"I'm so unhappy about leaving, Maria," Crystal whined, standing opposite Maria in blue jean dungarees and a black top in the living room, while one of the estate security men assisted with getting some of her baggage down to her car.
Maria yawned, still in satin grey pajamas. It was early on Saturday morning—just before 10 A.M.
The weather promised a fair day, a spillover from yesterday's rain.
And she was grateful Crystal was leaving too.
"It's alright," Maria replied with a smile. "I'm just glad you got yourself figured out despite all you've been through."
Crystal placed her hands on Maria's shoulders, her eyes hopeful. "Just know that no matter what, I will never judge you for anything."
Maria grimaced, confused but before she could speak, Crystal pecked her and turned, heading out the open door.
"I'll see you around Mapla, baby," she said, before heading down the short driveway where her car was parked.
Maria walked slowly to the door, giving Crystal a subtle wave.
Crystal waved back, got into the driver's seat, and drove off.
The middle-aged, bald estate security man still stood by the door.
"She hasn't tipped you?" Maria asked, turning to him.
"No ma'am," he replied respectfully.
She sighed—she was the one who had called for help, after all.
"Please hold on," she said, then closed the door and headed inside for her phone.
She was certain she didn't have any cash in the house and hoped the security man would accept a transfer.
Maria quickly climbed up the stairs, grabbed her phone, and hurried back down.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," she said, opening the door again. "I'm hoping you accept transfer payments."
"It's okay ma," the man replied with a smile.
Maria internally rolled her eyes, knowing that his smile meant he was expecting more than a usual tip.
She lowered her head to her phone.
As she entered her passcode, an email notification popped up.
She ignored it for now, focusing on the transfer.
"Thank you," the man said, his smile widening as he gave a brief respectful bow.
"You're welcome," Maria replied, then the man left.
She closed the door behind her and turned her attention back to her phone, tapping on the email.
The sender made her breath catch first: @milesgenova
Then the message.
My chauffeur will be picking you up at 7pm. A casual fit is fine.
See you in the evening. Maria.
Maria frowned, anger mixing with uncertainty as she lowered her phone, clenching her fists.
The sleep that she had wanted to return to vanished instantly.
Why was he doing this?
Didn't he care about being caught?
She exhaled as she strolled to the longest sofa in the living room and sat. Her eyes caught the complimentary card Kayden had given her on the table.
Kayden had mentioned that he and his mom were interested in what Maria had to offer beyond GOATASTE.
She had been polite, accepting the card after he dropped her off—but it also meant to them that she would think about it.
And now, Miles was inviting her out again. And as usual, she had no choice.
Bound by the project—and whether she liked it or not—by her anticipation of seeing him again.
The memory of his head buried in her breasts made her flush in embarrassment, especially with how she had held him closer, enjoying the attention of his mouth.
She lay slowly across the sofa, resting her head on a throw pillow, inhaling the fresh air drifting in through the open window.
Perhaps after the project, she would quit. See what Mrs Ashford, Kayden's mother, had to offer.
But she feared more about surviving the project first.
About surviving Miles Genova.
**
The slice of sunlight from the grey curtains pestered Daniel until he opened his eyes, squinting as he groaned.
He lay in the bed in his apartment, his body protesting from last night's drinking and the exhaustion from the launch.
He turned his face, reconsidering leaving his bed until his eyes caught the bare back of a woman sitting at the edge.
The warm light of his luxurious bedroom accentuated her smooth skin and the curve of her spine.
The throw blanket was clutched in front of her.
Dahlia.
Daniel smiled. He hadn't been dreaming—they had actually had sex.
"Good morning, beautiful," he said, still snuggling into the pillow.
She flinched and looked back at him, her hair messy, her eyes flickering with regret and shame.
Daniel immediately got up and moved closer, concerned—but she turned away.
"This was a mistake," she whispered, clutching the blanket tighter.
Daniel frowned.
He was already having a shitty week. Especially with the annoying fuss over Maria's so-called project.
Being with Dahlia had been the best part of it—and now she sat there regretting.
He leaned forward, over her shoulder even as she looked the other way, inhaling her scent. It tempted him to want to relive the feel of her body and how she had responded to him.
