Pollen's P.O.V.
Lunchtime had officially arrived. When Cleo led me away from the grand lobby and into a secluded corridor, she pushed open a pair of heavy double doors, revealing a magnificent private dining area.
I froze at the entrance, taken aback by the sheer scale of the room. The space was incredibly wide, featuring towering arched windows that cast long streaks of midday sunlight across the polished marble floor. In the center of the hall sat a single, massive dining table made of thick, flawless glass that gleamed like ice.
Surrounding it were beautiful, high-backed velvet chairs with intricate gold frames. There was absolutely no crowd—not a single tourist or family—leaving only a few impeccably dressed staff members standing silently near the walls like stone guards.
I quietly counted the seats out of habit; there were exactly seven chairs lined up on both the left and right sides, with a single master chair anchored at each end.
"I see you like the dining area too. I'm glad," Cleo said, noting my wide-eyed expression with a soft chuckle.
I looked at her and saw her thought bubble materialize in a warm, gentle peach tone:
'It's such a wonderful expression. She really likes this place.'
I was being way too obvious, which was exactly why Cleo thought my expression was wonderful. Her kindness made me glad, but a lingering nervousness still buzzed beneath my skin. The environment was overwhelming, and I couldn't even bring myself to look the rest of the staff members in the eye.
"Sit wherever you like, Miss Anderson. I'll call for the server."
"Thank you, Cleo," I murmured.
Following her instruction, I walked over to the middle section of the long glass table and pulled out a chair on the right side. Sitting down in the vast, empty hall felt completely surreal.
'I'm like living in a castle with my servants, just waiting for my prince to come,'
I thought to myself, a faint, amused smile brushing against my lips as I looked at the grand layout.
A moment later, a line of servers stepped forward, carrying heavy silver trays that filled the air with an intoxicating, savory aroma. The food they arranged on the table was staggeringly elegant.
I kept my eyes glued strictly to the dishes because I didn't want to meet their gaze and accidentally read their thoughts.
At the center sat a platter of jumbo cream shrimp drizzled in a rich garlic butter sauce, right next to a perfectly roasted chicken with glistening oil on top and garnished with fresh rosemary. There were smaller side dishes of perfectly cooked sunny-side-up eggs, crispy thick-cut bacon strips, and artisanal smoked hotdogs. To make the spread even more lavish, they added a bowl of pan-seared scallops in a white wine reduction, a basket of warm truffle-infused bread, and a vibrant Mediterranean citrus salad.
For dessert, they set down a delicate raspberry chocolate tart, a crystal dish holding three scoops of vanilla bean gelato, and a tiered silver stand loaded with a fresh arrangement of crisp green grapes, sliced red apples, and a perfectly ripe banana.
Cleo stepped up beside my chair just as the final silver platters were settled, gesturing toward the incredible feast.
"Please, eat whatever you like, Miss Anderson," Cleo said warmly, offering an encouraging nod.
"If there is any food on this table that you dislike, or if anything doesn't suit your taste, please let me know. We will immediately remove it from the table and change the menu for you."
I looked up at her, my eyes widening slightly at the sheer level of attentiveness.
"Oh, no, please don't worry about changing anything! I'm really not a picky eater. Honestly, everything on the table looks absolutely incredible. I like all of it," I said.
Then I scooped a small portion of the roasted chicken and savory rice onto my plate before reaching for a piece of the cream shrimp to try it first.
"Hmmm, this is so tasty," I mumbled happily. The shrimp was perfectly cooked, bursting with a rich, savory garlic flavor that completely melted in my mouth.
I looked at her again, and the peach mist above her head shifted, revealing a brand-new track of thought:
'I'm glad she likes it. She's so graceful and kind. The CEO must truly be fond of her.'
Cleo smiled in genuine relief, her posture relaxing slightly.
"I am very happy to hear that. Our culinary team wanted to ensure your first meal on the island was absolutely perfect."
I coughed in sudden surprise, almost choking on my food as that phrase echoed in my mind.
'Fond of her?'
I shook my head quickly to dispel the absurd thought, my face burning with a mix of shock and embarrassment.
Seeing my sudden coughing fit, the server immediately stepped forward and brought me a glass of water. I took it then drank it slowly, using the cool liquid to soothe my throat.
"Thank you," I finally managed to say, forcing my voice to sound level as I looked back up at Cleo.
Xyrus's P.O.V.
I finally arrived at Starry Nightsky Island, looking completely different from my usual corporate self. To match the relaxed tropical vibe of the resort, I had ditched my heavy tactical gear for a simple cotton shirt, a pair of casual shorts, dark sunglasses, and a pair of rubber slippers.
Kyles had explicitly told me over a secure text message to wait for him outside instead of coming up to his luxury suite. He wanted us to meet out at the shore where he and I usually went whenever we needed to discuss something important—the private wooden gazebo built right over the edge of the shallow sea.
