Right after breakfast, they were on for their first adventure. The sun shimmered high above the Aegean as a sleek, white boat sliced gently through the sapphire waves. Esther sat at the bow, her linen dress fluttering in the salty wind, her eyes wide with wonder. Seagulls cried overhead, and the coastline of Naxos stretched behind them like a watercolor painting, white homes, blue domes, olive groves dotting the hills.
Daniel steered with practiced ease, relaxed in an open shirt and sunglasses, his skin kissed by the sun. She glanced at him, noting how effortlessly he moved, like he belonged to every place he set foot in.
"You drive boats too?" she asked, her voice laced with playful suspicion.
Daniel smirked. "Grew up around them. Water's always been a second home."
"Huh?" Esther arched a brow, visibly puzzled. "How?"
Still smirking, he replied, "My father was a fisherman. I grew up paddling canoes before I eventually upgraded to boats."
"Really? I never pictured you as someone who came from, you know…" she trailed off, hesitant.
"Grass," he finished for her, his tone even, the smile on his face more reflective than amused.
He got that a lot. People looked at him and saw the multi-billionaire tech mogul, polished, distant, untouchable. They rarely imagined the boy who once hauled nets in the early morning, soaked in seawater and dreams. No one saw the years of quiet grit, or the lonely, tireless climb that brought him here.
Esther watched him closely, absorbing the weight behind his words.
"You're really a mystery," she said softly, turning her gaze toward the shoreline dotted with whitewashed houses and blooming bougainvillea.
A breeze lifted a strand of her hair, and Daniel reached over, tucking it gently behind her ear.
"I keep discovering new things about you every day," she continued, her voice almost a whisper, part awe, part curiosity.
He glanced at her, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. "Good," he murmured. "Keep looking."
And as the boat glided closer to the dock, Esther's heart beat with a blend of excitement and wonder, not just for the charming island ahead, but for the man beside her, who felt like a story she was only just beginning to read.
They reached a small dock just beside a sleepy seaside village, its stone paths winding between sunwashed buildings with colorful shutters. Fishermen sat repairing nets. Children kicked a ball near the church steps. The scent of grilled octopus and fresh herbs lingered in the warm air.
Esther climbed off the boat, her sandals tapping softly on the cobbled street. "This is beautiful," she whispered.
"Come," Daniel said, reaching for her hand. "Let me show you something."
They wove through the open-air market, stalls brimming with ripe peaches, fragrant spices, handmade ceramics, and lace woven by elderly women seated in clusters under fig trees. Every corner was a story. Every smile, a welcome.
At one point, Daniel stopped at a vendor selling delicate gold jewelry etched with ancient Greek symbols.
"Kalí méra, pópou ómorfa kosmímata," he greeted, his voice fluid and easy in the local tongue.
The vendor beamed. "Miláte Elliniká?"
Daniel nodded. "Lígo. Polý kairó prin ézisa edó."
Esther blinked, stunned. "Wait, wait. You speak Greek?"
"A little," he said with a modest shrug, selecting a simple gold bracelet. "I lived here for a year during a project… long before you."
"And you didn't think to mention this?" she asked, half laughing, half amazed.
He turned, sliding the bracelet onto her wrist. "You didn't ask."
She looked at him like she was seeing him again for the first time. "You're a walking mystery, Daniel Lewis."
He leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "Then keep solving me. I like the way you look when you're trying to figure me out."
She blushed, unable to hide her smile.
They continued exploring the narrow cobbled streets of the village, every corners alive with color and sound. Market stalls lined either side, overflowing with handwoven fabrics, clay pottery, fresh olives, and golden pastries glazed with honey. Children dashed between tables laughing, while the scent of grilled seafood drifted from a nearby tavern. Music floated in the air, an upbeat tune played on a bouzouki, joined by the rhythmic clapping of hands.
Esther wandered from one stall to another, her eyes wide with wonder, touching fabrics, sampling cheeses, asking questions about herbs she couldn't pronounce. Daniel walked a few steps behind, amused and content, occasionally translating for her or answering locals in fluid Greek that left her more intrigued than ever.
