Zoe pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"It’s your fault too," She said. "If you’d just told them straight up to leave, they wouldn’t have been surrounding you like that."

Wren sighed heavily.

"I wish," Wren said. "But offending them was the last thing I wanted to do. Those are wealthy guests... daughters of important families, probably and one complaint could cause problems."

Zoe sighed and jabbed her finger at his chest for emphasis.

"Sure but don’t think that I like you or something," Zoe said quickly. "I only did that because Mom was looking uncomfortable and everyone else at the table looked awkward too. It was becoming a scene."

Wren raised an eyebrow. He honestly hadn’t even noticed Diana’s discomfort in the chaos of being surrounded.

"Sorry..." Wren said and Zoe rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Why do you keep saying sorry?" Zoe asked, exasperated. "I honestly don’t care about your apologies."

She took in a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision.

"You can’t go back to the dinner like this," Zoe said practically. "Those women will just swarm you again the moment you show your face. Maybe you should head back to your room or something."

Wren frowned slightly.

"Isn’t there only one staircase?" Wren asked. "The grand one we came down? I’d have to walk through the entire dining hall to get back to it."

"This is a big-ass cruise ship..." Zoe said matter-of-factly. "Naturally there should be some sort of alternative route to go back upstairs. Staff corridors, service elevators, something. You’re a grown man so figure it out."

She clutched her dress and straightened her posture, preparing to return to the formal environment.

"I’ll go back to the table," Zoe said. "If those girls ask where you went, I’ll tell them you had something important to attend to or that you got called away by someone else. I’ll handle it."

She started to walk away elegantly, then turned back over her shoulder with a look.

"You better give me like ten thousand credits when we meet again," Zoe added. "Consider it a rescue fee."

Then Zoe walked off, leaving Wren to stare at her retreating back. He ran his hand through his blond hair and shook his head slightly.

’This doesn’t make her less annoying...’ Wren thought but he had to admit... she’d helped him out of a genuinely uncomfortable situation so that counted for something.

Wren looked around the empty corridor he was standing in.

So far, there were no maids or butlers he could ask for directions to alternative routes. The hallway stretched in both directions with doors lining the walls at regular intervals, everything was decorated with the same luxurious attention to detail as the rest of the ship.

He picked a direction and started walking, taking in his surroundings and even the hallways were incredibly luxurious with plush carpeting that absorbed sound and soft lighting that created an expensive ambiance.

’I wonder how much credits were used in building this ship?’ Wren wondered.

[Hehe, Host~ I already ran the research! The cost of the Celestine was approximately 1.3 billion credits to build.]

Wren nearly stumbled. 1.3 billion?

[But don’t worry! The luxury liner has long since generated that income back many times over. And if you think THIS is luxury, once we get enough money to board the other higher-tier ships, you’ll absolutely love it! Like the Tectonic... everyone who boards that ship has at least 100 million credits in their personal accounts. It’s the minimum entry requirement!]

Wren sighed and thought back.

’Nyx, please stop making me insecure with all that money talk.’

[You don’t need to worry, Host! We can start our own luxury liners as well someday! All you need is to trust... in... NYX!]

’Rightttt...’ Wren thought sarcastically. ’Like you didn’t mess up the Valdris Shipping Co. stock recommendation.’

[Well, I can’t predict a massive corporate scandal that’s being actively hidden, can I, Host? Besides, I DID tell you I wasn’t some all-seeing god. I work with available data!]

’I know, Nyx,’ Wren thought, his mental tone softening. ’I’m just pulling your leg.’

[I don’t have legs, dummy!]

Wren smiled slightly and dismissed the screen with a mental gesture.

He turned a corner and found himself entering what looked like a lounge or bar area... similar to the Azure Lounge where he’d first met Isabella and ordered coffee while she’d gotten juice.

This space was smaller with dark wood paneling, comfortable leather seating and a well-stocked bar along one wall with a bartender polishing glasses.

Soft jazz music played from hidden speakers.

There were a few people scattered throughout the space... guests who’d apparently skipped the formal dinner entirely or left early.

’I wasn’t aware that some people skipped out on the whole thing.’ Wren thought.

Maybe he could stay here and wait for the dinner to be completely over. Find a quiet corner, order a drink, let the chaos die down, maybe even find a staff member who could direct him to an alternative route upstairs.

"Ren-Ren?"

Wren suddenly heard the nickname that Isa had declared she’d call him by. He turned toward the sound and spotted her sitting at one of the corner tables.

She still had her oversized hoodie on, hood pulled up to obscure her face, but she’d changed out of whatever she’d been wearing earlier.

Now she wore casual jean trousers and what looked like a simple shirt beneath the hoodie. Wren immediately walked over to her table.