I walked down the sandy path, stepped onto the gazebo's wooden deck, and sat down on the long wooden bench. I looked out at the vast horizon, noticing that the ocean wind felt unusually calm today, the water lazily lapping against the support stilts beneath my feet.
"This Island doesn't feel real," I said aloud to the empty space.
I hung my hand casually over the back frame of the bench, crossing my legs so one ankle rested over my knee in a loose figure-four shape. I started whistling a soft, slow tune under my breath, letting the steady sea winds brush directly against my skin.
A few minutes later, the sound of light footsteps crunching against the sand signaled his arrival.
I looked back over my shoulder as Kyles stepped into the gazebo, completely matching my casual aesthetic. He was wearing a lightweight summer shirt, matching shorts, a pair of island slippers, a woven sun hat, and dark sunglasses that completely hid his sharp gaze.
Seeing the cold tycoon dressed like a relaxed tourist was always a bizarre sight, but his strong, commanding aura remained entirely intact despite the holiday wardrobe.
Kyles sat down on the other end of the exact same wooden bench, leaving a short distance between us.
He didn't move.
He just stared straight out at the ocean while the heavy sea winds brushed against us, his posture as rigid and unyielding as granite.
I kept my gaze fixed on the horizon and spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.
"Why are you being so bossy again?"
Technically, he wasn't my boss. He was my ultimate best friend, though he rarely acted like it when corporate logistics were on the line.
"You called me thirty-two times this morning and only sent me one short text to come over here," I complained, angling my head toward him.
"You clearly didn't do your job properly," Kyles answered flatly, his voice cutting cleanly through the sound of the crashing waves.
"I did," I defended myself immediately, shifting on the wooden bench.
"Then why didn't Cleo know anything about Pollen's arrival today?"
He finally turned his head to look at me.
Even with his eyes hidden behind those dark sunglasses, I knew exactly what kind of look he was giving me from across the bench. His eyebrows were tightly furrowed, radiating pure irritation.
Oh, shoot.
A sudden realization hit me like a splash of cold ocean water. I had only focused on setting up the main gate security cameras and tracking her terminal gate line on my dashboard.
I completely forgot to patch the operational brief through to the island's front desk.
I quickly looked away, pouting my lips like a caught child.
"I didn't even know you had a staff member named Cleo here."
I was deliberately trying to tease him, using my usual playful deflection instead of outright admitting that I had completely missed an important step in the plan.
"Haa," Kyles let out a sharp, exasperated breath, turning his face back to the sea.
"I had to explain everything to her myself earlier today."
"Well, Miss Cleo is one of your hotel managers," I replied smoothly, trying to ease his temper while still pushing his buttons just enough to avoid a truly tense argument.
"I bet she did a fantastic job with the reception anyway."
I glanced over at him, only to see his hand dip into his summer shirt pocket.
Thwack!
"Owww," I groaned aloud.
A sharp, stinging pain flared right in the center of my forehead. I immediately slapped my palm against the spot to ease the throbbing heat. When I stared down at the wooden deck to see what the hell he had just chucked at me from his side of the bench, I found a small, smooth beach stone bouncing near my slipper.
"You jerk," I muttered, ripping my sunglasses off my face so I could glare at him with maximum impact.
"Pfft... Haha. I knew it," Kyles chuckled softly.
It was a rare, genuine sound that instantly broke his cold demeanor. He stood up from the bench, shoving both of his hands back into his pockets, and stepped closer to the edge of the railing to stare at the deep, clear blue sea spreading out in front of him.
"Judging by how ridiculously late you are today, you probably got drunk yesterday until midnight," he said, his voice dropping into its usual low, calm cadence.
"I was just sleeping tightly," I lied through my teeth, quickly looking back out at the waves to avoid his analytical gaze.
He knew I was lying, of course. This wasn't the first time he had to drag me out of a hangover after a rough night.
"You shouldn't think about her anymore," Kyles added quietly, his tone softening into something heavy with unspoken history.
He was referring to my first love—the one person he knew could entirely dismantle my focus.
Kyles's P.O.V.
"Then can I think of Pollen instead?" Xyrus teased from his spot on the bench, a playful smirk returning to his face.
Thwack!
"Owww!!"
"Why are you carrying stones inside your pocket?!" Xyrus yelled, instantly clutching his face again.
I threw another small stone directly at his forehead, my expression completely flat as I slid my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to look at him over the rims. I raised a single eyebrow, my voice turning dangerous.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on her."
"Easy! I was just kidding," he stammered, raising his hands in mock surrender and backing off against the gazebo chair.
"Don't be such a playboy, Xy. Grow up," I muttered, turning back toward the ocean.
"I don't even have time to flirt because of the dangerous jobs you keep giving me," he grumbled, rubbing his bruised skin.
"You flirt with every single girl you pass by," I countered smoothly.
"Tsk. Why don't you try dating someone for a change?" Xyrus shot back, rolling his eyes as he slipped his sunglasses back on.
"We're in the twenty-first century, Kyles. Live a little."