CHAPTER 300: SWIMMING POOL

Darren had asked a worker to get her the damn champagne before entering into his own room.

He was slightly infuriated, maybe more uncomfortable by the fact that she held something that powerful over him, but he knew he could get himself out of it in the long run.

It was also, yet, another reminder to not allow himself to be vulnerable and land in situations where he would need desperate help.

Especially from someone who wasn’t an ally at the time, and still wasn’t one right now.

Meanwhile, the outside was waiting for them.

The dawn had bled into a perfect, sun-drenched afternoon at Serenity Cove. A profound, luxurious silence hung over the resort, broken only by the rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs and the whisper of a warm breeze through the palm fronds.

It was the calm before the storm— a storm of laughter, splashing, and the intricate, high-stakes dance of attraction Darren had orchestrated.

The centerpiece was the swimming pool, a masterpiece of liquid geometry that seemed to spill into the ocean itself. It was a vast, infinity-edged basin of the clearest azure water, lined with iridescent tiles that caught the sun and scattered it like diamonds. Plush, white sun loungers with crisp navy cushions were arranged in intimate clusters, and cabanas with billowing white curtains offered pockets of shade and secrecy.

At different corners were workers: waiters, security guards, masseurs, waiting to be called upon. And the air smelled of salt, chlorine, and blooming jasmine.

Some few minutes went by and finally after gathering his thoughts , the door to the master villa opened, and Darren stepped out.

He wore only a pair of black, form-fitting swimming trunks. The afternoon sun seemed to worship his form, highlighting every cut and contour of a physique that was less built and more architected.

Darren remembered cutting cigarettes and burgers early on after the system made him. He remembered the push-ups and the lifting, the gruesome morning exercise and diet. It was what had formed his brand new frame. Most of it.

Now, he stunned the morning and all the feminine workers around with his aesthetic build; broad, powerful shoulders that tapered into a V-shaped torso etched with a perfect six-pack abdomen. His arms were corded with lean muscle, and his legs were pillars of strength.

It was almost an abomination that only those swimming trunks were what denied these female workers from seeing him completely naked.

He walked to the edge of the pool, his reflection shimmering in the water’s pristine surface. With a thought, he summoned the system interface, the holographic display visible only to him against the bright sky.

┏Rachel: 80%┛ ┏Kara:86%┛ ┏Olivia:65%┛ ┏Cheyenne:55%┛ ┏Penelope:62%┛ ┏Sandy:50%┛ ┏Ileana:75%┛ ┏Miranda:65%┛ ┏Daisy:40%┛ ┏Tamara:52%┛

A slow, satisfied smile touched his lips. The numbers were climbing. The environment, the isolation, the sheer proximity, it was all working. The investment was yielding returns. It was time to accelerate the process.

He gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod. Around the pool, staff in immaculate white uniforms began to move with quiet efficiency. Silver platters of fresh fruit, slivers of sushi, and crystal flutes of champagne appeared as if by magic on low tables. Soft, ambient lounge music began to weave through the air from hidden speakers.

These were the preparations he had made. Snacks and music.

And then the water. It was perfect. And so was the sun.

He motioned on the workers to invite the women to the pool. All of them.

Then, he waited. He leaned against a lounger, wondering if there would be hesitation, a collective shyness. But a deep, primal part of him, the part the system had enhanced, knew better.

At this point, it was highly unlikely for them to shy away, especially after coming all the way here. It was almost inevitable that the women would begin vying for his attention. They wouldn’t shy away. They would see the pool as a new arena. And they would vie, subtly or overtly, for the attention of the prize at its center.

When he heard footsteps behind him, soft tender ones, he turned to see who the first woman to arrive was.

His eyes found Cheyenne. The footsteps suddenly didn’t sound that delicate any longer, they were more boss-like rather.

She emerged from the villa, not looking like she had any actual intentions of going for a swim, but she still had on a bikini, one that covered plenty but still emphasized at how ruthlessly hot and sexy this female billionaire was.

Her white minimalistic bikini was beautiful and all, but it was her full, voluptuous breasts that commanded the scene: heavy and pendulous yet perfectly shaped, spilling generously over the scalloped edges of the cups.

Her hips were unforgiven. With a small purple lace tied over them, they still flared dramatically from a nipped-in waist, forming an hourglass figure. A ravishing hourglass figure.

She had her long dark hair tied stylishly to the back of her head, and newly applied red lipstick.

Darren’s breath caught in his throat. His carefully constructed alpha composure faltered for a single, betraying second. His jaw went slack, his eyes drinking her in with a raw, masculine appreciation he usually kept veiled.

Cheyenne saw it. Of course she did. A slow, victorious smirk curved her perfectly painted lips as she approached. "I never took you for a looker, Mr. Duckling," she purred, her voice dripping with amused condescension. "Try not to drool in the pool. It’s terribly common."

She deliberately chose the lounger right next to his, the one that bent at just the right angle for reclining. She lowered herself onto it with a fluid grace that was its own performance, stretching out her long, flawless legs.

"Merely appreciating the view," Darren recovered, his voice a low rumble. "Sometimes I forget how beautiful you actually are."

Cheyenne was suddenly quiet, staring at the sky as though his words had struck her. "Don’t say what you don’t mean, Steele. I don’t appreciate it."

Darren frowned. "What I don’t mean? Of course I mean—"

His voice was stolen by the arrival of another woman.

It was Olivia.

And if Cheyenne was a goddess of ice and elegance, Olivia was a siren of emerald fire.

Her bikini was a vibrant, jewel-toned green that perfectly matched the daring streak she’d recently put in her hair. It was a slightly more athletic cut than Cheyenne’s, designed for movement, but it clung to her toned, feminine frame—a CEO’s body, yet one that was built for modelling.

Her breasts were so round and plum, and her hips curved hungrily, like they were prepared for baby-making at that intense hour. Surely hips and a flat stomach such as that was the result of yoga and spin classes. At least Darren thought so.

She walked with a confident sway to the pool’s edge, ignoring them completely.

Darren’s gaze, once again, was pulled magnetically. He watched the play of muscle in her back, the confident set of her shoulders. Without a glance his way, she dove into the water, a clean, sharp incision into the blue. She swam with powerful, graceful strokes, a creature utterly in her element.

After a few laps, she surfaced right at the edge where Darren stood. Water sluiced off her green hair, plastering it to her scalp and neck. She rested her elbows on the concrete, her body still submerged, her green bikini top just breaking the surface. She looked up at him, her makeup slightly smudged, giving her a raw, real beauty.

"Hey, Darren," she said, her voice slightly breathless from the swim.

Darren felt a sudden, unexpected tightness in his throat. The sight of her, soaked and powerful, looking up at him from the water, was incredibly potent. He swallowed, the motion visible.

"Hey," he replied, his voice coming out slightly huskier than intended.

Meanwhile, from her lounger, Cheyenne looked down at Olivia with jealous anger.