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The morning sun cast a golden hue over the resort's poolside, where Mira reclined on a lounge chair, her skin absorbing the warmth as she sought relaxation. Her eyes were half-lidded under the warm light, but the sudden prickling sensation of being watched made her tilt her head slightly. A group of girls nearby pointed in her direction, whispering with sharp glances. It worsened when one of them noticed her man stealing a glance at Mira.
The girl approached him with feigned indignation, playfully striking his chest .The man chuckled, attempting to defuse the situation, while his friends intervened to maintain harmony.
Bored, Mira rose and walked to the bar for a drink. As she returned to her seat, a girl deliberately bumped into her. Mira, a law-abiding citizen, simply nodded calmly and continued walking. She didn't apologize—but her calm, composed expression seemed to irritate the other woman.
However, the woman wasn't appeased but more annoyed. She grabbed Mira's hair, her voice dripping with disdain. "You can't even apologize? You nearly ruined my outfit. Do you think being a kept woman gives you the right to act as you please?"
Mira lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice genuinely remorseful—at least on the surface.
The woman sneered, turning to her friends. "Bring me the scissors. Let's teach her a lesson."
Sensing her distracted, Mira's demeanor shifted. Her hand shot up, gripping the woman's wrist with unexpected strength. In one fluid motion, she poured her drink over the woman's face and pushed her back.
The woman gasped, turning to retaliate, but Mira's hand met her cheek with a resounding SLAP
The sound cracked through the air
The poolside fell silent.. Mira's face remained serene, the motion fluid and unhurried. She dusted her hand afterward and crossed her arms, gaze cool, slightly mocking.
Mira calmly adjusted her posture, dusted off her hands, and crossed her arms. A faint, mocking smile played on her lips. "Who's next? Step forward, and I promise you'll see stars."
"You bitch!" another woman shouted, her voice trembling with rage. The men, sensing the escalating tension, approached.
Just then, the man and his friends arrived. He stepped between them, glaring at the girl who shouted.Apologize," he told Mira, though his eyes lingered on her body before he swallowed .
Mira sighed, rubbing her forehead. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Rian entering the pool area. Seizing the moment, she adopted a vulnerable stance, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice quivering. "It was a reflex. I didn't mean to."
The women, misinterpreting her act, accused her of seeking attention. Their voices rose in unison, berating her as she stepped back, feigning fear yet displaying a hint of defiance.
The girls sneered.
"What, acting innocent now because he's watching?" one snapped.
"Slut."
"Shameless."
Mira stepped back, trembling, but trying to look brave. The contrast between her fragile demeanor and the girls' aggression drew the attention of nearby men.
"You're overreacting," one man said, stepping closer.
"Leave her alone."
But the support only fueled the girls' rage. One hurled a drink at Mira, soaking her again, and another yanked her hair, pushing her straight into the pool.
Mira struggled, the water enveloping her as laughter echoed around. Suddenly, a splash. Rian had jumped in, pulling her out and carrying her bridal style. He placed her gently on a lounge chair, his eyes momentarily betraying admiration as her wet dress clung to her form.
Mira, shivering, covered herself. Rian, snapping out of his daze, draped his coat over her and turned to leave.
"Wait," Mira called out, her voice breaking. "You still don't believe me, do you?"
Rian paused. "Does it matter? We're not close."
"I just want to be friends. Or at least business partners," she said, looking up at him.
"I haven't signed any contract," he replied.
Mira chuckled, wringing out her hair. "I'm now a 25% shareholder in your company. That makes us partners, doesn't it?"
Rian stared, disbelief evident. "If you don't believe me, investigate," she added.
He hesitated, then walked away.
As Mira stood to leave, on her way to the villa two bodyguards approached and blocked her path. "Please follow us," one said.
She nodded, following them to a private lounge where a man awaited.
"I'm Marco. It's a pleasure to meet someone as beautiful as you," he greeted.
"Thanks," Mira replied, her tone neutral.
"Beauty alone isn't enough to keep Damien's interest," he smirked.
Mira chuckled. "That's all I have to offer."
Marco's smile faded. "But tell me, is beauty all you have to offer?"
I can kill ten like you, and Damien wouldn't care."
I don't have to tell you that now do I she said
She turned to leave.
The guards blocked her path, guns at their waists visible. Mira raised a brow.
"I don't like being interrupted. It gets messy. I could kill you, and Damien wouldn't care. You'd be a lost treasure for three days—then forgotten."
Mira snorted, walking back to the couch, flipping her hair and sitting like royalty.
"That line's from a movie, isn't it? So cliche. So cringe. Male superiority complex, paired with delusion that a gun means power
Marco licked his lips. The smirk was gone
"Go ahead. Shoot. But tell me—do you really believe Damien Voss, king of the Black Night Empire and Ross Corporation, would let someone he's invested in die? Do you think it'll take him three days to find me?"
