Daniel hesitated, glancing back at the yacht he had just left. It wasn't the first time he had worked for wealthy clients, but this was different. The island wasn't just private; it felt isolated, like stepping into another world.

The path led him through a grove of palm trees and past a series of low, modern buildings. He caught glimpses of people—women, mostly—lounging on daybeds or floating in pools. Daniel kept his eyes ahead, his jaw tight. He wasn't here for the scenery.

The main house loomed into view, a sprawling structure of glass and steel nestled into the landscape. It was beautiful, in a way, but also intimidating. The kind of place that demanded silence. He was welcomed by a woman in a white dress, waiting at the door.

"Mr. Lear?" she asked, her voice smooth and practiced. "Mr. Bennett is expecting you."

She led him through the house without another word, her footsteps barely making a sound against the marble floors. They stepped onto a terrace overlooking the pool, and there he was.

Michael Bennett, owner of an entire island.

He lounged in a shaded cabana, a silk kaftan open at the chest, his dark beard streaked with gray. A crystal glass dangled from one hand, the ice clinking softly as he raised it to his lips. He looked like a king holding court. Daniel hesitated at the edge of the terrace, suddenly aware of his wrinkled shirt and scuffed boots.

"Ah, Mr. Lear!" Michael's voice boomed across the terrace, cutting through the noise. He didn't stand, just gestured with his glass. "Come, sit. Have a drink."

Daniel approached with his hand already out to shake. Michael didn't take it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his heavy-lidded eyes scanning Daniel from head to toe.

"You're younger than I expected," Michael said, his tone amused. "But Marcus speaks highly of you. Said you're a genius."

Daniel shrugged, lowering his hand. "I just do my job."

Michael laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made the surrounding women laugh too, even though they couldn't possibly know why. "Humble. I like that." He gestured to a chair beside him. "Sit. Relax. You've had a long trip."

Daniel sat, his posture stiff. A woman in a tiny bikini appeared at his side, holding a tray with a glass of something clear and cold. He took it with a nod but didn't drink.

"So," Michael said, leaning forward slightly. "You've heard the stories about this place?"

Daniel frowned. "Stories?"

Michael's grin widened, showing a flash of gold in his teeth. "The rumors. The whispers. People love to talk about what happens on Okoro Cay. They say it's a playground for the rich and shameless. A place where anything goes." He laughed again, a sound that was almost too loud, too sharp. "And you know what? They're right. It's all true. And more."

Daniel shifted in his chair, his grip tightening on the glass. He wasn't sure what to say. "Mr. Bennett, I'm here—"

"Michael," the older man interrupted, waving a hand. "Call me Michael. We're not formal here."

"Michael," Daniel corrected, his voice steady. "I have some notes regarding the specs, the timeline, the—"

Michael cut him off again.

"Relax, kid. We'll talk business tomorrow. First, you need to loosen up." He glanced at the women lounging around the pool, his gaze lingering on one in particular—a tall, dark-haired woman with legs that seemed to go on forever. "Carmen," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Come here."

The woman slowly walked over to Michael's side. She leaned down, her hair brushing his shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. He chuckled, his hand resting on her hip.

"This is Carmen," he said, his voice dripping with casual pride. "She's already halfway to being a doctor. Smart as hell, and let me tell you, she's got the most skillful lips I've ever seen." Carmen smirked, her eyes flicking toward Daniel with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She didn't say a word, but the way she tilted her head made it clear she was used to being talked about like this.

Before Daniel could respond, another woman appeared—a blonde with sun-kissed skin and a swimsuit that left little to the imagination. She slid into the chair beside Michael, her movements fluid and practiced. Michael didn't miss a beat. His hand found its way to her thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin.

"And this one," he said, his voice low and teasing, "is going to be a lawyer. Sharp as a tack. But don't let that fool you—she knows how to have fun."

