Chapter 83

Chapter 83

Hawaii is fucking beautiful. Almost makes me forget about my life falling apart. Almost.

I stretch my arms over my head, standing on the balcony of our private villa as the last bits of the sun bleed into the horizon.

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The salty breeze tickles my skin, and if I close my eyes long enough, I can pretend I'm just another girl on vacation, not someone constantly fighting against the weight of my past. Not someone questioning if the man who holds me every night loves me or the ghost of someone else.

Speaking of said man, he's currently kneeling between my legs, his mouth wrecking me, his tongue moving with the kind of precision that makes me think he'd worship at the altar of my body forever if I let him.

My fingers twist into his hair as I rock against his face, and he growls, dragging me even closer.

"Fuck, Enoch-"

He hums against me, and I come apart with a sharp cry, arching against the railing behind me. My legs tremble as he presses one last kiss to my inner thigh before pulling back, his lips and chin glistening.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at me like he just had the best meal of his life.

"That should keep you satisfied for the next hour," he mutters, smirking.

I shove at his shoulder, breathless. "Cocky bastard."

"Only when it comes to making you fall apart," he quips, standing and dragging me into his arms. His chest is warm against mine, his heartbeat steady. "Now, let's get cleaned up before I end up throwing you over this railing and making a show for the entire island."

I roll my eyes, but I let him lead me inside. He tugs me into the massive bathtub, and we sink into the hot water together, my back pressed against his front as he lazily trails his fingers up and down my arms.

For a while, there's nothing but the soft splashes of water and our steady breathing. I try to pretend that everything is normal, that I'm not seconds away from drowning in my own thoughts.

Tonight's plan is simple-dinner on the beach, front row seats to a fire knife dance performance. A traditional luau experience. Something fun. Something distracting.

We get ready after our bath, and I choose a dress that clings to my body in all the right places, the soft, floral fabric stopping just above my knees.

A thin strap ties behind my neck, leaving my shoulders and back bare. I tuck a hibiscus flower behind my ear, glancing at my reflection. I look... happy. Carefree.

Like a girl who isn't questioning everything.

Enoch, now dressed in just loose Hawaiian-print shorts, watches me from the bed, head tilted. "You look fucking edible."

I smirk. "I don't think that's the goal, but thanks."

He crooks a finger at me, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "Why don't we skip dinner and stay in?"

I roll my eyes, but my stomach flips when he stands, crossing the room with slow steps. His fingers skim the curve of my waist before he grips it fully, pulling me against him. His lips find my neck, and I shiver when he murmurs, "I could spend all night on my knees for you."

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A knock at the door saves me from completely melting into him. Holy fuck, I'm down bad.

"Room service," a voice calls from outside.

I immediately wriggle free,

Enoch groans, falling baching my dress. "I'll get it."

the bed. "Or we could ignore it."

want them thinking we're

get

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the cart inside. I thank him quickly before he leaves, and Enoch only hums in approval when

how tragic. You'd have to work

leave the villa, stepping onto the sand where the luau is already in full swing. Fire pits glow, casting warm flickers across

air.

performers are already preparing for the show, their torches illuminating their faces as they spin them

course, Enoch fucking stands

without his usual imposing suits, he draws attention. His bare chest- muscled, tanned, and currently glistening under the firelight-is turning far too many heads. And not just from women. Even a few men are eyeing him, their gazes

surface, lets out a low, territorial growl

an arm around my waist

much as they are," I mutter, shooting a glare at a woman

kiss to my

my irritation when the performance begins, my breath catching as flames whip through the air, the dancers

The moment is perfect.

table. The name flashing across the screen sends ice

silences the call without hesitation, flipping his phone

should let it go. Should enjoy the night. But Brooke's voice slithers

poisonous whisper. He's

right now?" I ask, keeping my voice light.

his head toward me, expression unreadable. "Just you." Then, in a

face heats. Not what I

ask again, his phone vibrates

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Chapter 83

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the message just a bit, my

for her. His

standing, excusing himself from the table. "This is uh- important, I'll come back

gone, vanishing into the night with his phone

my vision

else takes

Brooke.

The devil.

her chin propped on her palm like she's reveling in my unraveling.

right,” she murmurs, swirling the wine in her glass. “Enoch's still looking for her childhood

itself in my throat. My grip tightens around my own untouched drink, the condensation slick against my fingers. But I don't

voice is steady. Good. "You

it's funny," she says, "How you fought so hard for him, how you thought you were special, only to be a convenient substitute. The girl before you, however. She was everything to him. She still is." Something sharp twists in my gut. I lift my chin, refusing to let her see me break. "You talk a lot of shit for someone who wasn't even in the picture," I say, cocking a

a slow breath and risk a glance toward Enoch. He's across the room, phone to his ear, eyes locked on mine the moment I look up. His brows furrow. He silently

a smile and mouth back, A

he nods, motioning for

and hums. "Do you know what

the

of things." I reply. No, I

of her glass, savoring the

He had his head displayed on the borders until it rotted away for

stomach turns. I know Enoch's ruthless. But hearing it like this? In past tense, as it's already

she starts off, "He was the one who tried

you, Brooke."

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Sat, 29 Mar

Chapter 83

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