Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
It’s the kind of place where everyone looks like they have at least one surname that could get them out of legal trouble, and where no one has ever had to google how much is too much to spend on skincare.
I exhale slowly, plucking a glass of champagne from a passing tray.
I can do this. I can blend into the background, ignore everything, and simply exist in peaceful anonymity for the next few hours.
At least, that’s the plan.
* * *
A short while later, I grip to one of the railings as the yacht sets sail.
It happens smoothly, almost imperceptibly at first. A slight shift, a barely-there motion beneath my feet.
But as we move further from the shore, the hum of engines and the gentle rocking of the water make it clear: we’re officially out at sea.
I glance over the railing, watching as the Monaco skyline starts to shrink in the distance, the afternoon sun casting brilliant streaks over the deep blue water.
Well. I suppose there’s no getting off now.
I take a sip of my champagne, scanning the crowd as the yacht glides further out into the water.
I can already tell Leah is in her element. She’s chatting easily with a group of people I don’t recognise, her effortless charm turning heads wherever she moves. Em, Jas and I are left standing at the edge of the deck, watching the chaos unfold like we’re at a nature documentary screening.
“This is going to be one of those days, isn’t it?” Jas murmurs, sipping her drink.
I sigh. “I have a feeling.”
Emma glances at the party, then back at the two of us.
“Alright, if she’s going to be off flirting with old men all afternoon, then let’s at least make this interesting. Want to go explore?”
I glance down at my half-finished champagne. I could either stand here all afternoon and try to look like I belong amongst billionaire-adjacent people, or I could actually do something to pass the time.
“Fine,” I nod. “Let’s go.”
We set off, weaving through the crowd - past groups of women who look like models draped over sun loungers and men who twist their wrists to make sure the sunlight catches the faces of their watches.
I’ve never been on a yacht before, and I can’t quite get over just how enormous it is. The main deck is lined with marble-topped bars, while the upper levels host private seating areas.
“Of course there’s a hot tub,” Jas mutters as we blink up at the stern.
“Of course,” I agree.
We round a corner, heading toward another sleek outdoor bar, when -
“Ah,” a smooth, familiar voice drawls. “Look who it is.”
I freeze, caught completely off guard.
Ever so slowly, I turn on my heel, my expression hardening further by the millisecond.
Frederic Moreau, smug as ever, is reclining on a sunbed like he’s posing for the cover of a luxury lifestyle magazine.
He’s wearing a dark, oversized shirt that’s slightly unbuttoned, paired with beige linen shorts that make him look infuriatingly effortless. A pair of sunglasses sit perched on the bridge of his ridiculously straight nose, and his lips are curled into the smirk of a man who knows exactly how much he’s about to ruin my afternoon.
Worse?
He’s not alone.
A small group of men, all similarly dressed in casual but undeniably expensive clothes, are gathered around him. It’s clear that they were mid-conversation before we arrived, and they exchange curious glances, their attention shifting between Frederic and I like they’re sizing up the situation.
I have no idea what he’s told them, but judging by their amused expressions, I hate him impossibly more for it.
“You again,” I sigh, taking a long sip of my champagne and pretending I’m unbothered by his presence.
I’d much rather toss my drink in his stupidly perfect face, but, you know - appearances.
Frederic lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured sip of the dark liquid, his eyes still locked onto mine as if he has all the time in the world.
I shift my weight, suddenly far too aware of how the silk of my dress clings to my skin, how the sea breeze catches strands of my blonde hair, how his annoyingly blue eyes don’t miss a single detail. Meanwhile, his friends exchange glances, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to outright amusement.
I’m painfully aware that I’m not alone either.
Behind me, Emma and Jas have stopped their own conversation, curiosity practically radiating off them. I don’t need to turn around to know that Emma is grinning and Jas is smirking as they watch us, as if this is the best reality show they’ve ever seen.
“You sound thrilled to see me,” he smirks, his gaze flicking lazily over my body. “As always.”
“I’d say it’s more of a resigned acceptance,” I reply dryly.
One of his friends chuckles, and I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that I’m currently providing their entertainment, or the fact that Frederic himself looks like he’s having the time of his life.