Chapter 6 SIX

Lazar's car purred up the long winding road that led to his estate. A hidden mansion just beyond Bevin's cliffs, shrouded in palms and old cypress trees. The iron gates opened silently as he approached, recognizing the license plate. Warm light spilled from antique lanterns along the cobbled driveway, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air.

The mansion itself was grand; modern elegance softened by timeless charm. Arched windows framed the sea in every room. The walls were paneled in smooth walnut, the floors a blend of polished travertine and dark hardwood. High ceilings gave the rooms space to breathe, while woven silk rugs grounded them with quiet luxury. Art pieces lined the hallways, minimalist sculptures, ocean-themed oil paintings, and one faded photograph of a woman holding a child.

He walked past the grand staircase into his private study. Dark glass, leather-bound books, and a decanter of aged bourbon waited like old friends.

He poured himself a glass, barely sipping before the pager beeped again.

It must be urgent, for his secretary to be beeping him twice in one night.

Lazar sat behind the dark mahogany desk, its surface immaculate except for a glass paperweight and the laptop he had left open.

Just as he reached for the screen, it lit up. Mary was calling. Video.

He answered, and her face filled the screen-sharp features, glasses perched on her nose, her dark hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun.

"Yes, Mary."

Her voice came clipped and efficient. "You've been spotted," she replied, wasting no time.

His brow arched slightly as he sighed. "Where?"

Mary pinched her lips. "In a tabloid column. Second-rate paper. Fuzzy image--barely recognizable--but it's you. Deswany cliffs, it says. They mention you weren't alone."

Lazar closed his eyes. "Is it bad?"

"No. But curious. You know how they are. They smell a whisper and start roaring."

He ran a hand over his face. "Let them roar."

"You can't hide forever. At some point, this... retreat needs to end."

"And if I'm not ready?" not even sure who he was asking.

She looked at him, eyes steady. "This space you vacated needs someone to fill it. And I'm afraid that soon, this story won't be yours to control anymore."

He sighed, knowing that Mary was right.

"We need you back. The Lumex acquisition is moving faster. They want a face at the table. You're the face." Mary informed him.

"I haven't done public in years," he mattered, staring past the screen.

"That's precisely why they're asking. Your silence has become a myth, sir. Maybe it's time to step out of the shadows."

He said nothing.

Mary's tone shifted slightly, more deliberate now. "This Friday, you're needed for the acquisition with Lumex. Your presence matters--they want your assurance in person."

Lazar exhaled, leaning back. "I have to think about this."

Mary shook her head. "No. You're making an appearance on Friday."

Mary might be his secretary, but she was a great asset to him. There was no point in arguing with her, she was a strict person. Sometimes, he wondered who the boss was-him or her?

He simply nodded.

"Then, next week Friday is the Helixcore product launch. Major press. High-level guests. Several of your business acquaintances are expected."

Lazar frowned. "Two appearances?"

Mary nodded. "Yes," she said firmly. "And neither can be missed. Especially the launch. You've been absent long enough. This might be the moment to start reclaiming the narrative."

He sighed again, feeling the weight of the house pressing on him. "You're sure I can't delegate?"

"They want you. Not a delegate. Not a signature. You."

He was silent.

"Two key dates, Mr. Wolfe. This Friday and the next one."

He paused his lips and nodded. "I'll be there," he responded.

She flashed him a quick smile. "Goodnight, sir."

Without a response from him, the call ended.

Silence returned and his eyes fell on the glass of bourbon long forgotten.

The morning sun rose lazily through the curtains. Marissa awoke to the soft, filtered light that slipped through. Excitement stirred within her-a rare flutter of anticipation that she had come to embrace since her stay in Bevin. She stretched slowly, savouring the quiet morning.

Her mind drifted briefly to Lazar, the man with the mysterious presence and easy charm. Who was he really? How did he arrange a helicopter in few hours? The questions buzzed but she pushed them aside. Today, she decided, she would focus on herself.

Still wrapped in her soft robe, she called the reception for room service and ordered breakfast--eggs, buttered plantain toast, and tropical jam.

When Lilian arrived moments later, balancing a silver tray with a smile, Marissa's spirits lifted.

"Good morning, Miss Marissa," Lilian greeted, placing the tray on the small table beside the bed. "I brought your breakfast."

"Thank you, Lilian. Any luck with the coffee?" she really craved for it.

Lilian shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry. We don't carry that brand here. You want to try one of ours?"

Marissa smiled, shaking her head. The breakfast would be enough to fuel her for the better part of the day.

Lilian stood a few feet a way from the bed, lowering her voice, she started. "There's going to be a bonfire party at the beach tonight. Local food, music, dancing. It's quite an event. You should come."

Marissa looked up at her. She paused, considering. "I'm not sure. I just want to stay in today."

Lilian gave her a knowing look. "You might enjoy it. It's a good way to really relax here."

When she left minutes later, the thought lingered in Marissa's mind as she finished breakfast. Maybe she would go.

But she would keep her distance. Especially from Lazar.

Marissa sat quietly, the scent of the sea breeze drifting through the slightly open window. The idea of the bonfire party tugged at her-a part of her craving normalcy, connection, something beyond the walls of her solitude. But another part recoiled, wary of running into Lazar again. The tension between them was undeniable, and she wasn't ready to face that pull.

As evening approached, the resort transformed. Lanterns flickered to life along the sandy paths leading to the beach. A small crowd gathered near a large fire pit, the flames casting warm, dancing shadows on faces glowing with anticipation. The sound of drums and guitars mingled with laughter and chatter, creating a festive hum.

