90 days with my billionaire ex

Katy’s POV

My eyes flutter open, and I’m immediately hit by the warmth of the sun glaring down on my face. A sharp ache pierces my skull, and my vision is blurry, taking a few moments to clear.

The pounding in my head is relentless, like the aftermath of a terrible migraine. I groan as I push myself upright, realizing I’m lying on a beach bed, wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt.

Wait. What?

Panic sets in as I glance around. The scenery is unfamiliar—a pristine beach surrounded by swaying palm trees and endless ocean. An island. I’m on some kind of island. My heart pounds in my chest as the fog in my mind refuses to lift. How did I get here? And why can’t I remember?

My scattered thoughts freeze when I notice movement on the horizon. A jet ski approaches across the glistening waves. Relief mingles with unease—at least I’m not alone, but who is that? The rider slows as they near, cutting the engine and stepping onto the sand.

My breath catches. Dario!

Memories crash back in a chaotic wave: the ruined wedding, the drink in the bathroom, the numbness that followed. He drugged me. He brought me here.

“You’re awake,” he says smoothly as he strides toward me.

“You bastard!” I snap, rage overtaking my confusion. “You drugged me!”

Dario doesn’t flinch at my outburst. He saunters over to a bag, casually pulls out a water bottle, and takes a long sip as though I hadn’t spoken. The nonchalance infuriates me.

“Dario, what the hell am I doing here?” I demand, my voice trembling with both fear and anger.

“You’re on my private island,” he replies coolly, glancing at me briefly. “Welcome to the Maldives.”

The words knock the wind out of me. “The Maldives? Are you kidding me? How—how did we even get here? What’s going on?”

I can barely comprehend his words. The last time I saw Dario, he had just gotten out of prison. Now he owns a private island? None of this adds up.

“How is this even possible?” I ask, my voice dripping with suspicion. “You barely had two cents to rub together when we were together. Now you’re some big shot with an island?”

Dario chuckles darkly, his lips curving into a smirk. “Katy, you’re so naïve. Italians like me know how to work the system. Six months, and I was out—no sentence, no prison blues. But you wouldn’t know that, would you? You didn’t bother showing up for my court hearing. You were too busy snitching.”

I blink, stunned. “Snitching? What are you talking about?”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “You told Arturo about my Bali connection. You thought it was harmless gossip, but it wasn’t. Arturo sold me out to one of the deadliest punsters in Italy. That’s what landed me behind bars, Katy. You betrayed me.”

My stomach sinks as fragments of old conversations resurface. I had no idea what Dario was involved in back then—no idea he was a drug dealer. But now the truth is glaringly obvious.

“So, this is revenge?” I say, crossing my arms defensively. “You kidnapped me to punish me for something I didn’t even understand? And what does my sister have to do with this?”

Dario’s jaw tightens. “Sonia? She’s been very helpful, for the right price. She gave me everything I needed to know about you—your routine, your plans, even your boring little bachelorette party. She’s been my eyes and ears.”

I stagger back, my chest tightening. Sonia sold me out? For money? I knew our relationship was rocky, but this...this is unforgivable.

“Are you serious?” I whisper.

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he says, his smirk returning. “And don’t think you can sweet-talk your way out of this. I know every move you’ve made since I got out. I’ve had eyes on you, Katy. Every. Single. Move.”

This is insane. My mind races, trying to make sense of how I got involved with someone like Dario in the first place. He wasn’t always this man—this cold, calculating stranger. Once, he was sweet, attentive, the kind of man who made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. Then he went to Istanbul, and everything changed.

Before I can press him further, a new figure emerges from the tree line. The man is dressed in a black jacket and sunglasses, his demeanor screaming “thug.” He strides over to Dario, speaking to him in rapid Italian.

“Va bene, preparalo,” Dario replies curtly.

The man nods and disappears as quickly as he came.

Dario turns back to me, slipping a phone from his pocket. My heart skips a beat when I recognize it—it’s mine.

“This?” he says, holding it up. “You won’t be needing it. From now on, you don’t contact anyone unless I say so. Understand?”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious. From now on, you’re under my care. You go where I say, do what I say, without question.”

“You’re insane,” I hiss. “I’m not your prisoner, Dario. The police will be looking for me. Tom will be looking for me.”

At the mention of Tom, his expression darkens.

“Don’t say his name again,” he snaps. “You’re still engaged to me, Katy. That means you’re mine. No one’s coming for you. No one even knows where you are. You’ll have everything you need here—everything you’ve ever wanted. Just behave.”

I take a shaky breath, my hands trembling. “No.”

His eyes flash. “What did you say?”

“I said no,” I repeat firmly. “I’m not staying here, and I’m not marrying you. Take me home, now.”

Dario stares at me for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You think you have a choice? That’s cute.”

His laughter stops abruptly, his gaze hardening. “You wouldn’t like to test my wrath, Katy. The Dario you knew is gone. Play nice, and this will be easier for both of us.”

He grabs my wrist, his grip like iron as he drags me toward a winding path. I struggle, but it’s useless—his strength is overwhelming.

We step into a clearing, and I freeze. Before me stands a stunning villa, its architecture sleek and modern, framed by the endless ocean behind it.

My stomach churns as realization sets in. I’m trapped. And this man—this stranger who once loved me—isn’t letting me go anytime soon.