Punch at the Restaurant

Kaelen pulled away from Nadia's embrace without any rush. His fingers brushed her bare shoulder before he turned his attention toward the waiting resort manager. He stepped across the sunlit wooden boards, closing the distance between us, and gripped my elbow with firm fingers.

"I apologize for the delay, Mr. Briggs," Kaelen said, his voice smooth and untroubled. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Vesper."

Mr. Briggs did not bat an eye. He gave a polished hospitality smile and inclined his head toward me. "A pleasure, Mrs. Vance. Your bungalow is ready, and your keys are waiting at the front desk."

The resort porters moved in to take our luggage from the yacht. Nadia cast a lingering look at Kaelen, her dark eyes glittering with amusement, before turning on her heel and strolling down the sun-bleached walkway toward the private cabanas.

Kaelen tightened his grip on my hand, pulling me along the stone path that wound through palm trees toward the resort lobby. "Keep moving, my wife," he muttered under his breath.

His touch sent a dull ache through my knuckles. My past relationships had been scarce and filled with disappointment, but nothing prepared me for the sickening knots tying my stomach into loops right now. I kept my head high, staring past the manicured flowerbeds at the vast expanse of ocean. I refused to let this arrogant man see how easily he could rattle me.

Inside the grand open-air lobby, vaulted teak ceilings caught the ocean breeze. Guests in designer resort wear wandered between marble pillars while uniformed staff catered to their needs.

Kaelen released my hand near a cluster of wicker armchairs. "Stay right here. Do not wander off."

He walked straight toward the reception counter. A young woman with golden-brown hair and a fitted uniform looked up, her face brightening into an eager smile the moment she recognized him.

Kaelen leaned over the mahogany counter, offering her a low, suggestive grin. He took her outstretched hand, bringing it to his lips, and pressed a lingering kiss against her knuckles. The receptionist let out a breathless giggle, leaning closer to whisper something against his cheek as she handed him a heavy bronze key card.

I turned away, staring at the bright island banners fluttering in the wind outside. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth so hard. I reminded myself of the cold reality: my name was Rose. This luxurious world did not belong to me, and neither did Kaelen Vance. I was an imposter hired to keep a scandal at bay until he located his runaway bride. The moment real Vesper returned, I would be discarded back onto the cold pavement where he found me.

"You look lost. Pick up your feet, we have things to settle in our quarters." Kaelen's sharp voice cut through my thoughts. He pressed a hand against the small of my back, guiding me firmly out of the lobby and down a secluded stone path flanked by thick tropical foliage.

We stopped in front of an isolated private bungalow nestled between sea grape trees. He inserted the bronze key into the lock and pushed the heavy carved door wide open.

I stepped into the spacious living area, but my steps faltered when I looked past the sheer partition curtains into the master bedroom. There was only one king-sized bed dominating the center of the room, piled high with crisp white linen and silk pillows.

"Wait," I said, pointing toward the solitary bed. "Are we supposed to share this room?"

Kaelen let out a dry, mocking laugh as he kicked the door shut behind us. "Did the sea air rot your brain, or did you forget why we are here? We are legally married, sweetheart. We are on our honeymoon. Sharing a bed is what married couples do. Did you expect me to book you an adjacent suite and announce to the entire island that my marriage is a sham?"

"You know this marriage is a contract," I countered, crossing my arms over my chest to stop my hands from trembling. "We had an agreement about boundaries."

"I am paying you a fortune to play your role convincingly," he said, kicking off his boat shoes and dropping his leather travel bag onto the floor. "The role requires you to share a roof and a bed with me. If you dislike it, feel free to sleep on the floor."

Without waiting for another word, he threw himself face down onto the massive mattress. Within minutes, the heavy rhythm of his breathing filled the quiet bungalow. The voyage had exhausted him, and he was out cold.

I stood in the center of the room, listening to the ocean surf crashing in the distance. Realizing he would not wake anytime soon, I unpacked his leather bag, hanging his pressed linen shirts and dark trousers inside the cedar wardrobe. I checked the adjoining rooms, hoping for a secondary lounge or an alcove, but there was only a marble bathroom and an open living space.

"Kaelen?" I called out quietly toward the bed. "Is there another room attached to this unit?"

A soft snore answered me.