The blonde smiled, leaning into Michael's touch. Her hand rested on his chest, her fingers playing with the fabric of his kaftan. Daniel shifted in his seat, his grip tightening on the glass he still hadn't touched. He wasn't sure where to look—at Michael, at the women, or the pool beyond the terrace.

"They're not what you think, you know," Michael added, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "They're students. Bright, ambitious, and they like to enjoy themselves. That's all. No strings, no drama. Just... enjoyment." He leaned back in his chair, his hand sliding further up the blonde's thigh, his fingers disappearing under the edge of her swimsuit. She didn't flinch, didn't pull away. If anything, she seemed to lean into it, her breath hitching slightly.

Daniel's jaw tightened. He set the glass down on the table, the ice clinking softly. "Mr. Bennett, Michael, I'm—"

Michael cut him off with a laugh, his hand still moving under the blonde's swimsuit. "Relax, kid. You're wound tighter than a spring. This is how we do things here. You're on island time now. No rush, no stress. Just... let go." He turned to the blonde, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

She nodded, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parting as Michael's fingers worked their magic. "That's right, Baba," she whispered. Michael grinned and leaned in to kiss her. It wasn't a gentle kiss—it was hard, possessive, and full of intent. The blonde moaned softly as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

Daniel's eyes flicked to Carmen, her lip caught between her teeth in a slow, deliberate bite. Her hand rested on his knee, her fingers warm even through the fabric of his pants. He froze, the air suddenly thicker, his pulse quickening.

Daniel stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the stone floor. "I think I'll take a walk," he said, his voice tight.

Michael raised an eyebrow, his hand still resting on the blonde's thigh.

"Suit yourself, kid. See you tomorrow." He turned back to the women, his attention already shifting, as if Daniel's presence had been nothing more than a fleeting distraction.

Daniel left the terrace behind, feeling the cool evening air settle on his skin. He stepped off the stone tile path and onto a sandy trail that curved toward the beach. The island was more serene now, the earlier bursts of laughter and chatter dissipating into the quiet hum of the evening. He liked the solitude, the chance to clear his head after the day's strange introduction to Michael's world.

The trail twisted through a grove of palm trees, their shadows stretching long across the sand as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. Strands of delicate lights were strung between the trees, casting a soft golden glow over the path.

He walked on, the sand shifting softly beneath his feet as he approached a cluster of low boulders. Just beyond them, tucked into a corner of the beach, was what looked like a tiny hut made of driftwood and seashells hanging from the thatched roof. A small sign painted in a blue script read "Sea Breeze Bar." Lanterns lined the entrance, swaying gently in the breeze.

Daniel hesitated at the threshold, the muffled sound of voices and soft music drifting outside. It was quiet and inviting, a clear contrast to the chaotic energy of the main house. He pushed the bamboo curtain aside and stepped inside.

The space was small but cozy, with driftwood stools clustered around a circular bar made entirely of polished seashells. Just enough light spilled over the room to make it feel warm without being too bright. A bartender stood behind the counter, polishing a glass, her blonde curls tucked under a straw hat.

She paused as Daniel approached, her bright blue eyes meeting his with curiosity.

"First time here?" she asked with a welcoming grin.

He eyed the bar's selection of bottles lined up neatly on the shelves, some filled with exotic liquors and others with colorful mixers. "Yeah," he said, sliding onto the stool beside the bar. The wood was smooth under his arms as he leaned in towards her.

"Well, make yourself at home." She slid a coaster towards him and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What can I get started for you?"

He paused for a moment, scanning the selection. Alcohol wasn't usually his first choice, but something about the quiet space and the soothing sound of waves made it hard to resist. Something cold and refreshing. "Do you have a signature cocktail?" He leaned back against the bar, crossing his arms.

The bartender poured a golden liquid into a steel shaker and tossed in sugar cubes and a squeeze of lime juice. "It's a Bahama Mama," she said as she placed the lid on top of the shaker and gave everything a vigorous shake.

