Chapter 2

The golden rays of the morning sun began their slow and gentle assault on the fading darkness that had enshrouded the world. Amid this peaceful transition, the melodious morning songs of the little birds struggled to compete with the resounding roars of the ocean waves crashing upon the shore. The breeze, moist with the salty sea air, carried a damp chill, yet the overall atmosphere felt inviting and full of promise. The sun-soaked sand grains, kissed by the early sunlight, were gradually surrendering their warmth to the cool embrace of the sea, creating an exquisite interplay of sensations—thirst and tranquillity merging into one.

The morning at this picturesque cabin was more enchanting than even the most ravishing of nights. The cabin, a rustic wooden haven by the seashore, stood proudly upon sturdy wooden pillars, inviting visitors to ascend the flight of stairs leading to the front door.

As one ventured inside, they'd be greeted by an aesthetically pleasing sitting area adorned with a modest library. The cabin boasted two rooms, a delightful kitchen, and a small storeroom. What truly defined the cabin's character was its rich dark woodwork harmonizing with the ethereal, billowing white curtains. These curtains, animated by the gentle breeze flowing through open windows, seemed to dance in silent celebration.

Upon crossing the sitting area, one would find the doors to the two rooms, both currently shut. One room stood silent and vacant, exuding an air of solitude. Within its confines, only an empty bed, a dressing table, and a closet occupied the space. The windows were tightly sealed shut, shrouding the room in darkness, with not a glimmer of light escaping.

The second room, in stark contrast, held a different ambience. It was saturated with a delightful fragrance, a blend of a woman's perfume and the intoxicating scent of a man. In this room, a man lay soundly asleep, cocooned in a warm blanket. His arm shielded his eyes from the morning light, providing him a sanctuary of peaceful slumber. Seated on the bed beside him was a woman named Lucy Griffin.

Lucy gazed tenderly at the man, her eyes mirroring the warmth of the morning sun. A soft smile graced her lips, accentuating her own radiant beauty. Her face shone like gold, her eyes were as deep as the ocean, and thoughts of the previous night's intimacy painted her cheeks with a gentle blush. Her dark brown, curly hair had been elegantly tied into a bun, and she wore a white shirt that seemed to belong more to the man lying beside her.

As the man stirred in his sleep, he shifted slightly, turning to face the bed and revealing a part of his face. Lucy inched closer to him, her fingers tracing intricate, mysterious patterns on his back. She whispered tenderly, "Dark, Dark."

The man, still half-submerged in dreams, emitted a soft, noncommittal murmur. Lucy persisted, her voice barely above a whisper, "Dark, wake up. We're running late."

His response was another sleepy murmur as if the layers of slumber were not yet ready to relinquish their hold on him. Lucy pressed her lips affectionately to his back, adding a hint of urgency to her whispers.

"Dark, we need to get going. I'm waiting for you to wake up so we can head back. We have a flight in two hours," Lucy's voice remained soft, each word imbued with affection. Slowly but surely, the man turned over, drawing her close into a loving embrace, his lips forming a contented smile.

"Good morning, my love," he greeted her, bestowing a tender kiss upon her forehead.

"Good morning to you too," she replied, her head now resting gently upon his chest. In this intimate embrace, they lingered for a few precious moments, the world outside their sanctuary seemingly standing still.

However, reality gently nudged them back to their purpose. "We need to get ready and leave," Lucy reminded, her voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and eagerness.

With a subtle nod, the man agreed. "Alright, let's go take a shower," he suggested, the spark of determination gleaming in his eyes. Lucy nodded in agreement, and they both began to prepare for the day ahead.

Yet, even as they moved about the cabin, a question lingered in the air, unspoken but palpable. Lucy couldn't help but voice it, her gaze searching his eyes, "Dark, are you sure about this?"

The man met her gaze with unwavering conviction, his tone carrying a depth of certainty. "Lucy, do you trust me?"

"I trust you with my life," Lucy affirmed without a trace of doubt. She nodded in agreement as Dark assured her, "So, don't worry! We will be fine. I have to do it." They shared a mutual understanding, their expressions mirroring each other's determination.

"If we succeed, it will be our biggest win," Lucy remarked with a smug smirk, her eyes dancing with anticipation. Dark's expression mirrored her confidence, his eyes holding a similar gleam.

Lucy shifted gears to deliver some important news. "There was a call for you," she informed him, a curious gleam in her eyes.

"For me? Who called?" Dark asked, genuine surprise evident in his tone.

"You never told me you have a sister," Lucy noted, raising an eyebrow as her gaze locked onto his.

Dark appeared momentarily taken aback, his thoughts racing before he nodded and replied, "Yeah, I do have a sister. But it's old news. Not very important."

Lucy wasn't convinced. "It's important now. A girl called late last night, claiming she needed help. She said she's your sister," she revealed, noticing the slight furrow forming on Dark's forehead.

"Help?" Dark repeated the word from her previous sentence, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Yeah, she said she's in some trouble," Lucy elaborated.

"Alright, we'll look into it later. For now, we have to catch our flight. Go take a shower and get ready. I need to make a few phone calls," Dark instructed, the change in his tone indicating his need for privacy. Lucy got up and headed into the bathroom.

Once she had left, Dark shifted on the bed. He moved toward Lucy's side table and retrieved his phone, lifting his body from the bed and sitting in the corner. Deep in thought, he contemplated the situation.

Dark's broad shoulders stiffened, accentuating his well-defined muscular physique—a testament to his regular gym workouts and physical training. He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair to settle it, then rose from the bed with purpose.

Exiting his room clad in shorts, Dark's chiselled abs gleamed like polished metal, and the muscles in his arms appeared as rigid as steel. Nerves popped beneath his tanned skin as he adjusted his hair, a characteristic gesture of his deep in thought.

Dark walked toward the front door, opened it, and stepped outside. Descending the stairs, he headed toward the sea, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore accompanying his contemplation.

After covering a meaningful distance, he took out his phone and studied the screen. He redialed the unknown number from his call history, the phone ringing multiple times with no response. Undeterred, he dialled the number again, and this time, someone picked up.

"Hello, Dark?" a woman's voice emerged from the speaker.

"Simara!!!" Dark exclaimed, instantly recognizing his sister's voice among millions.