Chapter 4 Lust Without Love

MARION

I sat in my office, watching the monitor that provided a live feed from The Oceanview Oasis, my second most sought-after resort. From this vantage point, every corner of the grounds was visible: Infinity pools glistening in the California sun, private bungalows tucked away like hidden treasures, and the occasional sight of a celebrity slipping in under a wide-brimmed hat or oversized sunglasses.

When I find the right woman for myself, we'll spend the weekend here.

The place was a magnet for actors, musicians, athletes, and high-profile individuals who sought to escape the spotlight for a while. Privacy was guaranteed here. The security was airtight - my brother Marcel made sure of that. No drone, no camera, no gossip blog could pierce the sanctuary I had built.

"Mar," Cyprian called out as he entered my office, his voice annoyingly casual as always. "We need to talk. I sent you a message, my friend."

"Yeah, I saw it. About what?" I said, not taking my eyes off the screen. One of the cabana servers was delivering champagne to a famous R&B singer who thought she was incognito. She wasn't.

"Your next business venture," he answered, flopping into the chair opposite me like he owned the place. "I think you need to hire a new marketing director."

"She isn't going to work?" I finally closed my laptop, leaning forward to look into his eyes. I hope it's not what I'm thinking.

"We fucked, three nights ago," he said, smirking like a boy who'd stolen candy. "She stopped by my home, the day after yesterday, stepped in, and saw me fucking my latest fling on the couch. She was pissed and started throwing my expensive art collection onto the living room floor," he finished, shrugging as if it were a small inconvenience.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Since when did you two start fucking? - Don't answer".

I knew it was the day we were in Mikhail's club when she needed me to sign a document urgently. This fool was present, his gaze locked on her like a predator circling its prey. I should have known it was only a matter of time.

He's an actor – a natural flirt. It came with the kind of roles he plays on screen, always brooding, always irresistible. With his I don't give a fuck attitude, sometimes I wonder if he'll even settle down or if he even cares to.

Letting out a low chuckle. My mom should come and hear this. She always has something to say about me whenever the marriage topic comes up. She'd scold me for not setting boundaries with the people I called friends, even though she's always laughing whenever Cyprian flirts with her.

She'll have to bring me a wife then.

I leaned back in my seat and wiped my hand over my mouth.

"I honor contracts; it's her job unless she doesn't want it. Firing her doesn't change anything, and she's the best - highly recommended." My voice came out sharper than intended.

Cyprian ran his tongue over his teeth, smirking. His antics didn't surprise me, but the fact that he thought this was my problem was ridiculous. With how far I have come with this new establishment, alongside my team, I couldn't sack and hire a new director just because my friend couldn't keep his pants zipped. My marketing director told me herself that this gig was her dream contract-a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Cyprian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and staring me down with that movie-star gaze.

"Okay," he said. "She jumped on my couch and started punching the lady I was fucking."

That did it. I laughed out loud, shaking my head. Now I understand why she looked shy during the meeting yesterday, barely able to meet my eyes.

Damn, this boy.

We talked for a while, bouncing between business and nonsense. Cyprian stared at his phone when I heard a faint ping break our rhythm.

"My man, I've gotta bounce. Contract to review with my manager, and I've got a new movie coming up," he said, grinning.

Getting up from my chair, rounding my desk, I met him halfway, hugging briefly, patting each other's backs.

"Congratulations, bro!".

"Thanks, man, I'll call Mikhail, we need to meet for drinks". He said.

"Okay, bill me as a congratulatory gift".

"Damn, I see you, Mr. Billionaire," he joked.

"You're not far from that either," I said, chuckling.

Saying that, he laughed with me, gave a quick salute before walking out of my office. Silence fell, broken only by the distant hum of the ocean crashing against the cliffs.

Just as he left, a call came through. Paula.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Hello, babe, I was thinking since we couldn't go out last night, why don't we eat tonight. Any location in mind?" She queried.

"Okay, meet me at Nobu Malibu, 8 pm."

"Sure, I- ". I end the call. She's always saying, I can't wait to meet you. I know her tactics, no need to keep the convo going.

I stayed behind, needing to wrap up a bit of work - reviewing the financial budget and writing a check for the new materials ordered for the casino under construction now.

"Clara. My office. Now". I told my assistant through the intercom. She goes wherever I go.

"Give this check to the supplier when he comes on Monday. I'm out". Checking my watch - almost 7 pm. I stood, gathering my things, walking out of my office.

"Okay, Boss".

Outside the building, the valet brought my Tesla Cybertruck around without me asking. The perks of them knowing my schedule better than I do. Its sleek, angular frame caught the last rays of daylight, gleaming like a beast built for another planet.

Sliding into the driver's seat, I eased onto the Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean catching the moonlight of the night, and headed toward downtown Malibu. I would've gone home rather than be in her presence, but my chef's been away visiting his daughter, who just had a baby, and the food he stocked me with was gone a week ago. I'm craving seafood anyway. I really should visit my parents at my childhood home and get a proper meal. The takeouts are getting old, and I'm not much of a cook. I like to eat - and I like it done right.

Currently, Paula's the one I'm having an affair with. Proud to say, we've made it a whole two months - longer than most. It's May now. We're in what I like to call a "committed uncommitment". Either one of us could end it any time and go our separate ways without hard feelings.

There was no love here. Lust, yes. Excitement, yes. But love? No. And maybe that was safer.

For her sake, I hoped she understood that. Because if she didn't, things were bound to get messy.