Prince Mathew.

I practically launched myself out of the pool. Water sloshed over the edges, soaking the deck. I didn't even look back. I just stumbled toward the bathroom, my legs feeling like jelly.

I slammed the door shut behind me and leaned hard against it. My breath was coming in ragged, shaky gasps. My chest felt tight. "Damn it, Mathew!" I whispered harshly into the quiet room. "What is wrong with you? What were you thinking?"

How could I have let that happen back there? How did I lose control like that? She's not some stranger. She's my business partner's daughter! I kept repeating it in my head, like a warning.

She's young. She's playful. She trusted me enough to come here. And she deserves so much better than... this. This madness. This confusion. She deserves to be safe. Protected. Not... whatever that was in the pool.

My heart wouldn't slow down. It was hammering against my ribs like a frantic drum. I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck. The blood rushing through my veins felt hot and wild, like it wasn't even my own body anymore.

My skin was buzzing, restless and on fire. My thoughts were a jumbled, chaotic mess. I couldn't grab onto a single clear idea. I gripped the cold, hard edge of the bathroom sink, trying to steady myself. "Get it together," I muttered. "Just breathe. Get control."

But it was useless. Completely useless. The image of her was burned into my mind. Her lips on mine. The feel of her skin. The sound of her laugh in the water. It was all just... there.

Before I could even form a single coherent thought, my body moved on its own. It was like I was watching someone else. I yanked the bathroom door open and stormed right back out onto the pool deck.

And there she was. Still in the water. Right where I'd left her. She was just lazily swirling her hands, making little ripples. She looked so innocent. So calm. Like she hadn't just turned my entire world upside down.

A soft, playful smile was on her face as she gently splashed the water.

"Viola," I said. My voice came out rough, strained. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and curious. Questioning.

Without another word-without thinking, because thinking would have stopped me-I acted. I ripped off my soaked clothes right there on the deck. I didn't care. I jumped back into the water, the cool liquid doing nothing to calm the heat raging inside me.

I swam straight up to her, so close our bodies almost touched. I leaned in until my lips were brushing against her ear.

My voice was a low, dangerous growl. "You should be punished, you know that?" I whispered. "You should be punished for making me want you this badly, baby. For making me lose my mind."

I expected her to pull back. To look shocked. Or maybe even scared. But she didn't.

Instead, a deep blush spread across her cheeks. A sultry, knowing smile crept onto her lips. Her voice dropped to a seductive, challenging whisper that went straight through me.

"Then punish me, Daddy," she said, her eyes locked on mine. "I'm not scared."

In that moment, any last shred of my control just... shattered. Everything was spinning. It felt wild and unpredictable and dangerous. A huge part of me was screaming that I should stop. Now.

The chemistry between us was electric. Like a live wire, sparking and threatening to burn us both. I was fighting a brutal war inside my own head, trying desperately to hold onto my composure. To be the responsible one.

But deep, deep down, beneath all the panic and the guilt, I knew. This wasn't an ending. This was just the beginning. The start of a long, complicated journey for both of us.

It was a path filled with raw passion. Dizzying confusion. And the very real potential for disaster for everyone involved.

We floated there in the warm, silent water for a minute. The tension between us felt thick. Heavy. I couldn't help but shake my head in disbelief.

"How did we even get here, Viola?" I muttered. I was mostly talking to myself. Trying to make it make sense.

She didn't answer. She just smiled softly, tracing a pattern on the water's surface with her finger.

"Viola," I said again. My voice was low and thick with a tension I couldn't hide. "We... we need to stop. We have to think about what we're doing. This is a seriously bad idea."

But she simply tilted her head. Her eyes sparkled with pure, mischievous adventure. She reached out and placed her hand flat on my chest, right over my pounding heart.

"What's the fun in thinking too much, Mathew?" she asked, her voice gentle but daring. "You're always thinking. Planning. Worrying. Just for tonight... can't we just feel? Can't we just enjoy the moment?"

And in that instant, looking into her fearless, inviting eyes, I realized the truth. The battle inside me wasn't over. It was far, far from over.