Exhaling a long breath, I walked over to the living room sofa. The cushions were firm and narrow, but anything beat lying next to the man who treated me like dirt. I curled onto my side, clutching a decorative throw pillow against my stomach, and let fatigue pull me under.

When I opened my eyes, the room was steeped in pitch-black shadow. The sound of the wind rattling through the palm fronds outside disoriented me for a second before the reality of the bungalow came rushing back.

I fumbled in the darkness, knocking my knee against the low coffee table before my fingers found the brass lamp switch. Warm yellow light washed across the empty living room.

I turned toward the bedroom. The bed was rumpled, but Kaelen was gone.

A hollow cramp twisted my empty stomach. My pockets were bare, my purse held no credit cards, and I was stranded on a private luxury island dependent on a ruthless billionaire's whims.

I marched into the bathroom, washed the sleep from my face, and changed into a flowy, coral-patterned sundress from the wardrobe Kaelen had provided. After slipping into flat sandals, I decided to venture outside to find food.

The tropical night was warm and humid as I walked back toward the illuminated main building. Frustration churned through my veins. He could have at least left me some cash or informed me where he was going.

"Mrs. Vance?" The front desk receptionist called out as I passed through the lobby. She offered me a professional, practiced smile as she held out a folded piece of stationery. "Your husband asked me to give you this when you woke up."

I took the paper from her fingers. Unfolding it, I saw Kaelen's jagged, aggressive handwriting:

*Eat at the beachfront open-air restaurant. Bill everything to our room tab.*

"The restaurant path is clearly marked by the lanterns to your left, Mrs. Vance," the receptionist added, her tone polite yet distant.

"Thank you," I muttered, turning away and following the stone pathway lit by glowing paper lanterns.

A soft, romantic acoustic melody drifted on the sea breeze as I drew closer to the oceanfront dining terrace. Lanterns hung suspended from wooden posts, casting a warm golden glow over white linen tables set directly along the edge of the sand. Couples sat close together, murmuring in low voices, clinking wine glasses, and laughing quietly. Watching them made the loneliness in my chest expand into an unbearable weight.

I selected a small two-seater table set off to the far corner of the terrace, facing the dark, rolling tide. The cool night wind brushed against my bare shoulders, bringing the crisp scent of brine and blooming jasmine.

A waiter approached immediately, handing me a leather-bound menu printed in French and Italian terms I could barely decipher.

"What would you recommend for dinner?" I asked, looking up at him with a weary smile. "Something simple and fresh, please."

"Our pan-seared sea bass with saffron risotto is our signature dish, ma'am," the waiter answered smoothly. "I will place the order right away."

He stepped away and returned a moment later carrying an uncorked bottle of dark red wine. "Compliments of the house for our honeymoon guests."

"Thank you, but I do not drink," I replied, holding up my hand to decline the glass.

"A good vintage should never go to waste on a night like this," a rich, smooth voice spoke from behind me.

I turned around in my chair. A tall man stood a few paces away, his hands resting casually inside the pockets of his tailored trousers. He had thick chestnut hair, a trimmed beard, and warm, hazel eyes that crinkled at the corners as he offered me an easy, confident smile.

"I apologize if I startled you," he said, stepping closer to my table. "I could not help but overhear. I am Kian Hayes."

The friendly warmth in his eyes caught me off guard. After dealing with Kaelen's hostility all day, a polite human interaction felt like water in a desert.

"Nice to meet you, Kian," I answered before my brain could catch up with my tongue. "I am Rose."

The moment the syllables left my mouth, panic flared in my chest. I had spoken my real name instead of my assigned identity.

Kian raised an eyebrow, his smile widening with genuine interest. "Rose. A classic name for an enchanting woman. Rose what, if you do not mind me asking?"

"Just Rose is fine," I replied quickly, smoothing down the front of my dress to hide my nerves.

"Are you waiting for someone, or may I join you for a brief conversation?" Kian asked, gesturing toward the empty wicker chair opposite me. "Dining alone in paradise seems like an absolute crime."

I glanced around the terrace. The couples were absorbed in their own private worlds, and the empty space across from me felt vast and miserable. "You can sit down, Mr. Hayes. I would not mind the company."

"Thank you, Rose," he said, pulling the chair out and sitting down smoothly. He rested his forearms on the table, looking directly into my eyes without any trace of condescension. "Is this your first time visiting the island?"

"Yes, it is," I admitted, relaxing slightly into the wicker backrest. "Everything is very new to me."