Marissa approached hesitantly. She spotted Lilian chatting with a group of locals, their colorful attire vibrant against the darkening sky. Nearby, tables were laden with dishes; grilled seafood, spicy stews, fresh tropical fruits, and an array of exotic drinks in tall glasses decorated with little umbrellas and fruit slices.

It was quite the festival.

Taking a deep breath, Marissa eased into the circle of warmth and sound. A man handed her a small cup filled with a sweet, spiced punch. She smiled politely, nodding thanks.

"Having a good time?" a voice asked softly beside her and she turned to find Lilian there.

She glanced sideways, meeting the kind pair of eyes belonging to Lilian with a gentle smile.

Lilian was becoming a friend, she thought.

Marissa nodded.

"Come on, you have to try the crab cakes-they're the best on the island," she said, gesturing to the table.

As they talked about the local food, music, and island life, Marissa felt some of her tension ease. She laughed quietly, the sound almost foreign to her own ears. Yet through the crowd and color, her eyes kept scanning, half-expecting to see Lazar step from the shadows.

When the music slowed, couples moved closer, swaying by the firelight. Marissa stepped back, feeling the heat of the flames but the chill of her own restraint. She promised herself to enjoy the night without giving in to the magnetic pull that Lazar stirred in her heart.

Here's the next part, continuing the bonfire party vibe with more subtle, natural dialogue and Marissa's internal conflict:

As the night deepened, and the fire crackled louder, sending sparks into the dark sky. Marissa found a spot on the edge of the gathering, watching the dancers with a mix of curiosity and caution. The music shifted to a slow, rhythmic beat, inviting couples to move closer.

Lilian appeared again beside her, handing over a plate of grilled shrimp and mango salad. "You're doing well, blending in."

Marissa smiled faintly. "Trying."

Lilian nodded knowingly. "It's easier when you let yourself."

Marissa looked away, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her chest.

"Don't be afraid to let go," Lilian said gently.

Marissa wished it were that simple.

Just then, a familiar laugh floated through the air; low, smooth. Her heart clenched.

Lazar emerged near the firelight, casual in a white linen shirt, eyes scanning until they landed on her. For a moment, their gazes locked, charged, unspoken.

Lilian nudged her. "See? What did I tell you?"

Marissa's breath hitched, but she forced a smile. "I'm here to enjoy the night, not complicate it."

Lazar approached, stopping a respectful distance away. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," she replied, voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

He gestured toward the fire. "May I join you?"

After a beat, she nodded, then turned to find that Lilian was gone.

They sat near the flames, the heat mingling with the tension between them. Words came slowly, layered with meaning.

"So," Lazar said, "are you starting to feel at home here?"

Marissa hesitated. "Maybe a little. The island has a way of getting under your skin."

He smiled. "Good. I hope it stays with you."

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. Firelight, whispered words, and the unspoken pull lingering in the air.

Marissa tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling the weight of Lazar's gaze on her. He wasn't staring but there was an intent in his presence, a quiet focus that made her chest tighten.

She turned slightly, eyes fixed on the fire. "It's strange... I came here looking for peace, but I find myself questioning everything."

"Peace isn't the absence of questions," Lazar said softly. "Sometimes it's found in the middle of them."

She glanced at him, surprised by the depth in his tone.

A long silence settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it made the air between them crackle louder than the fire.

"I'm not good at small talk," she admitted, breaking the long silence between them.

"Neither am I," he replied, smirking. "It's exhausting. Pretending to be lighter than you are."

Marissa let out a soft laugh. "Exactly."

Their eyes met again. Neither of them moved, but something inside her did. A shift.

Then Lazar leaned in slightly, voice low. "Would it scare you if I said I enjoy being around you?"

She swallowed hard. "Probably."

"But you wouldn't ask me to stop?"

She shook her head slowly. "No."

The fire hissed as wood cracked, casting shadows over his face. Lazar studied her for a moment longer, then stood.

"I won't stay long. Just wanted to see if you were here."

"Why?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

He looked down at her, a flicker of vulnerability behind the steady calm. "Because I hoped you would be."

He stepped back into the night without waiting for her reply.

Marissa sat frozen for a while, the taste of his words lingering on her lips longer than the sweet punch from earlier.

She shouldn't feel this way.

But she did.

After Lazar disappeared into the shadows, Marissa stayed seated, the hum of music and laughter filling the air around her like a fog she didn't quite belong in, but didn't want to leave.

Trying to distract herself, she wandered back toward the food tables. She picked at a roasted plantain skewered with spicy chicken. A woman passed her a clay cup filled with something creamy and warm-spiced banana liqueur, she was told. It was sweet and velvety, leaving a slow burn down her throat.

She smiled, genuinely this time. Maybe Lilian was right. Maybe the island did have a way of softening people, peeling away their edges one warm night at a time.

She found herself trying caramelized coconut with chili, then grilled pineapple slices dusted with sea salt. She never would've chosen these things before, but tonight, she let herself taste everything. Just a little.

Lilian waved from across the fire, giving her a thumbs-up. Marissa returned it with a shy smile.

Eventually, her feet carried her back through the sandy path to the resort, her body loose from the food and drink, her heart still taut with thoughts she couldn't shake.

Back in her room, she stepped out onto the veranda. The garden below glowed gently with fairy lights and moonlight. Somewhere out there, Lazar was moving through his own silence.

She shouldn't want him.

But she did.

And that scared her more than anything else.