Isabella pulled back her hood just enough to show her face... those green eyes, that blonde hair and that beautiful smile then she looked him up and down, taking in the white suit with silver threading and the red rose in the breast pocket.

She let out a low whistle.

"You look really hot," Isabella said bluntly. "Seriously, how does someone who’s unemployed manage to have a suit like that?"

She tilted her head, studying him with genuine curiosity.

"Marcus has one almost exactly like this, except his is black..." Isabella continued. "It cost him about 500,000 Royals. So I’m interested, are you doing some kind of job you’re embarrassed to talk about? Like... I don’t know, something illegal? High-end escort?"

Wren pulled back the second chair and sat down across from her.

"It was actually gifted to me by one of my best friends," Wren said and Isabella sighed.

"What kind of best friend gives away half a million credits for free?" Isabella asked skeptically and Wren raised an eyebrow.

’500k?’ Wren thought while suddenly being alert. He could clearly remember Leah telling him the suit cost about 50,000 credits when she’d presented it to him earlier but thinking back on it now... why had he even believed her in the first place?

A suit of this quality, with this level of tailoring and these materials, costing only 50k? That had never made sense.

’I really am an idiot.’ Wren thought and he turned his attention back to Isabella.

"I really wasn’t aware it cost that much," Wren admitted. "But besides that... who was that woman who dragged you away earlier? The one who mentioned something about a cheating scandal?"

Isabella cleared her throat and looked distinctly embarrassed.

"That woman is my manager, unfortunately," Isabella said with a grimace. "Even though I wanted to make this a personal trip... a genuine vacation, my manager got aboard too. She’s trying to make me do a photoshoot for a specific brand endorsement which is another reason why I’m wearing this hood everywhere."

She pulled the fabric tighter around her face as if to emphasize the point.

"That sounds like a whole lot of problems," Wren observed and Isabella nodded emphatically.

"It really is," Isabella confirmed. "But enough about me and my drama. You looked like you were dressing to impress down there... all formal and handsome so why aren’t you at the dinner right now?"

"I was there," Wren said. "But too many women surrounded me at once. I had to escape before I got completely overwhelmed."

Isabella reached across the table and patted him on the back sympathetically.

"Sorry, Ren-Ren..." Isabella said. "But that’s what happens when someone’s too handsome, Everyone wants a piece of them so welcome to the club."

Wren smiled slightly at that.

"What about you?" Wren asked. "Why aren’t you at the dinner?"

Isabella drew back her hand and picked up her juice cup, taking a sip before answering.

"I didn’t want anyone to recognize my face," Isabella said. "And besides, I don’t like it when there are too many people gathered in a single place. Unless it’s a racetrack... that’s different. It’s a different kind of chaos but formal dinners with hundreds of strangers all staring at each other? No thanks."

She finished her coffee and set the cup down with a soft clink.

"Did you want to get out of here?" Isabella asked suddenly as her eyes brightened with an idea. "Go back upstairs for more bowling?"

Wren’s eye twitched involuntarily.

"Do you want to destroy me some more?" Wren asked.

Isabella grinned widely.

"You betcha..." Isabella said then her face went pale with the color draining rapidly.

"Don’t turn around," Isabella muttered urgently as her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Or you’ll see my manager approaching."

Wren flinched, immediately imagining the stern-looking woman from earlier bearing down on them.

"What should I do?" Wren whispered back as Isabella reached out and touched his hand, her fingers were warm against his skin.

"We run." Isabella muttered. "On three. One... two..."

"Why would we run?" Wren whispered.

"Because I don’t want to be caught by her again..." Isabella hissed. "She’ll drag me to that photoshoot and I’ll be stuck for hours..."

Immediately, the two of them launched out of their seats and took off running. Isabella led the way, moving surprisingly fast for someone in casual clothes with her hood bouncing as she sprinted down the corridor.

Wren followed close behind as his expensive shoes slapped against the polished floor. Behind them, the manager seemed to freeze for a few moments... probably processing what she’d just witnessed before following them with surprising determination for someone in heels and business attire.

Isabella led Wren through a series of winding hallways, turning corners seemingly at random, clearly trying to lose their pursuer through sheer unpredictability.

The corridors blurred together wih one elegant passageway after another, all decorated with the same luxurious attention to detail.

Paintings flew past, potted plants became obstacles to dodge around, the occasional startled guest pressed themselves against the wall as the two runners barreled past.

Though the manager didn’t shout or call out... probably not wanting to cause an undignified scene with other wealthy guests around, Wren could feel her frustration from here.

There was something almost comical about the situation: a professional woman in business attire and heels chasing down a famous race car driver and an unemployed man through the corridors of a luxury cruise shipt hen the intercoms lining the ship crackled to life with a soft hum.

"Good evening once again, distinguished guests of the Celestine..."