"Then let me make sure you experience the best food they have to offer," Kian said, picking up the small bronze bell on the table to summon the waiter. He ordered a side of roasted garlic prawns and a fresh herb salad to accompany my fish, speaking with the casual confidence of someone who frequented high-end resorts.

As we waited for the food, Kian kept the conversation light, asking about my impression of the coast and sharing funny anecdotes about his travels around the Mediterranean. He was funny, charming, and attentive, listening to every small remark I made without interrupting or scowling. For the first time since this nightmare began, I felt like a regular human being instead of a purchased prop.

"May I ask an honest question?" Kian asked softly, his hazel eyes studying my features under the amber glow of the lanterns.

My heart gave an uneasy thud against my ribs. "Go ahead."

"Who did you travel here with, Rose? A woman like you does not end up on a private island completely on her own."

Guilt and anxiety clamped down on my throat. I could not lie entirely, yet telling the truth felt equally perilous. "I arrived here with... Kaelen Vance."

Kian's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before he could form another syllable, the warm air around our table turned freezing cold.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Vesper?"

The voice was a low, guttural snarl that slashed through the restaurant's ambient music.

I whipped my head around. Kaelen stepped out from the shadows near the terrace archway. His dark hair was disheveled by the sea wind, his jaw was clenched so hard the muscles jumped under his skin, and his eyes burned with raw, murderous fury.

Before I could push my chair back, Kaelen closed the distance between us. His fingers clamped around my bare forearm like iron shackles, digging into my flesh with brutal force as he yanked me upward off my seat.

"You are coming back to our bungalow right now," he growled through bared teeth.

Pain shot up my arm, making me gasp. "Let go of me, Kaelen! You are hurting me! Stop acting like a madman!"

"You dare lecture me on manners?" Kaelen sneered, his grip tightening until my bones felt ready to snap. "You are my lawful wife, yet you sit here batting your eyelashes at strange men behind my back!"

Kian sprang to his feet, knocking his chair back an inch against the wooden deck. His friendly demeanor vanished, replaced by sharp, protective anger. "Take your hands off her! She was merely having dinner, and you have no right to touch a woman like that. Release her arm right now."

"Stay out of this if you value your life, Hayes," Kaelen barked, not even turning his full body toward him.

"I said let her go!" Kian stepped forward, reaching out to break Kaelen's hold on my bruised arm.

Kaelen moved with terrifying speed. He released my arm and drove his clenched right fist straight into Kian's jaw with sickening, bone-crushing force.

The wet crack of impact echoed across the open-air dining terrace. Kian was thrown backward through the air, crashing into the neighboring dining table. Glass plates shattered against the tiles, silver cutlery clattered across the floor, and a dark spray of blood splattered across the pristine white linen tablecloth.

Screams erupted from several women at nearby tables. Waiters froze in sheer terror, clutching their trays while patrons scrambled out of their chairs to get away from the violence.

Kian lay on the deck floor, groaning as blood poured from his broken nose and split lip. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his hazel eyes flashing with defiance as he tried to push himself up onto his knees to fight back.

"Stop it, Kaelen! Please, stop!" I screamed, lunging between them and grabbing Kaelen's muscular chest with both hands to push him away. "Are you insane? We were just having a conversation! You are making a horrific scene!"

Kaelen looked down at me, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, his eyes dark, wild, and entirely unhinged. Without saying a single word to the stunned crowd, he grabbed both of my wrists in one massive hand and dragged me off the restaurant deck into the darkness.

"Let me go!" I sobbed, stumbling behind him as the sharp gravel on the garden path bit into my sandals. "Stop dragging me like an animal!"

He ignored my cries completely. His grip was relentless, pulling me along the secluded stone path until we reached our private bungalow. He kicked the front door wide open, hauled me across the threshold, and hurled me violently onto the king-sized mattress.

I landed hard against the pillows, my hair falling into my tear-streaked face.

Kaelen slammed the heavy wooden door shut, the bolt sliding into place with a loud, metallic clink. He towered over the foot of the bed, his dark frame blocking out the room's warm lamplight.

"Listen to me very carefully," Kaelen bellowed, his voice vibrating with venom. "You carry my name on this island! You are Mrs. Vance! Never open your mouth to another man behind my back again! Do not ever act like a cheap whore looking for company the second I turn my back!"