"Bahama Mama," he repeated, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on the counter as she poured the drink into a tall glass. She garnished it with a pineapple wedge speared to the rim of the glass.

Daniel sat at the bar, the cool glass of his Bahama Mama sweating in his hand. He stared at nothing in particular, his thoughts still tangled from the earlier encounter with Michael and his entourage. The bartender hummed softly as she wiped down the counter, the jazz music blending with the waves outside. He couldn't shake the unease that clung to him, the feeling that this island was less of a paradise and more of a gilded cage.

The bamboo curtain rustled as someone stepped into the bar. Daniel glanced up, almost absently, and froze.

She was striking—not just beautiful, but magnetic. Her skin glowed under the soft lantern light, and her hair, a cascade of dark curls, framed her face like a halo. She wore a loose blouse that fluttered with her movements and a wavy skirt that swayed as she walked. There was an effortless grace to her, something that made her seem out of place on the island's decadent playground.

Daniel's fingers tightened around the glass as he watched her approach the bartender. Her voice was low and smooth when she spoke, with an accent he couldn't quite place.

"The usual, Tamika."

The bartender—Tamika—grinned. "Coming right up, Mina."

Mina. Daniel repeated the name silently, feeling it settle in his chest. She leaned against the bar, one hip cocked, her fingers drumming lightly on the polished wood. She didn't seem to notice him, or if she did, she didn't care.

Daniel's gaze lingered on her, tracing the curve of her cheek, the way her lips curved faintly as she exchanged quiet words with Tamika.

Her face was a masterpiece of contrasts—high cheekbones softened by full, inviting lips. Her almond-shaped eyes hinted at part of her heritage. Skin like sunlit honey, smooth and unblemished, drew his gaze like a magnet.

He rarely did this—approach women, especially not in places like this. But there was something about her that pulled at him, something he couldn't ignore.

Daniel's fingers traced the rim of his glass, his thoughts drifting back to Michael's words. Let go. He glanced at Mina again, her laughter low and effortless as she leaned into the bar. The idea of those loose girls still unsettled him, but Mina—she was something else. His resolve wavered.

He glanced down at his drink, then drained the rest of it in one go. The alcohol burned his throat, but it gave him the push he needed. He slid off the stool, his movements deliberate, and walked over to her.

"Mina, right?" His voice was steadier than he expected, though his pulse kicked up a notch when she turned to him.

Her eyes met his, sharp and assessing as if she could see right through him.

"Do I know you?"

"No." He held up a hand as if to ward off any misunderstanding. "I just heard Tamika say your name. I'm Daniel."

Her gaze flicked over him, taking in his disheveled shirt, the faint scar above his brow, the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. There was no judgment in her expression, just mild curiosity. "Daniel," she repeated, testing the name. "What brings you to Okoro Cay, Daniel?"

"Work." He shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I'm an engineer, here for a project."

Her eyebrow arched, and he caught the faintest hint of a smile. "You're brave."

"Brave?"

She sipped her drink, her eyes never leaving his. "So, Daniel the engineer, what do you think of the island so far?"

He hesitated, unsure how much to say. "It's... different."

"Different good or different bad?"

Daniel exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Different confusing."

Mina laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest tighten. "Fair enough. It's not for everyone."

"And you?" he asked, emboldened by her response. "What brings you here?"

She tilted her head, considering him for a moment. "I live here."

Daniel set his glass down with a soft clink against the bar, leaning slightly towards Mina. "Living here doesn't sound like a terrible deal," he said, his voice low and easy. "Seems like the kind of place you'd never want to leave."

She tilted her head, her gaze shifting to the bar before returning to him with a slight smile. "Well, it has its perks. Quiet when you need it. And the view isn't bad either."

He chuckled, his grin widening a touch. "The view?" His eyes lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary before glancing out toward the beach. "Yeah, I can see that."

Mina arched an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk. "Smooth."

