The sun had barely climbed above the horizon when Nick opened his eyes.
A soft breeze slipped through the sheer curtains of Ivana's villa. Her legs were tangled with his, the scent of last night still heavy in the sheets perfume, sweat, and wine.
She was still asleep. Peaceful, lips parted slightly.
Nick brushed a kiss on her bare shoulder and carefully slipped out of bed, moving like a thief in the morning light.
No calls.No words.No promises.
By 6:00 AM, he was already back behind the wheel of the black SUV, sunglasses on, one hand casually gripping the steering wheel as if nothing had happened.
Business as usual.
When he pulled into De Haven's private parking area, the hotel was just beginning to stir. A few staff prepping for the breakfast shift, sprinklers humming in the garden, birds chirping like a Balinese alarm clock.
Nick stepped out, shirt from last night buttoned lazily, hair a little out of place, and the scent of someone else's perfume still clinging faintly to his collar.
He walked through the garden pathway near the side lobby just in time to see a figure walking toward him.
Leea.
Her hair was tied in a low messy bun, a light sweater thrown over her uniform. Her eyes looked sleepy, skin bare without makeup but she was still, somehow, annoyingly pretty in that natural, effortless kind of way.
Nick's eyes scanned her from head to toeAnd just like that, his imagination started working again.
What would she sound like… half-asleep, half-naked, curled up next to him like last night never ended?
He cleared his throat.
"Morning," he said, voice a bit too casual.
Leea blinked at him, clearly surprised. "Oh. Good morning, Mr. CEO."
Nick grinned. "Rough night?"
She yawned lightly and nodded. "Let's say my bed is calling my name harder than any guest did tonight."
She took a step closer to pass by him but then paused, eyes narrowing.
Her gaze flicked to his neck.
Nick tilted his head slightly. "Something wrong?"
Leea raised an eyebrow and gave a lazy smirk. "You've got… lipstick. Right there."
She pointed to the pale skin of his neck still stained bold red.
Nick instinctively reached up, wiped it with his fingers, then looked at the smudge.
"Ah," he said without shame. "Occupational hazard."
She shook her head, trying to hold back a grin, and started walking again.
"See you around, Mr. Van Loon," she said over her shoulder.
Nick watched her go, her steps slow with exhaustion but still graceful.
Something stirred again inside himDesire, yes.
From the back corridor, Joe, the hotel's longest-serving housekeeping staff, rolled his towel cart with the confidence of a man who'd seen everything and remembered all of it, with added details.
He had sharp eyes.A sharper nose for scandal.And an unshakable belief that no good gossip should ever go to waste.
As he turned toward the VIP wing, he stopped dead in his tracks.
There, not twenty meters away, in the garden near the lobby, stood none other than…
New CEO. Slightly wrinkled shirt. Hair that said "I just got out of someone's bed, and I liked it."
Standing in front of him,
Leea, the soft-spoken night shift operator. Still in uniform. Sleepy eyes. Messy bun. Pretty, even half-dead from fatigue.
Joe's eyebrows nearly flew off his face.
He watched eagle-eyed as Leea pointed at Nick's neck. Nick looked confused. She laughed.He laughed.
And then… she walked away.
Joe nearly dropped his towel cart.
Five minutes later, Joe burst into the staff pantry, eyes wild with purpose.
"Guys," he hissed, "you will not believe what I just saw."
Nia, the front desk receptionist, was halfway through her morning coffee. "If this is about your ghost sighting near room 212 again"
"No, no, no. This is bigger," Joe said, waving his hand like he was about to deliver a TED Talk.
"Leea.""Mr. CEO.""Garden.""Lipstick."
The room fell silent.
Nia blinked. "Lipstick?"
Joe nodded, grinning like he'd uncovered state secrets. "I saw it. Right on his neck. She pointed at it. He smiled. And get this he didn't even wipe it off. Just… took it like a champ."
One of the kitchen staff gasped dramatically. "Wait… are they a thing?!"
Joe's eyes widened. "You think that's wild? Last week I swear I saw Mr. Nick hugging his handsome neighbour. Early morning. Arms. Around. Each. Other."
Silence again.
Then chaos.
"So you're saying… he's into both?""Are we talking triangle? Like a real triangle?""Oh my god, this is like those dramas my mom watches"
Nia rolled her eyes. "Can we not invent fanfiction before breakfast?"
Joe leaned in, lowering his voice. "I'm just saying... man shows up with lipstick on his neck, has a moment with our sweetest operator, and hugged his handsome neighbour suspiciously warmly? The signs are everywhere."
One of the bellboys whispered, "I knew he was too hot to be straight."
Joe looked around like a director on a film set. "My friends. This is not a love triangle this is a love hexagon. I feel it in my bones."
Just outside the staff room, Anton, the soft-spoken security guard, passed by, heard enough to groan quietly to himself.
He paused by the door, sipping his hot tea, and muttered under his breath:
"Sometimes it's just lipstick. Sometimes it's just friendship.But Joe? Joe sees drama in a dropped napkin."
And then he kept walking. Calm, unbothered, and fully aware that whatever Joe saw…would be all over the hotel by lunch.
