Emily had made the arrangements for a stay at a luxurious beachside villa. It was a detached little paradise, the kind you’d see in glossy travel magazines. Vacationing without worrying about expenses was blissful in its own right. Presenting her and Jack’s IDs at the reception, the clerk couldn't help but cast a curious glance their way, presumably wondering about the nature of their relationship.

Emily pretended not to notice as she received the room key and handed the car keys to the valet. They took the shuttle to their villa's entrance, where Emily halted the bellhop with a wave and turned to Jack. "Could you grab the luggage?"

Jack sneered, "Get it yourself."

Emily glanced his way, unfazed. "Dinner's on me."

"I don't need your dinner," Jack retorted adamantly.

In response, Emily brandished her phone, a playful threat in her voice. "Shall I order a matcha cake for your father?"

Silenced and increasingly irritated, Jack grumbled, "Is that your only trick?"

“We agreed on this before we left,” Emily shrugged, adding lightly, “I’m just here to give you the occasional nudge.”

As far as nudges went, they were effective.

Seething, Jack slammed the car door behind him, dragging both suitcases out of the trunk.

Emily, unfazed by his temper, swiped the key card and entered. She turned back, questioning, "Do you prefer light or hearty meals?"

"Whatever," Jack replied, his tone dripping with disinterest.

"Seafood congee it is," Emily decided, "You have half an hour to settle in."

Changing into a floral maxi dress appropriate for the getaway, Emily braided her hair and applied a touch of makeup, her spirits high. Her recent job switch, complete with a salary hike, meant facing fewer people—an ambition in sync with her early retirement dreams. Emily wasn't naturally ambitious, finding prolonged corporate life wearisome. However, without another road to take, she had to drive on. Earn, save, and one day, retire to travel the globe. Such was life.

Emerging from her room, Jack still bore the same self-assured air, now in a sleeveless T-shirt and cargo shorts. The ensemble paired with vibrant sneakers, a painted sports watch on one wrist, and the same silver cross on the chain around his neck.

For those unembellished with good looks, fashion was merely streetwear. But Jack's genetic lottery win earned him the enigmatic allure of a rebellious yet captivating young man—a feat only his striking features and model physique could pull off.

Emily figured—given these redeeming qualities—she could bear with him a bit longer.

“Let’s go,” Emily signaled, catching Jack’s eye.

Chilled by the breeze, she draped a light shawl over her shoulders as they passed each other, its fringe brushing Jack’s knee like the softest of feathers.

Jack's knee tensed at the unexpected touch and the subtle, invigorating fragrance that lingered, akin to the earthy yet sweet aftertaste of green tea.

As he rose, Jack’s attention was drawn to the graceful sway of Emily's back, partially revealed beneath the thin, flowing fabric, gleaming like polished jade. The sight momentarily stole his words, hinting at an unspoken and unintended allure.

“You’re not hungry?” Emily, hand on the doorframe, turned to check on him.

Jack straightened abruptly, eyes steady ahead as he brushed past her into the evening darkness that softened the blush on his cheeks.

Emily remained blissfully unaware, attributing Jack's awkwardness to adolescent stubbornness. In more practical shoes for driving, she buckled into the driver's seat as Jack silently occupied the back, perhaps out of some newfound sense of propriety.

On the road, the scene replayed in Jack’s mind, leading him into an uncharted chaos that surpassed the annoyance of being there in the first place. The refreshing scent that lingered, he realized, was unmistakably Emily’s perfume.

Her presence—there was something about it.

A fit of coughing broke the tension. Emily, eyes concerned, halted the car and turned, "You okay back there?"

She rummaged for a bottle of water from the glove compartment, offering it to Jack, who hesitated before accepting it, transfixed by the graceful, porcelain-like wrist offering relief.

As the water soothed his throat, the inner turmoil only intensified. Jack drained half in one go, frustration—alongside an alien surge of emotions—etched on his face.

"Think maybe you're not up to it, Jack?" Those words of ridicule taunted him, and Jack's grip tightened on the bottle till it nearly creaked.

Before now, Jack had never felt anything toward others. Not a spark of interest or attraction. Until this moment.

His gaze drifted to Emily’s outline in the driver’s seat. Even from this angle, the soft cascade of loose strands framing her face, her swanlike neck—those elegant details occupied his thoughts, under dim, passing streetlights.

Trying to crush the thoughts blossoming in his mind, Jack repositioned with a stiff, awkward adjustment.

What was it about this woman?

As if responding to his innermost queries, Emily stopped the car upon reaching their dinner destination. Jack hesitated momentarily before the door. In her eyes, under the faint streetlight, he looked like a young wolf, emerging from shadow—dangerous and intense.

Emily shivered, stepping back as Jack slid out, closing a comfortable gap between them, his voice a casual drawl. "Let's eat."

The sea breeze carried the warmth of his presence, an unexpected closeness, like a fleeting, fiery embrace.

If nothing else, Jack's father’s legacy of charm was apparent. Only a teenager now, he would undoubtedly grow into something more formidable—the kind you couldn’t take your eyes off.

Emily inhaled deeply before moving ahead, securing her resolve amidst the subtle but undeniable aura surrounding Jack.