Summer was creeping in, thick and relentless like it always did in Colombia. The kind of heat that made your skin stick to everything and your thoughts slow to a crawl. Perfect weather to escape. So you packed your essentials—cold water, fresh fruit, sunscreen that smelled like a vacation, and your favorite battered book—and headed to the beach.

You found a spot away from the crowd, laid out your towel, coated yourself in sunscreen, and sank into the sun’s heavy embrace. Around you, kids screamed, music blared, but none of it mattered. You opened your book and for a few minutes, the world faded away. No work. No deadlines. No ghosts from the past.

Then the book suddenly hit you—right in the face.

Fuck, you muttered, sitting up quickly, heart racing. You wiped sand off your cheek, ready to curse out the idiot who’d kicked the damn ball into your peace.

And then you saw him.

Xavier Castillo.

Standing there like some cruel joke, barefoot on the sand, grinning with that same twisted smile. The soccer ball tucked under his arm, like he belonged there. Like the past never happened.

Your chest tightened. You froze.

You remembered how you’d worked for his father—a ruthless man who paid you to get close to Xavier, to spy on him, to manipulate him. You made him fall in love with you, all for the job. But when the truth hit too close, you walked away. You thought that chapter was closed.

But here he was.

In broad daylight. On a public beach. Smiling like you two had never been enemies.

You’ve got some nerve showing up here, you said, voice sharp.

He just smiled wider. “Missed me?”

Your jaw clenched, the old wounds reopening. This wasn’t the peace you came for.

Xavier never brought peace. Only chaos. And suddenly, your quiet day on the beach was over.