The elevator doors slid open to the upper deck, and Kane's jaw dropped.
The pool area stretched before them like a fever dream of excess—azure water shimmering in the Mediterranean sun, bordered by gleaming gold-tiled edges that caught the light in blinding flashes.
"Is that a swim-up sushi bar?" He pointed to a marble counter where a chef in white prepared fresh rolls for guests lounging in the water.
"Who eats raw fish while swimming?"
"People who can," Cyrus replied dryly.
"The salmon nigiri is exquisite," murmured a bronzed woman in a barely-there bikini as she glided past them.
Kane watched staff members weaving through loungers, distributing fresh towels and complimentary champagne from silver trays.
A muscular man with oil-slicked skin accepted a glass without looking up from his phone, its diamond case glinting in the sun.
"This is ridiculous," Kane said, unable to contain his amazement.