"You've been holding out on me," she teased, eyeing him sideways as he negotiated a price for handmade sandals with an elderly vendor.
He just smirked. "Maybe I like keeping you curious."
Moments later, a voice called out behind them, raspy, accented, and oddly compelling.
"You, young lady with the eyes full of questions."
Esther turned to find an old woman seated beneath a faded striped umbrella. Her skin was weathered from the sun, her gray hair tied back in a loose scarf. A small wooden table in front of her held scattered coins, faded cards, and a polished crystal bowl. Her gaze was sharp, almost unnervingly so.
Daniel moved protectively closer, but the woman only smiled. "I mean no harm. I read palms. Just stories of the heart, nothing more."
Esther hesitated, but curiosity won.
"Should I?" she asked Daniel, looking up at him.
He raised a brow but didn't stop her. "If you're brave enough."
She approached slowly and offered her hand. The old woman's fingers were cool and thin, yet surprisingly strong as she turned Esther's palm upward and traced the lines with precision.
"Ah…" the old woman's voice softened with intrigue as she traced the lines on Esther's palm. "I see you come from a long line of wealth. A family heavy with grief, but… wealthy all the same."
Her eyes flicked up, searching Esther's face, then returned to her palm. "Yet… you grew up poor." There was a subtle crease of confusion in her expression, as if the story in Esther's hand contradicted itself.
Esther stiffened slightly, her gaze shifting to Daniel with quiet skepticism. She doubted the woman's words, but said nothing, out of politeness more than belief.
"Now it makes sense," the woman whispered, her voice laced with sudden clarity, like she had just solved a puzzle hidden in the folds of Esther's skin. "You were separated from your family. Taken or lost. Raised away from your roots."
Esther's breath caught. Slowly, she withdrew her hand, managing a brittle smile. "Thank you," she said, her voice even, though her mind stirred with unease.
Daniel, already watching closely, stepped in wordlessly and handed the woman a few folded notes. He gave her a small nod of thanks, then turned to Esther.
"Let's go," he said gently, his hand guiding her steps as they continued through the busy street.
But before they could disappear into the crowd, the woman called out one last time.
"Listen to me!" she said, her voice carrying with eerie clarity. "There are trials ahead, storms that will test you. If you don't stand strong, if you don't trust each other… your paths will split. And once they do, you may not find each other again."
She slowly sank back into her seat as the sounds of the market swallowed her voice.
Daniel and Esther kept walking, neither looking back, though a strange stillness settled between them, her final words lingering like a whisper in the wind.
Esther rubbed her wrist absently where the woman's fingers had gripped her.
"What was that all about?" she murmured, her tone more unsettled than she wanted to admit.
Daniel shook his head. "I don't know. I don't really believe in all that palm-reading stuff. Never have."
Esther let out a dry laugh. "Separated from my family? That's absurd. Ma would've put that woman in her place if she heard that."
She forced a scoff, trying to brush off the odd chill that lingered in her spine. "My life's always been simple, moderate. We didn't have much, but we had each other. And I've never once been separated from my family. Not that I can remember, anyway."
Still, the unease refused to fully leave her. She stared at the far end of the vibrant street ahead, where flags flapped in the breeze and music played freely. And yet, something about that woman's words had left a shadow behind.
She shook it off and quickened her pace.
The sun still shone, and the island still sang. Whatever the woman thought she saw, it couldn't be real.
Could it?
The sun had begun to dip behind the distant hills of Naxos, spilling gold across the sea as a warm breeze drifted through the narrow, stone-paved streets. Laughter echoed in the air, the scent of fresh herbs and sea salt guiding them like a trail until they reached it, the place every local had pointed them to with knowing smiles.
To Kardia's Garden, The Heart's Garden.
A tucked-away café framed by flowering vines and lanterns, its tables nestled between ancient olive trees and candle-lit paths. Soft bouzouki music drifted from a corner, and the aroma of grilled seafood and spiced lamb wafted from the kitchen.
Esther looked around in awe. "It's… beautiful."
Daniel pulled out a chair for her, lips curled in a slight smile. "Locals say couples who dine here never part. That the place works magic for hearts already aligned."
