Chapter Twelve

––––––––

I KEPT MY ATTENTION on the three guests below me.

Sitting on the deck of the central villa that housed all the conveniences of a five-star resort, including three restaurants, a gin bar, small movie theatre, gym, spa, and a few retail shops that specialised in the most expensive, exclusive diamonds anyone could buy, I studied them closely.

At least one of the gentlemen had purchased a diamond—it glinted on a tie pin, stabbed into his floral shirt. I couldn’t blame him wearing the flawless stone even without a suit and tie or a boardroom to notice.

No one else in the world had the right to sell Hawk diamonds, but I personally knew Jethro Hawk who ruled over his own estate and inheritance of priceless gemstones.

We’d met under strange circumstances. He had a condition that required behavioural drugs. I had a talent at taking natural ingredients and blending with science to create newer, better drugs. Far more potent drugs.

We’d met when he’d reached his wit’s end and needed something new—to continue existing in his painful personal world. I’d given him something. We’d stayed in touch. He no longer used my drug, and instead, he’d found that love conquered his condition without the use of chemicals.

However, a business deal had struck up from our acquaintance, and it’d been mutually benefiting. He had power in his own right, just like the guests below me. Drinking a noonday cocktail, they relaxed on the sprawling deck that meandered around koi carp ponds, palm trees, and were home to a few very fat white herons, who were used to being hand-fed.

One man was a politician, hiding from the nasty world of bullshit and over-promises, spending the next three days with us while indulging in some very intriguing fantasies. Another was the heir of a supermarket chain. I’d personally gifted one night on top of the five he’d paid for because he was the first to eradicate all pesticides on the produce his chain sold and had vowed to only provide plant-based meat to his consumers. And the third was a B-grade actor who’d spent a very enlightening time with a goddess called Jupiter.

He’d treated her with respect.

They’d had a mutually satisfying time together.

Today was his last afternoon on my shores.

I oversaw everyone’s departure as well as their arrival to ensure their needs had been met, any outstanding bills were paid, and their feedback on any pillow talk a goddess might’ve divulged was delivered straight to me.

A few had tried to escape by asking their patron to help smuggle them off the island. Another few had agreed to be bought by the guest, if I agreed to sell.

Neither of those things would ever happen.

“Sir?”

I looked up through piercing sunshine to raise an eyebrow at Calvin. “What is it?”

He stood with a smirk that he hadn’t eradicated from his face ever since Eleanor Grace had been unceremoniously dragged out of my office...naked.

It pissed me off.

It made me aware I’d stepped over lines I’d promised I’d never cross. She’d gotten under my skin, and that was yet another thing that should never have fucking happened.

Cal squinted his gaze against the bright tropics. “She’s left her room. She’s being escorted to the Divinity Dining Room.”

I instantly lost all interest in the men beneath me on the lower deck. “Bring her here.”

He nodded. “Right away.” With another annoying little smile, he left to bring a disgraced and fallen angel to worship at my feet.