side of the road.

There were no glimpses of blue between the trees, no salt in the air filtering through the vents.

Just green shadows and the uncomfortable awareness that I was farther from the coast than I'd been in forever.

Eventually, The Orion rose out of the jungle as if from another world—dark glass and architecture, lights cutting against the darkening sky.

Music drifted from the terraces, along with laughter and the clink of expensive glassware. Beautiful people in beautiful clothes, probably sipping cocktails and living lives I couldn't begin to imagine.

"Wow," I breathed, craning my neck to take it all in. "I knew it was fancy, but…”

"Mr. Castellanos likes the best." Dennis’ voice carried pride. "This way. We'll take you in through the side entrance. The main lobby is off-limits during events."

We pulled around, and I followed them out of the car. The hallway was empty, with muted lighting and expensive carpeting that swallowed our footsteps.

"Just through here." Dave gestured to a door at the end of the hall. It was a solid, heavy door that meant something important was on the other side.

Dennis opened it for me, and I stepped through into a room that was dark wood and leather, trinkets lining the walls, and a large desk sat in the center. It was an office for someone rich and powerful.

A man stood by the window, his back to me, staring out at the jungle. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and when he turned, his smile was wide and white, not meeting his eyes.

"Miss Rivers." His voice was low. “Thank you so much for coming."

"Of course, Mr. Castellanos. I'm excited to discuss—"

The door closed behind me, and not with the soft click of a door settling into its frame.

A lock clicked.

My heart stuttered, my smile froze. Every instinct I'd honed over twenty-seven years of reading currents and the subtle warnings the ocean gave before a storm—they all started screaming at once.

"Actually,” Castellanos moved closer, and I could see him properly now. Forty, maybe. Expensive suit, brown hair, manicured hands, eyes that traveled over me like I was inhuman.

"You're even better than I’d hoped. That exotic, local look… The hair, the dress, those dark eyes. My clients are going to love you."

The air turned to concrete in my lungs. "I'm sorry, I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm a tour guide, I run boat excursions, snorkeling trips—"

"Oh, you'll be doing much more than that."

He circled me slowly, and I felt terror grow—like one of the reef sharks I loved watching, except I was on the wrong side of the glass now. My breaths started coming quicker.

"You come highly recommended, Miss Rivers. Competent, professional, experienced with managing picky clients. That's exactly what we need."

"I need to go." My voice came out thinner than I wanted. I turned toward the door, but Dennis and Dave were standing in front of it, and the warmth in their eyes had vanished, replaced by something flat. Neutral.

The expression of men doing a job they'd done before.

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Castellanos stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell his cologne—suffocating. “We have a very exclusive operation here. A very private one, and we've been looking for someone with your qualities."

"Let me out." My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking. "Let me out now."

"You're going to be valuable here, Marie." He reached out and touched one of my braids, and I jerked away so violently I stumbled. "Our guests pay premium prices for authentic local experiences."

The words landed sickeningly. Authentic local experiences? Oh god, he was serious.

“No." The word ripped out of me. "No, I have a job, I have a life, people are expecting me.”

“You're merely at The Orion for a consultation." His smile never wavered. “The transportation car got… raided. Maybe you crashed on the way here.”

The room tilted, my vision blurred. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. I'd left the marina an hour ago with my welcome basket and my plans to walk Honey on the beach, and now…

“Cameras recorded me leaving with you," I managed, grasping for anything, any thread of hope. “It picked up your car, your faces.”

I didn’t mention Carlos. I didn’t need to endanger him beyond this, either.

“You only left for a business meeting at a resort." Castellanos's voice was patient, as if he were explaining something simple. "Nothing unusual about that.”

He was right. He was right, and that realization cracked something inside my heart.

He nodded to Dennis and Dave. "Take her downstairs, get her processed, and cleaned up. We have work for her next week, and I want her ready."

Work?

Dennis’ hand closed around my upper arm, hard. I yanked away, my survival instincts finally overriding the shock, and lunged for the door. My fingers scraped against wood, finding the handle, until Dave grabbed my other arm, and together they pulled me away from my only exit.

I fought, kicked, and twisted, screaming high and desperate and so, so far from the ocean that no one who cared could hear me.

"Feisty." Castellanos sounded pleased. "That'll need to be trained out of her, but the spirit is good.”

I screamed again, the sound more animal than human. It was the sound of being ripped away from everything I loved. My sandals skidded against the floor as they dragged me toward a second door I hadn't seen before, hidden, camouflaged in a wooden shelf.

"The ocean," I sobbed, the words spilling out broken. I needed my ocean, I needed my home.

"You won't see the ocean anymore." Castellanos's face was the last thing I saw before they pulled me through the door. "You won’t see anything but what we give you."

The door closed, and the world became stairs, descending. Descending down into darkness, into recycled air, and the suffocating absence of everything that had ever made me feel alive.

They dragged me deeper, away from the sunset. Away from my family, Honey, and my little apartment with the plaque.