I always wondered what owning a private island would feel like—being surrounded by the endless blue of the Pacific, with soft golden sands stretching for miles and crystal-clear waters lapping gently against the shore. The kind of place where the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, where the air carried a salty freshness that made you want to take deep, satisfying breaths. Paradise.
But that was a long way off. I wasn't quite there yet. Sure, I was rich, but my wealth fluctuated depending on my investments, projects, and all the endless moving parts. A private island like this one? That was billionaire territory.
For now, though, I could at least enjoy the luxury of visiting. I took a sip from the ice-cold drink in my hand, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat, refreshing me in the midday heat. I let out a contented sigh as I placed the glass back onto the small wooden table beside me.
The sound from my phone snapped me out of my tranquil state.
"Netflix is very happy, Daniel," Adrian's voice came through, clear and professional as always.
"Yes, yes, I know," I replied, stretching my legs out on the lounge chair. I already had a good idea of what he was talking about. The Percy Jackson series had been a massive success—beyond even my expectations. The show had not only brought in a flood of new subscribers to Netflix but had also managed to retain them, keeping engagement levels high. It was a win-win for everyone involved.
"Mr. Hastings has requested a meeting with you," Adrian continued.
I raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly. "For what?"
"He wants to discuss your next project for them," Adrian said smoothly.
I groaned slightly, running a hand through my hair. "That's a long way off."
"Daniel, you told them you'd begin adapting your Ice and Fire books by 2016."
I frowned. "That's still two years away."
"That's exactly my point," Adrian pressed. "If what you described to me is anywhere close to what you actually want in the show, you need to start now. A production of this scale would be immense. The kind of capital it would require… I'm not even sure Netflix would go through with it."
I groaned, rubbing my forehead. I had completely lost track of time. 2013 was almost fucking over. I leaned forward, running a hand through my hair. The last few months had been a blur—Comic-Con, my books, Midas... I swear it feels like July was just last week.
"I still feel like it's July," I said.
"Well, it isn't," Adrian replied dryly. "It's October, Daniel. Time moves forward whether you're paying attention or not."
"Yeah, yeah." I sighed, adjusting the sunglasses on my face. "I suppose you're right. It's time to start laying the groundwork. I mean, do you remember Rome? The HBO show? I mean, this show will be like that as well. I'm sure once the first season takes off, everyone will be on board."
"I do know that show," Adrian said. "It was canceled after two seasons for being too expensive. I like your boundless optimism, Daniel, but sometimes you need to reel it in. And don't forget—Netflix just signed their deal with Marvel to produce those three shows. They're investing a lot into that."
"So what?" I countered. "Adrian, I own four percent of Netflix. Do you have any idea how much that alone makes up of my net worth? How much power I have there?"
"I do. And it's good to remember that there have been attempts to reduce that stake," Adrian reminded me. "Especially the buyback scheme. Some people would love to see you holding less influence over the company."
I sighed. Yeah, I remembered that whole mess. A few investors wanted to reduce my influence. My shares were a sticking point for them. I turned my gaze toward the ocean, my mind racing about the issue. The waves shimmered under the golden afternoon sun, rolling gently onto the shore. The deep blue of the Pacific stretched endlessly, meeting the sky at a hazy horizon.
Everything about Netflix and stocks was forgotten when I saw her.
Margot.
She emerged from the ocean, stepping out of the water with an effortless grace that made time slow to a crawl. Her golden hair clung to her back in damp waves, her sun-kissed skin glistening with droplets of seawater. She was wearing a red bikini—simple yet devastatingly effective. The wet fabric molded to her toned body, her long legs moving with an easy confidence as she strode onto the beach.
Her eyes found mine almost instantly, narrowing slightly.
A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She ran a hand through her wet hair, flipping it back, letting the droplets cascade down her neck and collarbone.
"Daniel?" Adrian's voice crackled in my ear.
I didn't answer.
"Daniel," Adrian repeated, a little more impatiently.
Still, nothing.
"Daniel!"
I jolted back to reality, shaking my head as if snapping out of a spell. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here," I said quickly, tearing my gaze away from Margot and refocusing on the call. "Uh… what were we talking about again?"