Despite all the buzz surrounding lipstick stains and CEO charm, there was one person at De Haven who remained… a complete mystery.
Marteen.
Tall, blonde, elegant.Stayed in one of the most luxurious private suites.Rarely seen. Always polite. Never wore a name tag.
Naturally, most of the hotel staff assumed one thing because of Joe's gossips:
He must be some extremely rich guest flown in by Mr. Nick. That guy Mr. Mystery from suite 902 He's not just a guest. He's Nick's partner. Like, partner partner.
But only a few staff members actually knew the truth. Marteen was the new owner.
Ruby, the general manager, had received a formal email weeks prior, along with instructions to keep it confidential until Marteen announced himself.
Nia, ever observant and slightly nosy in the most elegant way, had noticed the booking under "M. van Rooyen" and connected the dots faster than a Sudoku master. Also Leea and Dessy.
***
10 AM, Marteen had officially surrendered to the art of relaxation.
He lay face down in one of the private spa rooms, breathing slowly as soft hands moved expertly along his shoulders, smoothing away every bit of tension. The scent of eucalyptus filled the air. The warmth of the hot stones placed along his spine sent waves of comfort through him, almost making him fall asleep.
Balinese flute music played softly in the background. Everything was calm, fragrant, perfectly controlled.
"This," he murmured, "might be the first moment I've exhaled in three years."
The therapist smiled politely, probably used to stressed-out foreigners melting on the table like ice cream.
The treatment ended with a slow, deliberate flower bath seven kinds of blooms floating around him in warm water. Hibiscus, frangipani, rose petals, jasmine. The colors swirled like poetry. It was, in all honesty, slightly ridiculous and yet... deeply peaceful.
He didn't care.
He loved it.
After dressing in his light shirt and linen pants again, Marteen stepped out of the spa feeling lighter than air. Almost human again. His mind quiet, his skin warm, his thoughts...
...curious.
That voice.
The one from last night the one that answered his call, joked about geckos, and promised he'd smell like a garden for days.
He hadn't stopped thinking about it.
It wasn't just sweet. It was familiar.Too familiar.
So instead of heading straight to his suite, Marteen made a slow, subtle detour through the side hallway until he reached the discreet corner labeled:CALL SERVICE – STAFF ONLY.
He paused.
Then leaned slightly… just enough to peek through the half-open door.
And there she was.
It was Aunty Nora.
Typing slowly with two fingers, and humming a gospel tune from the '90s.
Marteen blinked.
He stared.
He tilted his head.
Then…
He chuckled to himself.
Out loud.
A soft, amused, slightly embarrassed kind of laugh the kind you make when you realize you've been imagining the wrong woman for twelve hours.
So that was her?The mysterious voice?The woman who made him smile in the middle of the night?
He shook his head and walked away, muttering under his breath, "Well done, Marteen. You were clearly enchanted by a woman who probably already married with many kids."
The midday sun poured down on De Haven's front entrance, where guests checked in, tourists lounged by the lobby fountain, and birds chirped with suspicious levels of judgment.
In the middle of it all stood Ruby, the hotel's general manager poised, polished, and power-walking with purpose.Right beside her: Joe, puffing slightly as he dragged a ridiculously oversized rose-gold suitcase that looked more suited for a two-year European tour than a weekend in Bali.
And just a few steps ahead?
Carlijn.
Blonde. Stunning. Draped in a silky beige dress that screamed "I don't sweat, I glow."She moved like someone who knew the weight her beauty carried and expected the world to accommodate it.
They were on their way to Suite 902.
Joe, meanwhile, was dying inside.
Not from the weight of the suitcase.But from the drama he could already feel brewing.
When the door to Suite 902 opened, Marteen stood there shirt rolled to his elbows, hair a little damp from a recent shower, expression... unreadable.
"Carlijn?" he said, surprised, though not entirely delighted.
She stepped in without waiting for an invite and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I figured you wouldn't respond to my texts, so I came in person."
Behind her, Joe made a soft gasp sound. Ruby shot him a look.
Marteen smiled politely. "Well. You made quite the entrance."
Inside, the air thickened.Carlijn tossed her sunglasses onto the table like she owned the entire island.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she added, though it was clear she didn't care if she was.
Marteen's lips twitched. "Not at all. I was just… enjoying the silence."
Joe, now walking back to the staff area with Ruby, was practically vibrating with excitement.
"So…" he whispered."Who is she?"
Ruby exhaled slowly. "His fiancée."
Joe stopped walking.
"Fiancée?!" he whisper-yelled. "As in, engaged?!"
"Yes, Joe. Engaged. Please don't start."
But Joe's mind had already left the building.
By the time he reached the pantry, the story had mutated beautifully.
"Guys. GUYS. That woman? The one in heels and attitude? she's here to claim that handsome man from Mr. CEO."
The staff gasped.
Nia rolled her eyes so hard it almost counted as exercise."Joe, you need help."
Joe replied. "This love triangle is getting spicy."
Back in Suite 902, Marteen stood by the window, watching the waves crash in the distance while Carlijn unpacked one designer outfit at a time.
In his chest, something tightened.
He should feel comfort.He should feel grateful.But all he felt was...
Trapped.