Cassian had flown to Thailand.
He didn't think. Didn't plan. Just boarded his private jet and told the pilot to get him out of the country. Somewhere hot. Somewhere where his brain could shut up for once.
Now he sat on a reclining chair at a private beach in Koh Samui, shirtless, sunglasses on, watching the ocean stretch endlessly before him.
Everything was perfect. The sea breeze. The shimmering horizon. The soft clink of a beer bottle beside him.
And yet all he could think about was her.
Sienna.
Every time he closed his eyes, it wasn't the view he saw—it was her mouth, parted under his. Her breath catching. The feel of her pressed to his chest, the sound she made when he touched her.
God, he was losing his mind.
There were beautiful women everywhere. Gorgeous, tanned, half-naked bodies walking the sand in pairs, in groups, alone. But they barely registered.
None of them had that sharp little laugh.
None of them bit their lip when they were deep in thought.
None of them were her.
Cassian dragged a hand down his face. He hadn't planned to stay long—just a few days, maybe a week, to get his head on straight. But the silence of his penthouse apartment had driven him out faster than expected. Every room felt like it echoed with the memory of Sienna. Her voice. Her footsteps. Her goddamn presence.
"Sir?"
He looked up. A local server, maybe in his thirties, tan and wiry, smiled down at him.
"You need anything?"
Cassian shook his head. "No. Just existing right now."
The man chuckled. "Rough day to exist?"
Cassian offered a tired smile. "Rough life, maybe."
The man tilted his head thoughtfully. "You look like someone running from something."
Cassian blinked. "Am I that obvious?"
"Only to someone who works in peace," he said, tapping his temple.
Cassian stared out at the waves again. "I came here looking for that. Peace. But it's not working."
The man nodded. "Peace doesn't come from beer or sand or silence. You want real peace?"
Cassian glanced up, squinting.
The man pointed toward the trees. "You go to temple. Talk to monk. Even just sit there. Good for heart."
Cassian let the idea sit.
A temple.
Maybe that's what he needed.
Because if he didn't get out of his own head soon, he was going to do something really stupid.
Like go back for her.
Two days passed.
And he only got worse.
The beach stopped helping. The alcohol didn't soothe. The voices of the women brushing past, the sound of the waves, the golden sun—all of it blurred behind the ache in his chest and the image of her lips.
Sienna.
Laughing at his bad jokes. Looking at him like he wasn't a disaster.
Every time he tried to sleep, she was there. That night. That kiss. That soft gasp into his mouth. And the way he walked away like a coward.
He couldn't take it anymore.
So when the same server passed by with a tray of fruit and said, "You still look troubled, friend," Cassian stood and muttered, "Fuck it."
He asked for a ride to the edge of the hills, just where the forest began. He wore boots this time. A local guide pointed him to the path.
The trail was narrow and half-forgotten, lined with wild orchids and ferns brushing his arms. The farther he walked, the quieter it got—just birds and his breath, and the occasional distant echo of a waterfall.
Sunlight streamed between thick-leaved trees, casting dappled shadows along the path. Vines curled lazily across stone walls, and butterflies flitted through shafts of light. Cassian hadn't breathed this deep in months. Maybe years.
It was steep in places. He had to catch himself, use both hands, pull himself over ledges. He was sweating by the time the trees parted.
And there it was.
Perched at the top of the rise, quiet and timeless—a small temple, ancient and still, wrapped in creeping moss and the sound of wind.
He paused at the gate, breath catching. The stone walkway led him between low walls and small bells strung from wooden beams that chimed gently in the breeze.
The place looked like peace had been carved into it.
Maybe here, he could figure out how to stop thinking about her.
Or maybe he'd finally admit he didn't want to.