"It didn't feel like a mistake," he whispered near her ear, his lips almost brushing her neck before she stiffened and stood, still holding onto the blanket around her body.
"Of course it didn't," she scoffed, glaring at him. "But I am not one of the gullible girls you lie to."
"I'm not—" Daniel began, but hesitated, he really liked Dahlia and the sex didn't feel fleeting.
He had always wanted her to be his but…
"You can't lie to yourself at this point, either," she continued, her voice trembling.
Was she really going to cry because she slept with him?
Did she really hate it that much?
She turned toward the bathroom, but Daniel caught her wrist from where he knelt on the bed.
For the first time, he felt genuinely dirty—deep inside.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said, swallowing hard.
She faced him, the anger still lingering. "It's not about me, Daniel. It is the fact that you will never change. If I didn't call you out, you'd be having another great morning without remembering that you have a girlfriend."
She tried to pull away, but Daniel held on.
"It's not like that. I've been going through a lot lately. I didn't purposely get carried away."
"I really don't care," she said, pulling harder but—Daniel pulled her into a hug.
He couldn't lose her—not now.
"Please, Dahlia," he whispered into her shoulder "Things are not as they seem with Maria."
Dahlia stilled.
"What do you mean?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He sighed with his head lowered, carefully considering the thought.
"She's really mean, Dahlia. All she ever does is try to control me."
"What?"
Daniel continued before sinking back on his knees onto the bed with fingers rubbing his temples. "I'm ashamed I've never said this but…"
He hesitated, then looked at her with feigned guilt.
"Maria seduced me. I never wanted to date her. I'm just a man and I stupidly fell. And since then, she's tried to control everything in my life, even the company."
"I'm not sure…"
"I tried to keep up," Daniel cut in softly. "On the outside, I'm the bad one but I'm just trying to regain control. And now she's leaving me too."
"I don't understand," Dahlia said, concern creeping in.
"Now that Miles is around," he continued bitterly, "she doesn't care anymore. She says he's better than me. She taunts me with it."
"My God…"
Daniel exhaled with his head down.
"And now she's totally ignoring me because…because of him."
Dahlia looked uncertain. "She doesn't seem like—"
"You don't…believe me too." Daniel said, sitting back.
She moved closer. "Daniel, if this is true…why didn't you just sack her?"
He paused.
"Miles won't let me," he said. "She has that project. But I loved her and all she did was control and dump me once she found someone better."
Dahlia hugged him, his head to her chest. "No one is better than another. I'm sorry you went through that."
He wrapped his arms around her, hiding his triumph.
"And I've tried to tell Miles, but…he's slipping because of her too and she has a greater advantage because he's the type who goes for women like her."
"It's okay," Dahlia murmured, stroking his hair.
Daniel leaned into her, satisfied.
Snuggling deeper in her chest.
"I just needed you," he said softly. "You're the only one who understands me."
**
Maria stepped out of the black Mercedes onto the quiet shoreline.
The wind caught her hair, greeting her with fresh air that made her smile despite herself.
The sun was already sinking along the horizon, soft waves rolling gently.
"Ma'am," the chauffeur said, extending his arm.
That alone reminded her why she was here in the first place.
Maria hooked her arm into his, the sand heavy beneath her feet as the chauffeur guided her along the shore.
In the distance, a dock stretched out—where a large white yacht waited.
She suddenly felt unsure about her pink jumpsuit.
Miles should have told her the theme at least.
At the dock, a young woman in a black dress and white apron, stood waiting, her hair neatly packed back, no makeup save for glossed lips.
She politely bowed briefly, a smile on her face as she received Maria from the chauffeur.
Maria hesitated as she climbed the dock's short stairs, the sun already halfway set.
Her eyes drifted ahead to the yacht, its big windows glowing with warm light blooming from within.
"Welcome Miss Maria. I'm Vanessa. I'll be escorting you to Mr Miles. Please follow me." The woman said, turning as she began walking toward the yacht.
Maria followed, skeptical, wondering if Miles had invited her to the event on purpose without giving her a theme.
Maybe to embarrass her like Daniel mostly did.
Her steps felt heavier as they crossed the sleek gangway, softly lit from beneath with cream-toned lights, and entered the yacht.
