"Fine. Dinner." Kane huffed. "Where's the island restaurant?"
"There isn't one." Cyrus's expression remained infuriatingly neutral. "Only a bar and lounge for guests who wish to socialize."
Kane blinked. "Then how—"
"Each villa has a full kitchen." Cyrus gestured toward the interior.
Kane turned in Cyrus's embrace, spotting the open kitchen through the glass walls.
Gleaming countertops, professional-grade appliances, everything pristine and unused.
Kane broke away from Cyrus and strode inside, his tails swishing with excitement.
The kitchen was gorgeous—marble counters veined with gold, volcanic stone backsplash, and copper pots hanging from iron racks.
Just as luxurious as the penthouse, but with tropical accents.
He yanked open the refrigerator.
Empty.
The pantry revealed nothing but complimentary champagne, sparkling water, and a basket of exotic fruits.
"Cyrus." Kane turned, one silver tail flicking irritably. "There's no food."
