Romance

The private island in the Maldives felt like a deceptive paradise. The clear blue sky, warm white sand, and calm, rippling sea seemed to hide all the dark secrets Amelie carried in her heart. Aaron Vargas, the man who had trapped her in this golden cage, was also there, his shadow looming large amid the natural beauty.

Rossie, her little daughter, was once so innocent, so longing for a father figure. "Papa!" the joyful cry often slipped from her tiny lips whenever Aaron approached the beach or the villa. Amelie's heart ached every time she heard that call. He's not your father, Rossie. He's not. However, she couldn't bring herself to correct her, unable to take away the false happiness her daughter felt. Aaron himself never responded to the call directly, only occasionally nodding stiffly or curving his lips into a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes.

However, children have their own

The brown envelope still lay on the table, but to Aaron, its contents felt like a time bomb that had just exploded, shattering what little peace he had left. Tom Smith. That name was not just a string of letters on paper. It was a dark shadow from the past that he had tried to bury deep inside. Tom was a pawn that had fallen in the chess game between himself and Henry, and now Aaron realized that he had married the widow of the man whose death was his responsibility.
How could fate drag him right into my arms? Aaron thought, his trembling fingers touching the attached photo of Amelie.
The photo showed a slightly younger Amelie, smiling faintly at the camera with eyes that had not yet been dimmed by grief. Her resemblance to Laura was beyond logic. Aaron stared at her jawline, the curve of her lips, and the look in her eyes that seemed to demand accountability. The guilt he had directed s

Aaron stopped moving. Silence hung in the air. Slowly, Aaron lifted his head, turned his chair, and looked at Amelie with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes radiated something difficult to interpret, a mixture of surprise and cold calculation.

"Your birthday?" he asked, his voice flat again, his icy mask back in place. "What did you expect, Amelie? A lavish party in the middle of this situation?" There was a sharp note of sarcasm in his words.

Amelie felt her cheeks heat up, embarrassment and anger mingling together. Of course, Aaron Vargas wouldn't understand. She knew her question was stupid, but she just wanted to see what would happen. She sighed, looking at Rossie, who was still fast asleep. An idea flashed through her mind.

"Not for me," Amelie replied, her voice now calmer, even though her heart was pounding. She looked at Aaron again, trying to appear convincing. "For Rossie. She... she'll be four soon. She loves birthdays, even though she's never had a proper one." Her voice softened when she mentioned Rossie. It wasn't a complete lie. Rossie did deserve to celebrate.

Aaron's eyes looked at Amelie, then shifted to Rossie, who was fast asleep. Something vague, like a ripple on a calm surface, appeared in his dark eyes. He looked at his stepdaughter for a moment, as if weighing something, then looked back at Amelie.

"You love her very much, don't you?" His voice was still cold, but there was a hint of question in it, not just a statement.

Amelie didn't answer, only nodded slowly, her gaze determined. Rossie was my whole world.

Aaron got up from his chair, walked over to the bed, and stood beside Amelie. He looked at the tiny Rossie, sleeping soundly with a brown teddy bear in her arms. His hand rose, as if to touch Rossie's hair, but he pulled it back, as if afraid of burning himself. Aaron glanced at Amelie, his expression still vague.

"A party at the hotel is out of the question," he said, his voice low. "It would attract unnecessary attention. Too risky."

Amelie thought it was a rejection. Disappointment hit her, but she tried to hide it. Of course. Why did I expect more from this cold man?

But Aaron didn't stop. He turned toward the window, looking out into the darkness of the night. "I have a private island in the Maldives. We'll go there."

Amelie's eyes widened in surprise. The Maldives? A private island? She couldn't hide her shock. This... this was beyond her expectations.

"This isn't a lavish celebration, Amelie," Aaron added, as if reading her mind. "It's just a short vacation. To... keep Rossie calm. And you... you'll stay under my supervision." Aaron turned, staring at Amelie with a sharp gaze. "Don't try anything stupid."

The threat returned, reminding Amelie of her position. But the Maldives... for Rossie. That thought gave her a glimmer of hope. She nodded, still in disbelief.
A few days later, everything felt like a dream. Amelie, Rossie, and Aaron flew in a private jet. Rossie, who had never traveled far before, repeatedly pressed her face against the window, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the clouds below them. Amelie saw a slight smile on Aaron's face as he watched his daughter's reaction, a smile that was almost imperceptible, but definitely there.

Upon landing at the small airport, they were greeted by a helicopter that took them to Aaron's private island. As soon as the helicopter landed, Amelie gasped. Soft white sand glistened in the sunlight, the sea was crystal clear with stunning shades of blue-green, coconut trees swayed in the breeze, and a magnificent modern villa with a thatched roof faced the sea. It was paradise.

Rossie jumped out of the helicopter, her eyes wide with amazement. "Mama! Water!" She immediately ran towards the beach, laughing cheerfully.

Amelie looked at Aaron, whose face was still expressionless, but there was something different about him. Maybe this was the place where he found peace. A place where he could forget his cruelty for a moment.

The first few days passed with Amelie feeling constantly on guard. Aaron spent most of his time inside the villa, working in his high-tech office. Amelie spent her time on the beach with Rossie, feeling a deceptive sense of freedom. Rossie was very happy. She ran around on the sand, chasing small waves and collecting colorful shells. Seeing her daughter's cheerful laughter, Amelie felt a little happiness seep into her, forgetting for a moment the shackles that bound her.

