CHAPTER 270: HALF-NAKED DISASTER MAGNET

Chapter 270 – Half-naked Disaster Magnet

"I’ll be back," she announced to her staff.

And she dove in.

The water embraced her instantly, cool and sharp, sliding across her skin like glass. For a moment, she was just Elyndra again—not Vireleth the boardroom strategist, not Rava and Naomi’s friend, not the woman babysitting a half-naked disaster magnet. Just a body in water, moving toward him.

She surfaced right beside him, wet hair streaming down her back.

"Oh," Lux said, smiling like he’d been expecting her all along. "You join me at last."

"Yes," Ely replied, brushing her hair back, trying not to shiver under his gaze. "Because you make that face again."

He tilted his head. "What face?"

"That lonely face," she said softly. "Like you’re innocent... when you’re not."

Lux’s smirk softened. He leaned slightly closer, voice teasing but edged with something warmer. "So... you came to heal me?"

He spread his arms out, mock-ceremonial. "I’m ready."

Her cheeks flushed hot. "Not that kind of healing."

"Oh?"

"This one. You need to heal this."

She pointed directly to his chest. Her finger brushed the water and tapped against the smooth skin just above his heart.

Lux blinked, then looked down at where she pointed. "...I need to heal my nipple?"

Her blush exploded. "No! Your—your heart, Lux. Your heart."

And then he laughed. The sound rolled out of him low and rich, warm enough to melt glaciers. He leaned closer, resting one elbow on the pool ledge.

"I was just messing around," he said, grin tugging. Then, quieter. "But thank you. At least I know you care."

Her breath caught. "Can you not flirt with me?"

He sighed dramatically. "Sadly... no." Then, his tone shifted, softening into something honest. "I don’t think I can turn it off anymore."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

Lux’s eyes didn’t leave hers. For once, his smirk faltered. "Maybe I’ve lived like this too long. I’m either in this mode—" he gestured lazily to his body, his smile, the sheer charm radiating from him "—or I’m in my CFO mode. You know the mode when you need to be the leader or the negotiator so everything could run smoothly. I don’t know how to be anything else."

Her chest ached again. "Don’t you think that’s a little sad?"

Lux frowned faintly, gaze dropping to the water. His voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful. "No. I mean... It’s efficient."

Silence.

Ripples spread out between them. The sound of the city buzzed faintly in the distance, muted by height and luxury.

"But," Lux added suddenly, breaking the tension with a slight grin, "I am trying to relax now. See? I’ve even lowered my coffee intake."

She blinked. "You... what?"

He leaned closer, conspiratorial. "Only four cups today."

Ely stared. "Four?"

"What? That’s progress. Three espresso and one Americano."

Her lips parted. Then closed. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. This man. This ridiculous, impossible man.

She shook her head, unable to hide her smile. "You’re insane."

"Efficiently insane," he corrected.

The water swirled softly around them.

And Ely knew—this was dangerous.

Because every second she spent with him made her heart pound louder. Every smile, every teasing line, every moment his tired gaze cracked open just enough to let her see the man underneath the CFO mask... it chipped away at her defenses.

Lux stretched in the water, hair slicked back, droplets rolling down his jaw like they were competing to be the luckiest molecules in existence. He glanced at her, casual, like he wasn’t detonating her professional composure with every movement.

"Lunch," he said simply. "Mind to accompany me? I’m new to this place, so... give me a recommendation. Something that could heal me."

Her lips parted slightly. Heal him. He said it so easily, like it wasn’t a knife through her composure. She forced herself to nod. "Fine."

"Nice," he replied, smiling like he’d already known her answer. "I might even host a housewarming party tomorrow. If the renovation’s finished."

"Already?" she asked, eyebrows arching. "You just moved in."

Lux smirked. "Efficiency, Ely. Haven’t you learned that’s my brand?"

She wanted to roll her eyes, but her chest betrayed her with a flutter instead.

"Anyway," he went on, leaning back in the water, "I’ll go change my clothes then—"

"That’s unnecessary," she cut in, maybe a little too fast. "We have a pool restaurant here. Near the private tubs. You can choose a floating lunch or go poolside for steak or seafood."

Lux paused. His smile stretched slow, deliberate. "Oh. Okay then. Let’s go."

And with that, he swam toward the edge.

Ely’s brain screamed ’don’t look’. Her eyes said absolutely look.

He emerged from the pool in one smooth, powerful motion—hands braced, muscles flexing, water cascading down every plane of his body. The cursed trunks clung to him again, plastering against his skin like they’d been summoned by her worst impulses.

Her gaze betrayed her before she could stop it.

There.

Always there.

Gods, why did it have to look like that?

Her throat went dry. Her heart skipped, tripped, and nearly filed for bankruptcy.

And the bastard knew.

Because as he straightened, running one hand through his wet hair, he glanced at her with that sly, knowing look. The kind that said he’d already clocked her staring, already profited from it, and probably planned to tax her soul later for the privilege.

"Coming?" he asked, his voice smooth, effortless.

Ely snapped her gaze up to his face, cheeks burning. "Y-yeah."

Inside, her mind was chaos.

’This man. This absolute menace. How did Naomi survive a dinner with him without combusting? How did Rava manage to keep a straight face when he probably looked like this stepping out of the ocean? And why—WHY—was she here babysitting him when he clearly didn’t need saving, just censoring?’

She grabbed her towel, clutched it tighter than necessary, and followed him toward the pool restaurant.

Every step of his? Measured. Controlled.

Every glance over his shoulder? Knowing.

Every muscle flex? Intentional.

And Ely knew one terrible truth. She wasn’t in control anymore.