"Smooth enough," he shot back, his tone light but with just enough charm to make her laugh softly. She shook her head, her hair swaying gently with the motion.

"So, an engineer," she said, leaning back slightly against the bar, her arms folded loosely across her chest. "What kind of projects do you get into?"

"High-stakes stuff," Daniel replied, his voice steady as his gaze met hers. "Private builds mostly. The kind where you can't afford to cut corners."

"Perfectionist, huh?" Mina asked, her tone teasing. "That seems fitting."

He smirked, leaning back in his seat, his posture relaxed, but his eyes still focused on her. "You could say that. What about you? What does a pretty girl do on an exotic island?"

"You could say I'm an architect, making sure people like you don't ruin it," she said with a playful glint in her eyes. "Adding more steel and concrete where it doesn't belong."

Daniel laughed, a rich sound that seemed to ripple through the air between them. "Fair point. But I'm just here to make sure it doesn't fall apart."

"Good to know," Mina said, her tone light but with a hint of something more. She took a sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving his. "So, what's your take on the island so far? Besides the view."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the bar, his voice dropping a little lower. "It's... interesting. Not what I expected. But I'm starting to see the appeal."

"Interesting how?" she asked, her tone curious but with a hint of challenge.

Daniel hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering over her face before he answered. "It's not just the place. It's the people. They're... different. Intriguing."

Mina's lips curved into a small smile, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. "Intriguing, huh? That's a word you don't hear often."

"Maybe I'm just not used to being around people who are so sexually loaded," he said, his voice low and smooth, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She laughed softly, shaking her head, "I can tell."

For the next hour, their conversation flowed effortlessly, each word laced with subtle undertones. Mina's laughter became lighter, her body leaning closer...

***

The door slammed shut behind them, and Daniel pulled Mina close, their lips colliding with a fervor that had been building since they met at the bar. Warmth radiated from her as she gasped into his mouth, hands gripping his hair. The tropical drink on her breath mingled with his own hunger, setting off a chain reaction that left them both reeling.

Their bodies hit the bed in a tangle of limbs and heat. Daniel's hands moved with urgency, fumbling with the clasp of her bra until it gave way, the fabric slipping off her shoulders. Mina's breath hitched as his lips found her nipple, her fingers digging into his back as he explored her.

Her hand slid down his chest, past the waistband of his pants, and wrapped around him. Daniel groaned into her mouth, his hips jerking forward instinctively. She stroked him as they lost their remaining clothes. His eyes were dark with hunger, asking the question.

Mina didn't answer; she just guided him to her, her legs parting to welcome him. In one smooth motion, he pushed inside her, her gasp swallowed by his mouth as their lips crashed together again. She was tight, warm, and he had to fight to keep his rhythm steady, his body trembling with the effort.

Mina's nails raked down his back, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. Her breath came in sharp, broken gasps, her body arching against his as he moved deeper, faster. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound drowned out by their ragged breathing and the wet slap of skin on skin. Daniel's hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her.

He could feel it building, the pressure coiling low in his gut, his muscles tightening as his orgasm approached.

"Yes," she gasped, her voice breaking on his name. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he thrust harder, faster, the bed shaking beneath them. The heat between them was unbearable, the friction driving him closer to the edge with every movement.

And then it happened—his body shuddering as pleasure shot through him like lightning.

Daniel froze, his muscles taut as he stayed as still as he could, a flicker of panic crossing his face. Mina stared up at him, her lips curling into a faint, almost amused smile, her dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. He hesitated, his breath still ragged, uncertainty knotting in his chest.

She smiled up at him, her lips curling into something almost shy, but her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "You... alright," she whispered.

He chuckled, brushing her hair back before kissing her forehead. "Yeah."

Before she could reply, he pulled back, but never left her wet cove entirely and positioned himself again, enamored by the sight of her underneath him. His eyes, dark with intent, met hers as he began moving again.

She gasped as he filled her, fingers digging into his back, matching his strokes. Her breath came in ragged bursts, lips parting in a moan that tightened his chest with something dangerously close to affection.

He kissed her fiercely, mouths pressing together as though words were no longer needed. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and he groaned as she tightened around him, sending shivers down his spine. Each thrust sent sharp ripples of pleasure, teetering on the edge of pain.

Mina froze mid-thrust, pushing him back with a hand to his chest. Her eyes were wide, unreadable, but her lips transformed into a wicked smile before she rolled off him, straddling him in one fluid motion. She lowered herself onto him, the pressure tighter, more deliberate. Her back arched, fingers digging into his chest as she moved with a slow, steady rhythm that left him breathless.

Daniel's eyes locked onto Mina's body, each movement a slow, deliberate tease. Her big breasts swayed as she moved, their weight dipping and rising with the rhythm of her hips. The skin was smooth, golden in the dim light, and he watched, transfixed, as her fingers curled around his wrists, holding him still as she rode him harder. Her pussy lips were tight, gripping his shaft like a vice, slick and warm, pulsing with every thrust she gave him.

Her hands slid down his chest, settling on his hips, guiding him as she moved. Her eyes, dark and raw, met his, lips parting in a silent plea that made him twitch inside her. He groaned, fingers tightening around her waist as she rode him harder, faster. Her body trembled, tension coiling tight as she neared the edge.

When she came, her eyes fluttered shut, mouth parting in a silent scream. He didn't stop, driving her over the edge until she clung to him. He closed his eyes, spilling himself deep inside her.

They collapsed, skin slick with sweat, the weight of what they'd done pressing down. She curled against him, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

"That was... something," she murmured.

He didn't answer, letting the silence settle, her warmth pressed against him.

***

The next morning, Daniel woke up to an empty bed. A glance at the clock made his stomach drop. He was late, late for the meeting Michael had scheduled, late for everything. The thought sent a spike of panic through him, but it was quickly drowned by the memory of last night, the way Mina had kissed him like he meant something to her.

When he finally reached the meeting room, Michael stood by the window with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a smirk. "Well, well," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Looks like you had some fun after all."

Daniel hesitated at the doorway, his jaw tightening. He didn't answer; he just stepped inside and took the seat closest to the door. The room was quiet, expectant.

The silence stretched between them until a soft laugh echoed through the space. Daniel exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I was working late."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "That's one way to put it."

The doors opened with a soft click. Daniel's breath caught in his throat as Mina stepped into the room, her presence a shock that knocked the air from his lungs. He blinked, certain he was still half-asleep, but no—she was real, standing there like she belonged. She looked calm, composed—like she hadn't spent the night tangled in Daniel's sheets, a secret only they knew. She wore a light red sundress that clung to her curves, the fabric fluttering slightly with each step.

Michael turned, a smug grin spreading across his face as he clapped a hand on Mina's shoulder. "This is my daughter, Mina," he said, his voice thick with pride. "Our lead architect."

The revelation hit Daniel like a punch to the gut. He hadn't thought for a second she'd be involved in this project—hadn't even considered it. His mouth went dry, his pulse hammering against his ribs.

Mina smiled, her dark eyes flicking toward him with a knowing glint. "Thanks, Dad," she said, her tone light but edged with something sharp. Then she turned and extended her hand.

Daniel hesitated for a split second—just long enough for the silence to stretch between them—but then he reached out, his fingers brushing hers. Her skin was warm, impossibly so, and when their hands met, it felt like a spark had jumped between them. He forced himself to focus, to keep his face neutral.

"Nice to meet you, I'm looking forward to working closely with you," she said, her voice smooth, practiced. She didn't break eye contact, but there was only a tad of recognition in her eyes, buried under professionalism.

Daniel swallowed hard and nodded. "You too."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, let's do this. I have other things to take care of. Mina, you are on." He turned toward the window, already dismissing them.

The air was thick with tension as Daniel watched Mina, his mind racing with questions about her true identity.