Diana slowly opened her eyes. A dull ache throbbed in her head as she looked around the unfamiliar cottage, its cozy interior decorated with care.
"Umm..." she murmured, squinting against the light.
Outside, the cries of seagulls grew louder. Through the window, she saw waves crashing against the shore. Her gaze shifted to the bed... where a man's shirt lay neatly beside her.
Where am I?
Her heart skipped.
She touched her forehead, trying to remember. Then her eyes dropped to her own outfit... shorts and a bra.
"What the hell?" she whispered. "Who changed my clothes?"
Last night... I was kidnapped.
The memory hit hard. Her breath quickened as she scanned the room. The presence of the man's shirt confirmed she wasn't alone.
She jumped out of bed, threw on the oversized shirt, and looked around the small cottage. Moving quickly, she stepped into another room... plates and utensils hinted someone had just eaten.
Instinct took over. She rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and crept outside.
But instead of danger, she was met with a surreal sight.
People... girls, boys, even couples... wandered about casually.
Laughter echoed.
The sun shone.
The ocean breeze swept through.
Diana froze.
"What...?" she breathed, the knife hidden under the shirt.
She watched, tense and confused. The cheerful atmosphere felt completely out of place. Her mind raced.
Where am I? Why does this feel like a beach, not a trap?
She needed to make a call. But the cottage had no phone, no mobile, nothing.
Then, movement caught her eye.
A man walked toward her.
Tall.
Calm.
Familiar.
Her eyes narrowed.
Disbelief washed over her.
Max!
Max approached, wearing red shorts and carrying a surfboard. Droplets of seawater clung to his body, evidence he'd just come from the ocean. Diana's eyes narrowed as she noticed the group of girls hovering near him, all vying for his attention.
Crossing her arms, she waited.
He reached her with a smirk.
"You're awake. Feeling okay?"
She didn't answer his question. Instead, she cut straight to the point.
"What am I doing here? You said you were going on a mission. What is this?"
Max shrugged casually.
"Relax. We came here to unwind."
Diana stared at him, stunned.
"What?"
Max gave a playful grin.
"Yeah, darling. This is our time away. Just the two of us."
He slid a hand around her waist. Diana stiffened.
"So it was you," she muttered, realizing the truth.
Max beamed, pleased with himself.
But she wasn't. Her eyes narrowed.
"Who changed my clothes?"
Max blinked, trying to play innocent. That was all the confirmation she needed.
"You?" she snapped, her voice sharp.
She shoved him back.
"You're sick. Don't touch me."
She stormed toward the cottage, fury in her stride. Max stood still, confused.
"But… what did I do?"
Before he could process more, another girl approached.
"Excuse me," she said, smiling up at him.
Max lowered his sunglasses, gave her a polite smile, and started chatting.
From the cottage steps, Diana glanced back. Her breath caught when she saw him talking—smiling—with the girl. He wasn't even looking for her.
Her jaw tightened.
He knew she was watching. When their eyes met, Max's grin lingered—teasing, playful, maybe even calculated.
Diana turned away, refusing to let it show. She walked back inside, slammed the door shut, and sat on the bed, seething.
"He's out there flirting," she muttered, "so why drag me here at all?"
Determined to leave, she stood. But as she headed for the door, Max walked in.
She turned her back on him, arms crossed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping closer.
She didn't look at him.
"Why are you here?" she asked coldly. Then, with a harder edge, "Finished talking with her?"
Max didn't answer directly. Instead, he stepped closer with a teasing smile.
"Why?" he asked, tilting his head. "Are you jealous?"
Diana turned to face him, her expression cool and composed. A faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Why would I be jealous, Max? You mean nothing to me."
Max raised his brows, clearly amused.
"Oh, really?" he said with mock surprise. "Then I guess I'll go. Wouldn't want to keep a pretty lady waiting."
Diana narrowed her eyes, not letting him off that easily.
"Before you do, give me back my passport. I have work to do."
Max turned away, rubbing his hair with a towel.
"I lost it," he said, casually.
Diana stepped forward, her tone sharp.
"Max, I need to go back."
Before she could say more, Max tossed the towel aside, grabbed her by the hair, and kissed her... hard.
She froze at first, shocked by the sudden move, but then her resistance faded. Her hands found his, and the kiss deepened, charged and raw.
When they finally pulled apart, Diana's breath was unsteady. Her eyes still burned with anger, but she didn't speak. Max held her hands and gently looked into her eyes.
"Just give me a chance, Diana," he said quietly. "I'll talk to Francisco. I'm done with shady business."
Her expression wavered, unsure if she should believe him.
"Are you… really..."
Max cut her off.
"Just believe me," he said, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Change your clothes," he added softly. "We'll go out."
Diana didn't answer. She nodded once, turned, and went back inside the cottage.
Will you really change, Max?