She raised an eyebrow. "That sounds suspiciously like a marketing tactic."
"Maybe." He shrugged. "Or maybe it's true. You do feel a little different here, don't you?"
She smiled, glancing around again as fireflies began to flit lazily through the garden. "It feels… peaceful. Like the world slowed down just for us."
A waiter brought over two tiny cups of Greek coffee, served on a tray with honeyed pastries and a plate of grilled halloumi. They shared a light dinner of local favorites, moussaka, lemony potatoes, and fresh-caught fish, all recommended by the chef himself with great enthusiasm.
"I'm glad we didn't go to a five-star place tonight," Esther said, her chin resting in her hand as she looked across the table at him. "This… feels more real. Like something we'll remember years from now."
Daniel watched her in silence for a moment, the golden glow of candlelight catching in her eyes. "It's already something I'll never forget."
She smiled shyly and reached for his hand, their fingers lacing naturally.
"Tell me something," she said. "Something about you I don't know yet."
He leaned back in his chair, thinking. "I wanted to be a musician when I was a kid."
"What?" she laughed. "You? Mr. NeuroTech wanted to be a rock star?"
"Not a rock star. A bouzouki player. My dad had one. I learned by ear. Used to play to help him sleep after long days of fishing."
She blinked, clearly surprised. "You keep adding layers. I don't think I'll ever fully figure you out."
"Then I'll always have your curiosity," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
The lights dimmed slightly, and someone began to sing an old Greek love ballad. Around them, other couples fell into slow conversations, laughter, or quiet dancing.
Esther leaned back, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "This place really is magic, isn't it?"
Daniel didn't answer. He just watched her, bathed in candlelight, glowing in serenity, and thought, Yes. It is.
The door to their honeymoon suite clicked softly behind them as they returned from the magical café. Esther kicked off her sandals with a sigh of contentment, stretching her arms overhead. "I'm taking the first shower," she announced, already heading toward the marble-tiled bathroom.
"Take your time," Daniel replied, loosening the cuffs of his shirt.
The sound of running water soon filled the room. Esther's voice called out moments later, muffled by the steam. "Mr Lewis , can you pass me my robe? It's in the top side of my suitcase."
"On it," he said, walking over to where her suitcase lay neatly at the foot of the bed.
She was humming behind the frosted glass when it hit her. Wait.
Her eyes widened. "Wait! Mr Lewis , don't open..!"
Too late.
He had already flipped the lid open.
Daniel blinked, eyes falling not on a robe, but on an elegant, silky collection of lacy lingerie in crimson, black, and deep sapphire, each more risqué than the last. Sitting boldly on top was a sleek, curved device in a velvet pouch…
He paused, eyebrows rising slowly.
"…Well," he muttered with amusement, holding the device in one hand and a barely-there black lace set in the other.
Esther burst out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, wrapped in a towel, her cheeks already flushing.
"Damn" she whispered slowly turned, then tiptoed like she might make a break for the bathroom, but Daniel was quicker. He caught her wrist gently.
"Esther," he said, voice firm yet soft. "Care to explain?"
She froze, then slowly turned back around, burying her face in her hands with a groan.
"Mr. Lewis," she trailed off, peeking through her fingers with a weak smile, "if I told you I had no idea how they got there, would you believe me?"
Daniel raised an arched brow, his look clearly saying, Not a cha
"Right," she sighed. "Even I don't believe myself."
She swallowed hard, then braced herself. "Okay, fine. Dija and Zainab gifted them to me. They said it would help you… you know, wake up." She blurted it all out in one breath, cheeks already burning.
Daniel blinked, then chuckled, shaking the implication away with an amused smirk. "You think I need help?"
"I didn't say that, they did," she quickly clarified, backing up step by step as he slowly advanced.
"They said it's been years," she added, voice slower now, deliberately baiting him. "And they doubt you even remember what to do."
He tilted his head with a dry laugh. "Is that so?"
She nodded with faux innocence, but it was short-lived.
"In that case," he murmured, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, "I guess I'll just have to prove myself… and clear my reputation."
Her breath caught as his hands anchored her to him, warmth radiating between them.
