Waves Of Love(GL)

Chapter 1

Zyleith's POV

📍EL NIDO PALAWAN,PHILIPPINES

                              "First Page"

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of sand beneath your toes and the soothing sound of waves crashing onto the shore. The beach is a place to relax, refresh, and experience nature at its finest.

It’s 9:46 AM, and the weather is beautiful. I woke up a little late today—I had finished a lot of work last night, nearly falling asleep on my laptop out of exhaustion.

I’m starving. I hope they’ve prepared my favorite breakfast: fried rice, a sunny-side-up egg, beef tapa, and, of course, coffee—the perfect way to start the day.

“Good morning, Ma’am.”

As I stepped into the dining area, the staff greeted me with polite smiles. I simply nodded in response.

“Breakfast is ready, Ma’am. Your favorite,” one of the staff members said cheerfully.

“Thank you. Have you all eaten?” I asked as I took the tray of food.

“Yes, Ma’am. We’re done. Enjoy your meal,” another staff member replied.

I just hummed in acknowledgment.

My table faced the sea, offering a stunning view of the waves gently lapping at the shore. The fresh air and the sight of guests strolling along the beach or paddling in the water made my appetite even better.

As I sipped my coffee, something—or rather, someone—caught my attention.

An angel…

The thought popped into my head before I could stop it.

“Ouch!”

My lips burned from the hot coffee, snapping me out of my daze. What the heck was I thinking?!

I had just seen a woman in white—a simple, elegant dress that suited her perfectly. She was stunning. A foreigner, perhaps? Asian, I guessed… but why was I analyzing her appearance so much? I shook my head and focused back on my meal.

---

I spent the rest of the morning inspecting the resort, ensuring that the guests were comfortable and satisfied with the services provided. So far, everything seemed to be running smoothly.

After that, I headed to the kitchen to check the food supplies, condiments, and other essentials needed for cooking. Most of the stock was still sufficient, except for the vegetables—we’d need to call our supplier for a new delivery.

I was about to leave when I overheard two staff members chatting as they entered the kitchen, too engrossed in their conversation to notice me.

“I’m telling you, she’s Korean. I’ll bet five hundred on it. Game?” one of them said confidently.

“Are you that sure? That’s a big bet. How about two hundred instead?” the other replied, scratching her nape shyly.

“What?! You’re so—ugh, fine, two hundred it is!” the first one huffed in disbelief.

I cleared my throat.

They both froze, eyes wide with surprise when they finally noticed me.

“We’re sorry, Ma’am,” they muttered, looking embarrassed.

I crossed my arms. “What exactly does that mean?”

“N-nothing, Ma’am,” one of them said awkwardly.

I raised an eyebrow, giving them a pointed look.

Sighing, the first girl finally admitted, “We were just talking about the beautiful guest who looks like a foreigner… and we started guessing her nationality.”

“So that’s what the bet was about?” I said, unimpressed. “You two shouldn’t be doing that.”

“But, Ma’am,” the second girl protested, “I was just trying to convince her that the guest is Japanese, based on her features.”

“No way! I’m sure she’s Korean—”

“That’s enough,” I cut in. “You both should get back to work instead of gossiping.”

They quickly apologized and hurried off.

I rubbed my forehead in disbelief before leaving the kitchen.