That afternoon, Rossie was busy building a makeshift sand castle on the beach. Amelie sat beside her, helping to pile up wet sand. The sun began to set, coloring the sky with a spectrum of orange, pink, and purple.

Suddenly, Amelie saw Aaron walking out of the villa. He was wearing shorts and a plain white T-shirt, a stark contrast to his expensive suits in the city. His hair was slightly tousled by the sea breeze. He walked slowly along the shore, his gaze straight ahead, as if unaware of Amelie and Rossie's presence. Amelie felt her heart beating fast. Don't let Rossie disturb him, she thought.

However, Rossie saw him. Her small, sparkling eyes followed Aaron's silhouette. "Papa!" Rossie exclaimed innocently, without hesitation, then ran towards Aaron.

Amelie gasped. Papa? Since when did Rossie call Aaron that? She knew Rossie missed having a father figure, but that call felt like a dagger piercing her heart. She saw Aaron stop, his body tense slightly at the sound of the call.

Aaron turned, looking at the tiny Rossie running towards him. His cold expression cracked slightly, replaced by confusion.

"Papa, let's play in the sand!" Rossie exclaimed, pulling Aaron's hand with her small fingers. She pointed to her almost-finished sandcastle. "Look, Papa! Rossie's sandcastle!"

Aaron looked at the small hand holding his, then at Rossie's hopeful face. Amelie watched from afar, holding her breath. She waited for Aaron to coldly send Rossie away, to put his devilish mask back on.

But Aaron didn't. Slowly, Aaron knelt down, bringing himself to Rossie's height. His gaze at Rossie was much softer than Amelie had ever seen. A small wrinkle appeared on his forehead, as if he was processing unfamiliar emotions.

"A sand castle?" Aaron asked softly.

Rossie nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! But Rossie can't make a tall tower. Can Papa help Rossie?"

Aaron looked at the crooked sand tower, then glanced at Amelie, who was still sitting frozen. There was something in Amelie's gaze that made him feel strange. He looked back at Rossie, whose eyes were shining with hope. Aaron sighed, a sound that was almost inaudible.

Then, something unexpected happened. Aaron nodded. "Sure," he said. His voice was still stiff, but he began to try. He took the small shovel from Rossie's hand, then carefully began to pile up the wet sand. His large hands, which were used to holding a pen or controlling a board of directors, sometimes even wielding a firearm, now awkwardly formed clumps of sand.

Rossie laughed cheerfully, squealing with delight. "Yee! Daddy's helping!" She jumped around Aaron, giving simple instructions. "Higher, Daddy! More water!"

Aaron listened, and to Amelie's surprise, he followed Rossie's instructions. Slowly, the cold mask on Aaron's face loosened a little. He even smiled slightly when Rossie scolded him for putting too much sand on one side. The smile, though faint, was a sincere one, with no trace of cruelty in it.
Amelie stared at them, tears welling up in her eyes. Not tears of sadness, but of confusion. Aaron Vargas, the man who killed without mercy, the man who threatened her, was now sitting on the sand, playing with his daughter with a smile on his face. It was a sight she never expected to witness. Aaron, the arrogant CEO, looked like an ordinary father spending time with his child.

A few moments later, Rossie's sand castle was complete, complete with a tall, sturdy tower, built with Aaron's help. Rossie hugged Aaron's legs tightly. "Thank you, Daddy!"

Aaron patted Rossie's head gently, as if the gesture came naturally to him. There was a strange tenderness in his eyes as he looked at Rossie. A tenderness that Amelie thought Aaron was incapable of.

Aaron then got up, brushing the sand off his hands. He glanced at Amelie, his gaze returning to its usual formality, as if the moment had never happened. But Amelie could see it. A small crack in his mask. A crack opened by Rossie.

That night, after Rossie fell fast asleep in the luxurious bed, Amelie sat on the villa balcony, gazing at the stars scattered across the Maldivian sky. Aaron was also there, at the end of the balcony, sipping whiskey. The silence between them was different this time. It was no longer suffocating, but filled with unspoken questions.

Amelie approached Aaron and, once she was right in front of him, she gave him a sweet smile. 

"Thank you, Mr. Aaron."

"Hmmm... Rossie is very happy here, and..."

Amelie didn't continue her sentence. She wanted to apologize for Rossie calling Aaron "papa."

"You don't have to be too shy, I don't mind being called papa by Rossie, she's still young, her memory isn't very good yet."

"Once again, thank you," Amelie replied, looking at Aaron.

Amelie knew that Aaron Vargas was a monster. But Rossie... Rossie had seen another side of Aaron. The vulnerable side, the almost human side. Could Aaron not be entirely a demon? That question troubled Amelie. The burning hatred within her began to shift, replaced by deeper confusion. She had to remain vigilant, but the seed of doubt had been planted.


The private island in the Maldives felt like a deceptive paradise. The clear blue sky, warm white sand, and calm, rippling sea seemed to hide all the dark secrets Amelie carried in her heart. Aaron Vargas, the man who had trapped her in this golden cage, was also there, his shadow looming large amid the natural beauty.

Rossie, her little daughter, was once so innocent, so longing for a father figure. "Papa!" the joyful cry often slipped from her tiny lips whenever Aaron approached the beach or the villa. Amelie's heart ached every time she heard that call. He's not your father, Rossie. He's not. However, she couldn't bring herself to correct her, unable to take away the false happiness her daughter felt. Aaron himself never responded to the call directly, only occasionally nodding stiffly or curving his lips into a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes.

However, children have their own sensitivity. As the days passed, Rossie began to notice the difference. Perhaps it was from the occ

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