"Consider it… a personal demonstration," he teased, eyes darkening slightly as their lips hovered just a breath apart.
Her breath caught as his hands slid to the small of her back, anchoring her to him like a promise. The playful glint in his eyes had darkened, replaced with something deeper, an unspoken intensity that made her pulse flutter.
"Mr Lewis …" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her temple, his voice low and intimate. "No more teasing, Mrs. Lewis."
Her heart jumped at the title. It sounded surreal. Beautiful. Real.
He bent slightly, lifting her into his arms with ease. She let out a soft gasp, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her toward the bed. The room, dimly lit with the soft amber glow of the bedside lamps, felt like a world of its own, quiet, private, sacred.
He laid her down gently, his body arching over hers, one arm braced beside her as the other trailed up her arm like a whisper. "Are you nervous?" he asked, eyes searching hers.
She shook her head slowly. "Not with you," she murmured, though a part of her was scared. Still, the warmth pooling in her belly and the ache to feel his skin on hers overpowered every lingering doubt.
His hand slid lower, caressing her thigh with slow, purposeful strokes, the heat of his touch seeping through the towel wrapped around her.
"Mr. Lewis," she whispered, her voice soft, shaky, breathless, as his lips brushed the base of her neck. Her heart raced, and then fluttered as his fingers expertly loosened the knot of her towel. It fell away, leaving her exposed to his gaze and touch.
"You're beautiful," he said, his voice like silk, reverent and low. His hands mapped her curves with care, his lips pressing against her chest before trailing lower, worshipful in their journey.
She gasped, her fingers curling into the sheets as his mouth continued downward, teasing her skin with soft kisses. His hands never left her, holding her gently, grounding her as he moved between her thighs, slow, sure, and unhurried.
Every breath she drew came out in broken sighs. Every touch from him made her feel like she was unraveling, piece by tender piece, under the hands of a man who adored every inch of her.
And when he looked up at her again, it wasn't just desire in his eyes, it was devotion.
Esther's breath caught as he moved back up, his body aligning with hers. The weight of him was comforting, warm, his touch no longer a question, but a promise. He kissed her deeply, slowly, as though they had all the time in the world.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, grounding herself in the quiet strength of his presence.
"I've waited so long for this," he whispered against her lips.
She nodded, her fingers threading through his hair. "Me too."
When he entered her, it wasn't rushed, it was steady, reverent. He paused for a heartbeat, his breath hitching as he felt the tight resistance of her body. Carefully, he pressed forward, breaking the barrier with gentle determination.
Esther's fingers clutched at his back, her breath escaping in a soft cry. Pain laced through her, sharp and sudden, but she instinctively clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder, her teeth catching lightly on his skin.
Daniel whispered calming words against her lips, his mouth brushing hers in tender reassurance. His hands moved slowly, soothing her with every caress, his fingers tracing her hips before gently lifting her thighs around him. In one swift, fluid motion, he rolled them over, cradling her on top of him.
Her body, unsure at first, found rhythm in his guidance. She moved slowly, her hands bracing against his chest, her breath catching each time he met her with quiet strength. Minutes passed in a blur of sensation, moans and gasps mixing like a melody between them.
Eventually, she collapsed against him, spent and breathless. Her lips found his in a lingering kiss, tasting every bit of the man who had just become her husband in every way.
Wrapped in each other, the world faded outside the walls of their suite. All that remained was their shared warmth, the echo of their union still trembling between them. The night had folded into silence, with only the sound of their breathing filling the quiet space.
Daniel brushed his thumb along her spine, holding her close. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked softly, his voice threaded with concern. "I could've hurt you."
"But you didn't," she whispered, her lips grazing his as she bit gently at the corner of his mouth. A faint, reassuring smile curved her lips.
He smiled in return, tightening his hold on her. "So… should I redeem myself with a second round?" he teased, his fingers lazily tracing across her chest, drawing patterns only she could understand.
Esther laughed, breathy and light, burying her face in his neck. "Insatiable man," she murmured, playfully pressing her palm against his chest.
The room dimmed into a hush again, and just like that, the night gave way to the soft glow of dawn.