Page 202 of Star Claimed Omega
They walked through what resembled a palace dreamed up by a thousand artisans.
Soleil’s breath caught again and again at the beauty, Italian marbles met Moroccan mosaics, Japanese shoji doors opened to Baltic-inspired steam rooms.
Every corner was a stunning scene: floating sculptures, hand-cut crystal panels, and falling indoor rain gardens.
‘From intricate glass work to curated art collections, each space is designed for quiet discovery,’ Nora explained as they strolled. ‘Luxury here is not just aesthetic, it is embodied. Vintage lighting, handcrafted textures, sculptural furnishings. This is all meant to awaken a sense of stillness and joy. Guests are encouraged to explore, rest, and indulge. Whether you want sunrise yoga, deep-sea diving, or a spa immersion with volcanic mineral therapy, we’ve got it all in hand.’
‘She means,’ Santi cut in with a smirk, ‘this is where the flotilla’s rich Dons come to pretend they don’t have blood on their hands.’
Soleil shot him a look, still overwhelmed.
Nora led them to their suite, and the moment the doors opened, Soleil blinked in wonder.
The room wasn’t just luxurious, it was spellbinding.
A four-poster bed draped in sheer embroidered fabric overlooked a private terrace of floating lilies.
Each room featured floor-to-ceiling windows that, with a touch of a button, transformed into a multi-dimensional holosof any possible view they desired, from oceans and beaches to mountains, erupting volcanoes, verdant forests, and eerie planetoids.
Also within the space was a lounge framed in velvet and brushed steel, and a sculpted bath sunken into polished onyx.
Ambient lighting glowed in pale golds and rose hues, mimicking candlelight.
Everything pulsed with quiet, intimate elegance, and it overwhelmed her.
When the attendant left, Soleil turned to Santi, breath hitching.
‘Why, baby? I don’t know if I can even handle this kind of pampering.’
He stepped forward, brushing his knuckles across her cheek. ‘Have you ever been pampered before?’
‘I lived in near poverty with my mother,’ she murmured. ‘She was poor, but we scraped by. Then, while on the run from Vern, I existed in hovels, including the one on TheSombra. So no, Santi, I’ve never been spoiled like this.’
He silenced her with a kiss, then leaned his brow to hers.
‘That’s why,mi amor. You deserve to be treated like a real queen for a few days. I want to show you how much you’re loved. We’re running up my black card today, because you are the most precious thing I have. I want to fill your memories with laughter, warmth, champagne bubbles, silk sheets, and sunrises you don’t have to survive through.’
Her throat constricted, her heart tight with disbelief and tenderness. He was doing this for her just because he cherished her.
‘You don’t have to,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t need all of this.’
‘I want to,’ he rasped. ‘I want to give you something beautiful to replace the shadows. To help you start fresh. That’s what love does,cariño. It doesn’t just hold you, it lifts you to the sky.’
Tears welled in her eyes, fat and hot.
She turned away to breathe, but he caught her chin, kissed her forehead, and held her as if she might float away.
‘I’ll take you on a tour, heck, I’llfokkyou in each room,’ he murmured. ‘The spa, the dining table, the pool, morning, noon, and night.’
The days on theSyracusiablurred into something dreamlike, soft, golden, and laced with healing.
Soleil had never known luxury, not in the way this vessel offered it.
Every morning, she woke feeling more like she slept in a cloud than a mattress.
The four-poster bed was silk-draped, with memory foam calibrated to cradle the curve of her body.
The linens were pale ivory, trimmed in gold thread, scented with citrus and wild orchid. The pillows were a mountain of satin.