Marco's face hardened.
"You should research better. If you're going to play the mafia card, at least don't let your guard down."
With a swift motion, Mira snatched a gun from one of the guards and sat down and pointed the gun at Marco. The entire move took five seconds.
"This is what happens when they let a dog pretend to be a lion If you want to act like a mafia boss, at least be convincing,," she said. "
she said, standing. She shot the gun from one of the bodyguard hand and use the gun in her hand to knock the other bodyguard head thatw was reaching for the gun in her hand Turning to Marco, she smirked. "Next time, do your research. Damien doesn't need to avenge me. I'd have already taken care of it."
Next time, entertain me properly. And cover your tracks well if you want to act like the boss—see that extra glass on the table? Rookie mistake greet your boss for me ."
Marco face went very dark proving her point if she was guessing if she is the real deal then he was not the real deal he just proved her right
She tossed the gun at them and strode to the door. The stunned men didn't move.
Then she vanished from the room, leaving only stunned silence behind.
flipping her wet hair as she leaves
_______
A low hum of music filled the suite, the balcony doors cracked open just enough to let in the murmur of poolside laughter and clinking glasses. Damien sat by the bar, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand, the golden liquid catching the sunlight like melted amber.
Across from him lounged a man in an expensive, unbuttoned shirt—his tone casual, but his eyes glinting with mischief.
"It seems you've found yourself a new plaything," the man said, his gaze drifting out toward the pool.
Damien didn't even glance up.
"It also seems like you enjoy lurking in the shadows these days. Ever since that little mess… is that supposed to make you look cool?" Damien replied voice mocking, poking at a wound just to see if it still hurt.
Damien took a slow sip of his drink, as he scrolled through his phone.
"You hurt my feelings, you know," the man added, placing a hand over his chest mockingly. "Imagine my shock—finding out you were a girl after that stunt.
Damien finally looked at him, gaze unreadable but sharp enough to cut. He didn't say a word.
Then a ruckus broke through the lazy afternoon air. Screaming, splashing—an argument. Damien turned his head toward the balcony, rising with quiet tension. He stepped out just as the shouting grew louder. His eyes narrowed.
Below, a chaotic scene unfolded: several women had cornered Mira, one of them yanking her by the hair. Accusations, slaps, mocking laughter—then Rian burst forward, diving into the pool and emerging with Mira in his arms like some dramatic lead in a soap opera.
Damien said nothing. He simply leaned on the railing, watching.
The man behind him chuckled.
"Your girl is quite the drama queen," he said, amused.
"I've gotten used to it," Damien replied coolly, eyes still trained on the scene below. "Besides, drama adds spice. It keeps things… interesting."
The man tilted his head, smirking. "You sound like you're enjoying it."
"You wouldn't understand," Damien said simply. "You're not in a relationship. Worry about yourself."
The other man raised an eyebrow. "Touchy, are we?"
Damien finally turned to face him fully. His voice was calm, almost too calm.
"And one more thing," he said. "From now on, unless it's business-related, don't contact me."
A pause.
The man chuckled, though there was a flicker of irritation in his eyes now. "Cold, Damien."
But Damien had already walked past him, his glass left behind on the bar, half-finished.
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"You seem to be busy having fun," Damien said, his voice cool and unamused as his eyes flicked up to her. "Walking around looking like that."
Mira paused mid-step, turning slowly. She found him lounging on the couch like a king in his throne, one arm draped along the backrest, the other gesturing lazily in her direction.
She followed his gaze—and froze.
The wet evening gown clung to her body like second skin, translucent in all the wrong places. Her curves were outlined boldly, her soaked bra visible through the thin fabric. Rian's coat, draped over her shoulders, reached down to her knees. Her hair stuck to her face in damp waves, wild and unbothered.
She smirked. "What's wrong with it? I think it looks sexy."
Damien didn't blink. "Hmm. Indeed—sexy," he echoed, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. "Why don't you go stand in the garden until you dry off, then? And don't. Change. Position."
Before she could react, he closed the distance between them, tugged the coat off her shoulders, and tossed it to the floor like it was contaminated.
"Let this be the last time you wear another man's belongings," he said, his tone smooth but laced with threat. "Or I'll kill him."
He leaned closer, lips nearly grazing her ear, voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.
"And I'll spank your ass. Got it?"
Mira blinked at him, half-shocked, half-amused.
He raised a brow. "Well? Go on. Start your punishment. What are you waiting for—a banner? A motivational speech?"
Mira rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't get stuck. With a dramatic sigh, she turned and walked barefoot toward the garden behind the villa.
The afternoon sun was scorching, heat radiating off the stone path. She stepped onto the grass and took her place in the center, arms crossed as she stood defiantly under the sun's glare, her wet gown starting to cling even tighter.
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