Beneath the surface: Forbidden Love

Two

Marisela

After a long fourteen-hour flight, the plane descended onto the runway of Calarrad, a tropical paradise that seemed to emerge straight out of a dream. The island, bathed in the warm glow of the sun, was encircled by the mesmerizing hues of clear blue waters, and adorned with lush, exotic plantations. The air was a delightful mix of warmth and sweetness, a vivid reminder of the endless summer my mother had often described.

As I stepped off the private plane, I immediately regretted not heeding my mother's advice about the island's climate. My outfit, though stylish, was hardly suitable for the balmy weather of Calarrad.

Waiting for me was a sleek black Mercedes, a stark contrast to the vibrant natural backdrop. Beside the car stood two men, both tall and strikingly handsome, but distinctly different in appearance. The first, a melanin-rich man with a well-built frame, was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants. His companion, equally tall but bulkier and with a tanned complexion, wore a similar attire. Their presence was imposing, yet there was a certain warmth in their demeanor.

As I approached, I noticed their eyes widen momentarily, a reaction I've become accustomed to from strangers. The first man, with an inviting smile, introduced himself.

"Good afternoon Princess, my name is Cory," he said, his smile radiant. He gestured towards his companion, "and this is Victor." Victor, his face stoic and his green eyes piercing, simply nodded. Standing before them, I couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated; they were not only physically imposing but also had an air of quiet strength about them.

With a friendly smile, I greeted them, "Hello, I am Marisela, pleased to meet you both." They both acknowledged my request with a nod.

Cory then gestured towards the car, explaining, "This is your personal car during your stay. As your bodyguard, I'll be your driver and accompany you around the island. Should I be unavailable, Victor will be at your service." I expressed my gratitude with a nod, appreciating the thoroughness of their arrangements.

Cory courteously opened the car door for me, waiting patiently as I climbed in, offering him a small thank you, while Victor, silent yet efficient, loaded my luggage into the vehicle.

In that moment, as I settled into the luxurious confines of the car, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and curiosity about what my stay in Calarrad would entail, especially under the watchful eyes of Cory and Victor.

Seated comfortably in the back of the sleek Mercedes, I found myself stealing glances at Cory and Victor, who took their places in the driver and passenger seats, respectively.

"Ready?" Cory's voice broke the silence, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. I responded with a nod and a smile, signaling the start of our journey away from the airport.

The drive was mostly quiet, filled with occasional smiles from Cory and a persistent silence from Victor. I sensed a stiffness in Victor, as if my very presence was a source of discomfort for him.

As we drove closer to the city, the beauty of the island unfolded before my eyes. It was a tapestry of colors and life, more stunning than I had imagined. The local people, with their distinct style, added to the island's charm. The women, draped in long, flowing dresses adorned with jewelry reminiscent of ancient Roman attire, moved with a grace that was captivating.

Their necks and wrists were embellished with ornaments that sparkled under the sun. In contrast, the men dressed more modernly, their attire a blend of traditional and contemporary fashion. This blend of styles was not only beautiful but also spoke volumes about the island's rich culture and history.