The vile accusation hit me like a slap across the face, shattering whatever restraint I possessed. Burning humiliation transformed into desperate, screaming rage.

"How dare you call me that!" I screamed back, tears spilling over my burning cheeks as I pushed myself upright on the bed. "Look at yourself! You paid me to stand at an altar because your real bride abandoned you! You hired me to play an actress! You do not own my soul, you do not own my body, and you possess zero right to treat me like your property!"

Kaelen lunged forward, grabbing both of my shoulders and shoving me down against the mattress, his face inches from mine. His hot, ragged breath washed over my skin, his fingers sinking so deep into my bruised flesh that I gasped for air.

"Let me remind you of the reality, Rose," he hissed, his voice dropping into a deadly, low whisper that sent chills racing down my spine. "Our marriage license is legally binding. The signatures on that document are recognized by the state. You belong to me under the law until I decide otherwise. If I choose to file charges of infidelity against you, I can have both you and whatever pathetic lover you pick up thrown into a state penitentiary before tomorrow morning. Do you understand me? Until our divorce papers are signed, you will not look at another man, you will not smile at another man, and you will not utter a single word to anyone. If you disobey me again, you will regret ever being born."

He shoved me away, letting my head strike the headboard, and spun around on his heel. He yanked the front door open, stepped out into the tropical night, and slammed it shut with a force that shook the glass windows in their frames.

I lay frozen on the bed, trembling from head to toe, my chest heaving with silent, ragged sobs. The bruises on my arms throbbed with hot pain, but the terror inside my mind was infinitely worse.

Kaelen had left in a blind, murderous rage. The image of Kian lying on the broken restaurant floor, covered in blood, flashed before my eyes. What if Kaelen went back to the terrace to finish him off? What if his uncontrolled fury led him to commit outright murder? If Kian died because I had innocently shared a table with him, I would never be able to live with the guilt.

"No," I whispered to myself, wiping the tears from my eyes with trembling hands. "I cannot let that happen."

Panic overpowered my exhaustion and fear. I scrambled off the mattress, pulled my sandals back onto my feet, and ran out the front door into the pitch-black night.

The salt-heavy wind whipped my hair into my face as I sprinted along the winding stone paths. The central resort grounds were quiet now, the guests having retreated inside after the violent spectacle at the dining terrace. My eyes scanned the shadows between the palm trees, looking for any sign of his tall, broad-shouldered figure.

I took the secluded footpath that led toward the dark coastal cliffs overlooking the rocky shoreline, guessing he might head toward the open water to cool his temper. The rhythmic roar of the waves crashing against the rocks below filled the humid air.

As I rounded a sharp bend flanked by stone balustrades, a pair of silhouettes caught my eye on a secluded private viewing terrace bathed in pale moonlight.

I stopped dead in my tracks, ducking behind a thick stone pillar to catch my breath.

It was Kaelen. Relief surged through me for a split second—he had not gone back to slaughter Kian. But the relief evaporated into a cold, sickening horror when I saw the second figure stepping out from the shadows directly into his arms.

Nadia Cruz was dressed in a shimmering black silk gown that caught the silvery moonlight. She slid her bare arms up Kaelen's chest, winding them possessively around his neck until their bodies were pressed tightly together against the stone balustrade.

"I have been waiting for you all evening, darling," Nadia's sultry voice drifted through the quiet night air, clear and unmistakable.

Kaelen did not pull away. He did not shove her aside, nor did he rage about propriety or legal marriage vows. Instead, his large hands rested firmly against her slender waist, pulling her closer against his frame.

Under the glowing moonlight, Nadia tilted her chin upward and pressed her lips hungrily against Kaelen's mouth. Kaelen lowered his head, parting his lips, and kissed her back with deep, unhurried passion.

"Come with me, Kaelen," Nadia purred against his lips, her hand sliding down to grip the lapel of his shirt. "Let us go to my room right now."

I stood behind the cold stone pillar, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle the sob clawing its way up my throat. Every harsh word he had just spat in my face—every threat of prison, every filthy insult about being a faithful wife—echoed through my skull like a cruel, vicious joke. He had beaten an innocent man half to death for speaking to me, yet here he stood, wrapped in the arms of his mistress without an ounce of shame.

The fragile shreds of dignity and foolish trust I had harbored in my chest shattered into pieces, leaving behind a hollow, bleeding ache that threatened to swallow me whole.