A Dance with Danger

Chapter Thirty-One

**Estelle POV**

The journey to the island was anything but ordinary. Tiberius had chartered a private plane, its sleek interior outfitted with every luxury imaginable. I sipped champagne as we soared over endless blue ocean, the tension between us ebbing and flowing with the hum of the engines. 

By the time we landed on a private airstrip, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting the island in a golden glow. The lush greenery and white-sand beaches were straight out of a postcard, but the sprawling villa nestled among the trees stole my breath. 

"You live like this, and you still grumble about resorts?" I muttered as we climbed into a waiting jeep. 

Tiberius smirked. "Resorts are for tourists. This is for me." 

The villa was even more impressive up close. Modern architecture blended seamlessly with natural elements, creating a space that was both luxurious and inviting. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered panoramic views of the ocean, and the infinity pool seemed to spill into the horizon. 

"Okay, I’ll admit, this is... beautiful," I said as I stepped onto the terrace, the cool ocean breeze brushing against my skin. 

Tiberius came up behind me, his presence commanding as always. "Beautiful enough to make you stay?" 

I glanced at him, noting the way the setting sun softened his sharp features. For a moment, I forgot about his infuriating arrogance, his penchant for control. 

"We’ll see," I said, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a clear answer. 

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The first day was... peaceful. Too peaceful.

I spent the afternoon lounging by the pool, soaking up the sun, the  sound of the waves crashing against the shore providing a calming backdrop. The island was everything I had imagined and more—tropical, secluded, and picture-perfect in every way.

Yet, despite the natural beauty surrounding me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease settling deep in my chest. I should have been enjoying this, I should have been savoring every moment, but instead, I was left to face the cold emptiness of the villa, alone.

Tiberius had disappeared into his office—because, of course, he had an office, even here. I hadn’t expected him to completely disengage from work, but I hadn’t expected him to distance himself from me so thoroughly either. The whole point of this trip was for us to spend time together, yet it felt like I was a ghost wandering through a house that wasn’t mine.

I tried not to let it bother me, telling myself that I should relax, enjoy the luxury, and forget about everything else for a while. But as the hours dragged on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, I found myself growing restless.

For dinner I was making 'us' some Spaghetti and meatballs. I choose all my vegetables as my meatballs baked and my spaghetti noodles boiled.

I found peace as I cooked,not happing to worry about papparazzi's or Tiberius.

As the smell of garlic and tomatoes filled the villa, I allowed myself to relax for the first time since we landed. Cooking always grounded me, a small slice of normalcy in an otherwise surreal existence. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the simmering sauce on the stove created a soothing melody, drowning out the faint hum of tension that seemed to follow Tiberius everywhere he went.

I plated the meal carefully, arranging the spaghetti and meatballs with a sprinkle of fresh parsley. Stepping back to admire my work, I felt a flicker of pride. It wasn’t much, but it was something I’d done for us, even if “us” felt more like a concept than a reality at the moment.