A familiar deep voice announced.

"This is Captain Jonathan Hawlone speaking, and once again, I am pleased to welcome you aboard the finest luxury cruise vessel in the Sentinal Seas."

Isabella grabbed Wren’s hand more firmly and pulled him left down another corridor, her breathing getting heavier but her pace not slowing.

Her athletic training was showing... even after all this running, she maintained impressive speed and control.

"I hope you are all enjoying your welcome dinner and the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable twelve-day voyage through some of the most breathtaking destinations in the world."

They passed a group of elderly guests exiting what looked like a theater or performance hall. The guests turned to stare at the two young people sprinting past in obvious confusion.

Isabella weaved between them expertly with her hood slipping back slightly to reveal a flash of blonde hair before she yanked it forward again with her free hand.

Behind them, the manager had to slow down to navigate through the same group, muttering apologies as she squeezed past the bewildered guests.

She was falling further behind now... clearly not in the same physical condition as a professional athlete.

"Tomorrow morning at precisely 9:00 AM, we will arrive at our first destination: Coral Bay Island, one of the most beautiful locations in the entire Ivory Islands Archipelago."

Wren risked a glance back over his shoulder and saw the manager wheezing now with one hand pressed to her side as her professional composure cracked completely while she struggled to maintain the chase.

Her heels were clearly not designed for marathon pursuits through cruise ship corridors.

"Coral Bay Island is renowned for its pristine white-sand beaches, crystal-clear turquoise waters, and some of the most spectacular coral reef formations in the entire Sentinal region."

Isabella spotted a staircase ahead... not the grand main staircase they’d descended earlier, but a smaller, more utilitarian one that was clearly meant for staff or guests who wanted to avoid the main thoroughfares.

"The island’s coral reefs are home to over three hundred species of tropical fish, and visibility often exceeds one hundred feet. It is truly a paradise for underwater enthusiasts."

"Let’s go!" Isabella said, pulling Wren toward the stairs. They took the steps two at a time with their footsteps echoing in the enclosed space.

"Additionally, for those who prefer to remain on land, the island features several excellent restaurants, local craft markets, and nature trails through the coastal rainforest."

They emerged onto an upper deck corridor lined with cabin doors... clearly the residential section of the ship.

"The ship will remain docked at Coral Bay until 7:00 PM tomorrow evening, giving you ample time to explore at your leisure."

"I recognize the hall, my suite is around here."

"Which one?" Isabella asked urgently, looking at the identical doors stretching in both directions and Wren scanned the numbers quickly.

"That one!" Wren said, pointing to a door about six down on the right. "Room 847!"

They sprinted down the hallway.

"Tonight, for those not yet ready to retire, we invite you to join us for ballroom dancing in the Grand Hall beginning at 9:00 PM, with our casino opening at 10:00 PM for the evening."

Wren fumbled with his key card with his hands slightly shaky from the adrenaline and behind them, they could hear the manager’s labored footsteps reaching the top of the stairs.

"For the night owls among you, our starlight deck party will begin at 11:00 PM, featuring live music and refreshments under the stars."

The door lock beeped green as Wren yanked it open and they both tumbled inside.

Isabella immediately squeezed the door shut behind them as quietly as possible, pressing her back against it.

"From all of us here on the Celestine, we wish you a wonderful evening, and we look forward to making this voyage one you will remember for the rest of your lives. Good night."

The Captain’s voice faded with a final crackle of the intercom while Isa and Wren kept completely quiet, barely breathing.

They heard the manager’s footsteps in the hallway outside... she was slower now and seemed to be searching for them, the click-click-click of heels on the floor moving past their door as the sound grew fainter then disappeared entirely.

They waited another full minute in tense silence before finally letting out simultaneous sighs of relief.

Isabella walked away from the door and sat down on Wren’s bed panting heavily as her chest rose and fell with each labored breath.

"That’s the most I’ve run in years," Isabella said between breaths, pulling her hood back down now that they were safely alone.

Her blonde hair was slightly messed up from the exertion as a few strands stuck to her forehead with perspiration.

She looked around the room with genuine appreciation, taking in the spacious suite with its king-sized bed covered in expensive linens, the comfortable sitting area with plush furniture, the private balcony visible through floor-to-ceiling windows and all the elegant furnishings that screamed wealth and luxury.

"Nice room," Isabella commented, impressed. "This is way better than mine... Though mine’s technically paid for by my sponsor, so I can’t complain too much."

Wren sat beside her on the bed, feeling the mattress dip slightly under his weight then he let himself fall backward, lying flat with his arms spread out to either side, staring up at the pristine white ceiling with its recessed lighting.

His heart rate was gradually returning to normal leaving behind a strange mixture of exhilaration and confusion about how his evening had turned out.

"So what do we do now?" Wren asked.