Inside, the air shifted.
The hallway was lined with padded beige walls, warm round lights glowing softly from above.
Maria gulped as Vanessa closed the metal door behind them with a soft click.
The air conditioner carried a faint minty scent now, undisturbed by the outside breeze.
"Come with me, ma," Vanessa said, already moving.
Maria followed, confused as the space felt very quiet.
Was it soundproof?
They walked past glossy brown doors with gold knobs, lined neatly on both sides.
By the time Vanessa had reached the door she was leading Maria to, Maria had already counted four doors on each side.
Maria exhaled, clutching her purse.
Nervous to face a crowd, she found herself hoping strangely that her body might distract from her clothes.
Vanessa stepped inside.
Maria followed—
—and paused.
A bedroom.
A neatly arranged bed stood at the center, white sheets crisp, a beige blanket folded perfectly at the foot.
The walls were padded too, soft. No ceiling light—only two warm wall lights glowing gently on either side.
Oval windows framed the darkening sky beyond, standing on each side of the bed, with a velvet beige headboard.
A cream light rug lay under the bed, wider than the vinyl floor beneath.
"Wow," Maria breathed, stepping in slowly, "why are we in a bedroom?"
The door closed behind her with a soft thud.
"This way ma," Vanessa said instead.
She led her to the bottom side of the room, in front of a dull brown glossy flat wood panel with a single deep knob at the point where it protruded from the wall.
Vanessa grabbed the knob and slid it open, immediately revealing three wooden hangers holding red, green, and black three-in-one bikini sets.
A mirror glowed with a soft outline from its edges within.
Maria's eyes widened.
"Do you want me to help you, or would you prefer I wait outside until you need me?" the woman said.
"Uhm," Maria replied, almost speechless, before turning to her.
"What sort of party is this?" Maria asked.
"Oh," Vanessa's face paused, a little quizzical. "There is no party, ma'am. It's just you and Mr Miles."
Maria lowered her gaze and bit her lip. It was a private meeting.
"Thank you, Vanessa. You can wait outside. I'll call if I need help with anything else
"Yes, ma'am," Vanessa said before she exited the room.
Maria's hand skimmed the outfits. Red had a short mesh wrap over its bikini.
Green had a short skirt over it, its fabric was brighter than red's—almost neon.
Then black, with a long mesh skirt and a plain black set with a gold clasp at the center of the bra.
None of these were even decent at all. Her hand shook as she picked the black from the wardrobe and walked slowly to set them on the bed.
She reached for the zipper of her jumpsuit, pulling it down slowly, before placing it aside, along with her underwear.
Maria picked up the bikini, blushing briefly again. He was such a lewd man.
How had he picked bikinis for her to choose from?
She clasped the top around her breasts, tying the straps around her neck before reaching for the panties, which of course slid all the way in between her buttocks, leaving most of her cheeks bare.
Almost a perfect fit.
Maria picked the mesh skirt, hoping it was not as transparent as it looked before she slid it on.
The material clung softly to her body, almost soothing as she turned to the mirror inside the wardrobe to check.
The bikini looked beautiful, save for the parts it left exposed, and the mesh didn't do much to conceal her now bare hips and thighs.
As she began arranging her former clothes into the wardrobe, a gentle knock came from the door.
"Do you need any help, ma?" Vanessa's voice came.
"Come in," Maria said as she placed the last hanger on the rack.
"You look really beautiful," Vanessa said with a genuine smile, and Maria smiled faintly in return.
She followed Vanessa out, further down the hall, up a short teak wood staircase.
The wind was already greeting her before she fully ascended to the open space.
Her eyes first caught the beautifully set table—bunches of red grapes sitting on a silver tray in the middle, surrounded by four covered dishes and two glasses of clear wine.
A bouquet of red roses sat on one of the patio chairs opposite its pair across the table.
Then her eyes drifted through the open space—
and her breath caught the moment she saw him.
Miles.
At the edge of a long rectangular pool set at the very center of the deck, the water reflecting the dimming sky in broken gold.
Wearing a loose blue vintage shirt and white knickers, legs dipped in the water, a drink resting beside him.
Already watching her.