Check-in & treatment

As we stepped off the jet, the island's humid air enveloped me, clinging to my skin like an invisible weight. The sunlight was blinding, reflecting off the white sand and turquoise water, but the beauty of the scenery couldn’t shake the tension that had settled in my chest.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Richard said, his tone as smug as the ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s lovely,” I replied, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, my voice carefully neutral.

The resort ahead looked like something out of a travel magazine—sleek architecture surrounded by lush greenery, with towering palms swaying lazily in the breeze. Every detail screamed luxury, from the glinting infinity pools to the ornate stonework framing the grand entrance.

“Let’s check in,” Richard said, striding forward like he owned the place. The resort staff seemed to materialize out of nowhere, scooping up our bags and ushering us through the lobby.

The inside was just as opulent—gleaming marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and fresh orchids arranged in towering vases. The polished professionalism of the staff, however, was a stark contrast to the buzzing crowd of guests. They were exactly the sort of people I’d expected to see at this conference—executives and entrepreneurs dressed in designer outfits, their laughter loud and confident as they sipped cocktails.

“Mr. Richard, welcome back,” one of the staff members greeted him warmly. “And this must be your wife?”

“Yes,” Richard said smoothly, sliding his arm around my waist with practiced ease. I stiffened at the contact, but I plastered on a polite smile.

The suite was beyond extravagant—massive windows overlooking the ocean, a private terrace with its own infinity pool, and a king-sized bed draped in silky sheets.

“It’s… impressive,” I said, setting my bag down near a sleek leather chair.

Richard glanced around, hands in his pockets. “Only the best. We’ll be hosting some of the biggest players here, so appearances matter.”

I nodded, forcing myself to focus on the schedule. There was a reception tonight, and I wanted to be as prepared as possible.

“I’ll take the couch,” I said quickly, motioning toward the oversized sectional in the sitting area.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he replied, his smirk returning. “We’re supposed to be a married couple. It’ll look suspicious if anyone finds out we’re sleeping apart.”

“They won’t find out,” I said sharply.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. But you’re making this unnecessarily difficult.”

Ignoring him, I grabbed the printed itinerary from my bag. My eyes skimmed over the long list of meetings and networking sessions, but one thing stood out—a spa treatment scheduled for me shortly after our arrival.

“Why is this on the schedule?” I asked, holding up the paper.

Richard glanced at it and grinned. “I thought you could use some relaxation after the flight. They offer some of the best treatments in the world here.”

I narrowed my eyes. “This isn’t really about relaxation, is it?”

“Call it an investment,” he said smoothly. “You’ll need to look and feel your best for tonight’s reception.”

I hesitated. The idea of a spa session was tempting—more tempting than I wanted to admit. “Fine,” I said eventually. “But don’t think for a second this means I’m relaxing my boundaries.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his tone dripping with mock sincerity.

The spa was a world of its own, hidden away behind a dense curtain of tropical foliage. Inside, the air was warm and fragrant, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus mixing with the soft strains of instrumental music. A serene-looking woman in a pale green uniform greeted me with a smile, her voice low and soothing as she led me deeper into the facility.

“Your treatment is designed to help you feel completely rejuvenated,” she explained as we entered a private room.

The room was dimly lit, the walls painted in calming earth tones. A massage table sat in the center, draped with pristine white linens. Beside it, a tray held an array of oils and lotions.

The first part of the treatment was blissfully straightforward—a massage that worked out the knots in my shoulders and left me feeling lighter than I had in weeks. I was just starting to let my guard down when the masseuse leaned in.

“Next, we’ll proceed with our exclusive hormonal balance treatment. It’s designed to promote relaxation and enhance vitality.”

I blinked. “Hormonal treatment?”

“Yes,” she said, her smile never wavering. “It’s completely natural and personalized to your needs. Many of our guests find it deeply restorative.”

I hesitated, but before I could say anything, she was already moving to prepare a small vial of what looked like essential oil. “We’ll begin with this serum,” she said. “You’ll feel a gentle warmth as it works.”

I told myself it was harmless—probably just another overpriced luxury treatment—but as the serum absorbed into my skin, I felt an odd sensation. A warmth that started in my chest and radiated outward, leaving me feeling uncharacteristically lightheaded.

The final part of the session was even stranger. The masseuse dimmed the lights further and spoke in an almost hypnotic cadence. “This is a guided relaxation,” she said. “Let your mind drift. Focus only on my voice.”

I tried to resist, but my body felt heavier with each word she spoke. Her voice became a soft hum in my ears, weaving in and out of phrases I couldn’t fully process.

“Release your tension… let go of your doubts… trust yourself…”

By the time the session ended, I felt disoriented, as though I’d just woken from a deep sleep. The masseuse helped me sit up, her calm smile never faltering. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” I said automatically, though my thoughts felt oddly sluggish.

“Excellent. You’re ready for the evening ahead,” she said, guiding me toward the exit.

When I returned to the suite, Richard was waiting, dressed in a sleek tuxedo that only accentuated his aura of confidence.

“Feeling refreshed?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze sharp.

“Yes,” I said, though I avoided his eyes. Something about the treatment still felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Good,” he said. “We’ve got a lot to accomplish tonight.”

I retreated to the bedroom to change for the reception, trying to shake the lingering haze from the spa session. As I slipped into my dress and prepared to face the evening, I reminded myself why I was here. This was just business. Nothing more.

But a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered otherwise.