Adrian sighed. "Jesus Christ. Did you even hear a word I just said?"
I exhaled, leaning back into the lounger, my free hand rubbing my temple. "Adrian, just set up a meeting with Hastings after John Wick releases. I don't want to juggle too many things at once."
"Ah, oh, and another thing: your cameo in Wonder Woman is going to be cut—" Adrian began, but before he could finish, my phone was yanked straight out of my hand.
"What the—?" I turned just in time to see Margot, standing next to me, holding my phone with a smirk.
Then, with absolutely no hesitation, she tossed it over her shoulder—right onto the beach.
"Hey!" I said, half sitting up.
Margot barely acknowledged my protest, running a towel through her damp hair as she dried off. "You can work after a week," she said casually, as though she hadn't just thrown my phone into the sand.
I should have been annoyed. I should have made some kind of argument.
But… well.
I wasn't exactly focused on arguing at that moment. Not with her standing there like that.
She smirked, tossed the towel onto a nearby chair, and nudged my leg. "You gonna move over?"
I blinked, snapping out of it. "Uh, yeah, yeah—move over, got it," I muttered, scooting slightly to the side on the lounger.
Margot wasted no time, settling right against me and resting her head on my chest as she stretched out.
"You know," she murmured, running a finger lightly down my arm, "Australia is just a small flight away."
I groaned, letting my head fall back against the chair. "Not this again."
She chuckled. "What? I'm just saying. It's been a while since you met my mom, sister, and brothers."
"Your mom loves me. So do your siblings," I pointed out.
Margot grinned. "They do."
"And they can come here if they want, but I'm still not going to Australia," I added.
Margot stretched her arms above her head, letting out a satisfied sigh, but she didn't dwell on the matter—she knew it was a lost cause. "This place is amazing. I still can't believe the entire island is owned by one guy."
I chuckled, watching the waves lazily roll onto the shore. "A lot of billionaires own islands. It's kind of their thing."
Margot turned her head to look at me, her cheek still resting against my chest. "You should buy one, then. Just like this. I wouldn't mind living in a place like this forever."
I let out a laugh. "I'm not that rich. Yet."
She hummed, tracing light patterns on my arm. "Yet," she repeated.
I hesitated for a moment, then added, "Besides, I don't think owning an island would look good in the coming years, especially after… certain things come out."
Margot lifted her head slightly, her brows furrowing. "What things?" she asked, snuggling even closer.
"Oh, you'll see," I said vaguely.
She narrowed her eyes. "I hate it when you do that."
"I know."
Margot let out a soft groan and playfully bit my shoulder in response.
"What is it with you and biting lately?" I asked, remembering last night and this morning.
Margot giggled, then sighed with a hint of disappointment. "We're barely gonna see each other for the next two months," she muttered.
I frowned. "Yeah, I know. And I still say this Tarzan movie is a bad idea."
Margot rolled her eyes. "It's Tarzan. Everyone loves Tarzan."
"The Disney one, sure," I countered. "But this? This is like… I don't even know."
I did know, actually—I'd seen it in my previous life, and I didn't remember it being that good. But Margot was set on doing it, and no amount of skepticism would change her mind.
"If you ask me, that Foxtrot movie you're auditioning for when you get back sounds like a much better choice," I added.
Margot just smiled, shaking her head. "I still believe Tarzan is gonna be a good one."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "You just want to act with Alexander Skarsgård, don't you?"
Her smirk was immediate. "Yes."
I blinked. "Wow. Not even a hesitation."
Margot giggled, completely unbothered.
I scoffed, faking offense. "And how do you think that makes me feel?"
She tilted her head, pretending to think. "I think… you're still more handsome than him."
I gave her a look. "Really?"
She flashed me a cheeky grin. "No."
I gasped, clutching my heart theatrically. "Fuck you."
Margot burst into laughter. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" she said, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.
"Oh, you are kidding," I said as I stood up suddenly and scooped her into my arms effortlessly, ignoring her playful protests.
"Let's see if you're still thinking about Skarsgård in a minute," I teased.
Margot let out a squeal, laughing as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I carried her toward the villa.
It was going to be a fun week.