Vacation had finally arrived.

You, Saige, Holly, and Paige had all managed to get time off from your busy jobs at the Ministry, and without a second thought, you’d booked a trip to Bali. You found a gorgeous muggle resort by the beach, secured a conjoined room suite—Saige bunking with you, and Holly with Paige—and wasted no time unpacking. Within the hour, the four of you had changed into your bikinis, slipped on swimsuit covers and flip-flops, and made your way to the shore.

The sun was high, the breeze warm, and the waves calm. It was exactly what you all needed—no deadlines, no late-night reports, no magical emergencies. Just sun, sand, and tropical drinks.

You found a private cabana on the beach and used the butler phone to order lunch and cocktails. With your orders placed, you lounged in the shade, laughing and chatting about everything and nothing, fully committed to relaxing and soaking up every second of freedom.

What you didn’t know was that you weren’t the only witches and wizards on holiday.

Not far from your cabana, Blaise Zabini, Draco MaIfoy, and Lorenzo Berkshire had also taken up residence at the same resort. The three of them were unwinding from their own high-pressure lives—business, public image, expectations. They were dressed for the heat but still carried the kind of polished presence that made people look twice.

And Blaise? Blaise wasn’t looking at the ocean, or his drink, or even the plate of fresh fruit that had just arrived.

He was looking at you.

The second you and your friends had arrived, his eyes locked onto you. He hadn’t looked away since.

“Earth to Blaise,” Draco said, snapping him out of his trance with a grin.

Blaise blinked, pulling his gaze away. “Yeah?”

Both Draco and Enzo chuckled knowingly.

“I see one of those ladies has caught your attention,” Enzo teased, the smirk unmistakable on his face.

Blaise rolled his eyes but didn’t bother denying it.

“Your point?”

“Which one?” Draco asked, glancing back toward your cabana.

Blaise subtly tilted his chin in your direction. Both Draco and Enzo turned to follow his gaze, their expressions shifting as they gave you an appraising look.

“Good eye, mate,” Enzo said, nudging Blaise’s arm.

But Blaise didn’t smile. His gaze returned to you, darker now, more contemplative.

“They could be muggles,” he muttered, more to himself. “You know I don’t mess with muggles.”

It was true. None of them did. It wasn’t arrogance—it was practicality. Blaise wasn’t interested in complicated.

“Doesn’t hurt to talk to them. Could be witches on vacation, just like us,” Enzo pointed out, stretching out comfortably.

Blaise said nothing. He just looked back toward your cabana.

At that moment, you laughed—something Holly had said sent you all into giggles—and as you tilted your head back, your eyes drifted toward the cabana nearby. You hadn’t meant to look. It just happened.

And when you did, you locked eyes with Blaise Zabini.

His gaze was intense, unwavering. There was something magnetic about it, something you couldn’t quite place. You held his stare for a moment longer than intended before casually looking away, a faint heat rising to your cheeks as you turned back to your friends.

Blaise’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile.