91. Chapter 91

91

Wren

I t's been a week.

My olive skin's got that deep, warm tone, like I'm some goddamn goddess sculpted from bronze and gilded with a bright yellow bikini, perfectly matching the Hawaiian sun's golden rays.

Not complaining, though.

The breeze coming in from the waves feels like silk against my skin. I look at Sophia, sprawled out next to me on the lounge chair, her eyes hidden behind oversized shades. Her bikini's some pale blue number that matches the water. She's even got that stupid fruity drink with the umbrella—something Luka probably insisted on.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole situation," I muse, taking a sip of my ice-cold beer.

Sophia turns her head, pushing her sunglasses up. "What, the fact that you're actually relaxing for once?"

I smirk. "More like the fact that the Ivankov Bratva apparently moonlight as real estate moguls." I gesture at the sprawling beach house behind us. "D never breathed a word about owning a slice of paradise."

"Oh, you didn't know?" Sophia sits up, flashing a grin like she's holding onto some insider knowledge. "They collect properties like other people collect… I don't know, sports cars or something. It's their way of laundering money," she leans in, whispering the last part like it's a juicy secret. "They don't even care if they use ‘em. Just another way to keep things looking legit."

I raise an eyebrow, glancing back at the sprawling beach house behind us. "So, what you're telling me is, we're basically living in their real-life version of Monopoly?"

Sophia snickers, covering her mouth before almost choking on her drink. "Not the board game version, but yeah, kinda. At least we landed on a good spot, huh?"

I lean back, shaking my head. "Good spot? You mean luxury beachfront while they just… collect these places, like, ‘Oh hey, maybe we'll stay here one day, maybe not.' Makes sense, right?"

"Better than being stuck on some random street corner," she quips, sipping her drink with a wink.

I laugh, finally letting myself relax a little. "Yeah, we definitely didn't land on the crappier end of the board, that's for sure. Though, with these two, I bet they own Boardwalk and Park Place too, with fancy hotels on each."

Sophia snorts again, and this time, she doesn't bother to hide it. "Oh, absolutely. They've got every prime spot, no doubt about it. Except here, they're not nickel-and-diming us for rent."

I glance at her sideways, a smirk pulling at my lips. "Unless you count the emotional toll of keeping up with them."

Sophia waves over to where Luka and Niko are playing in the sand, flashing that radiant smile of hers that always seems effortless. I watch her for a second, soaking it in—how easily she fits into this world now, how happy she looks.

Wow, she's really thriving here, I think, taking in her relaxed posture and the way she's totally at ease. It's good for her, of course. My best friend deserves this—deserves all the happiness she can get, even if I'm still trying to catch my breath in all this luxury.

"Madam Ivankov, here are your drinks."

The waiter appears out of nowhere, all polished and polite, dressed in white and moving with the kind of precision that makes it clear he's paid way too much to cater to people like us. He sets down two more martinis with that perfectly rehearsed smile, the ice clinking as the glasses hit the table. There's even a damn umbrella bobbing on top, like we're in some resort commercial.

Sophia thanks him with a nod, that same graceful smile still plastered on her face, while I just stare at the new drink in front of me. I shake my head, letting out a low chuckle.

"Christ," I mutter, eyeing the perfectly made drinks. "They're really laying it on thick with this ‘luxury experience,' huh? What's next, someone fanning us with palm leaves?"

Sophia chuckles, picking up her glass and taking a slow sip. "Come on, Wren. Enjoy it. You deserve it."

"Sure. Because nothing says ‘deserve' like a martini served to you on a silver platter while you're in a damn bikini." I lift my glass and stare at it like it's some kind of alien artifact. "Feels like I'm in a goddamn movie."

Sophia raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Maybe you are. Wren, the action heroine, taking a break from the chaos to sip martinis on a beach."

"Yeah, well, I'd prefer a cold beer and maybe a burger instead." I glance over at the waiter, who's now heading back to wherever fancy waiters go when they're not catering to spoiled guests like us. "This whole thing still feels weird to me, you know?"

"Luxury?" Sophia smirks. "Or the fact that D and Luka have this place, and no one thought to tell you?"

"Both." I sigh, taking a reluctant sip of the martini. The drink is good, annoyingly good. "I mean, who even does this? Just buys a beach house on a whim?"

"D does," Sophia says, almost too casually. She gets up, stretching, her fingers brushing her hair back from her face. The sun catches the blonde strands, making her look all beach goddess-like.

"So, what? Do they even use these places?" I ask, watching her as she plops back down, settling into her seat.

Sophia leans forward, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Honestly? They just like having options. Sometimes they stay, sometimes they don't. It's all about the idea of having it when they need it. Luka and D—control freaks, remember?"

I snort, shaking my head. "Yeah, sounds about right. Meanwhile, I'm over here, wondering if I'm ever gonna feel comfortable enough to just… exist in this kind of life. You know?"

Sophia turns her head toward me, tilting her sunglasses down her nose, those sharp green eyes zeroing in. "You think too much, Wren. You act like you don't belong here, but I'm telling you—you do. You just have to let yourself."

Maybe… Soph is right.

We fall into a comfortable silence, watching the waves roll in. The sound of children's laughter drifts up from the shoreline, where D and Luka are attempting to build a sandcastle with the kids.

Suddenly, Sophia turns to me, her expression serious. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," I say, taking another swig of the martini.

"Do you love him? D , I mean."

I nearly spit out my drink. "Jesus, Soph. Way to ambush a girl."

She shrugs, unapologetic. "Just curious. You two seem… different lately." She adjusts her bikini bottom with a finger. "I mean… in good ways."

I stare out at the ocean, watching D scoop up a giggling Alex. "I… fuck, I don't know. Love's not exactly been my forte, you know?"

"But?" Sophia prompts gently.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "But this… whatever it is… it feels different. Deeper. Like I'm actually part of something, not just passing through."

Sophia smiles, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "Sounds an awful lot like love to me."

"Puufff! Don't be ridiculous!" I wave my hand like a madwoman, nearly knocking over my glass.

Sophia looks at me, her eyes piercing into mine; she squints. "I've never seen Wren Davis squeal like a girlie-girl before."

Shitballs, she's right. I've never screamed like this before. And I surely have never checked out a man like I'm doing right now.

D's just emerged from the sea with Alex perched on his shoulders, water cascading down his body like he's in some kind of fucked-up shampoo commercial. His muscles ripple as he walks, each step kicking up sand. The scars that crisscross his torso catch the sunlight.

"Holy fuckballs," I mutter, my eyes glued to the spectacle.

Sophia smirks, catching me gawking at my man. "Getting an eyeful, are we?" she teases. "Can't blame you; he's like a damn work of art."

"Shut up," I growl, but I can't look away. D's laughing at something Alex said, his face transformed. The hard lines are softer, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It's like watching a tiger turn into a housecat.

"You know," Sophia says, her voice dripping with amusement, "if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through his chest."

I tear my eyes away, feeling heat creep up my neck. "I wasn't staring. I was… observing."

"Uh-huh." Sophia gives me this cheeky look, her eyebrows raised.

I flip her off, grabbing my beer and taking a long swig, desperate to drown out her teasing. Of course, I down it way too fast, and the next thing I know, I'm choking and sputtering; Sophia's doubled over with laughter.

I glare at her between coughs. "Shut… up," I wheeze, beer dribbling down my chin.

I'm still struggling to catch my breath when I hear a familiar giggle.

"Momma funny!"

I look up, eyes watering, to see D standing in front of me, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. Alex is giggling like I just performed the best comedy act of his life. His little hands are clamped over his mouth.

"Laugh it up, boys," I manage, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Real supportive."

D chuckles, leaning down until he's at eye level with me. His voice is low, teasing. "You alright there, or did the beer beat you?"

"Beer's fine," I huff, still trying to recover. "Just went down the wrong pipe."

Alex is still giggling beside him, tugging on D's hand. "Momma got wawa comin' outta nose!" he squeaks between laughs.

I wipe my nose, giving him a playful glare. "That's right, kid. Momma's got a magic nose. Makes water come out when I drink too fast."

"Come on," D says, straightening up. "Join us in the water."

I raise an eyebrow, glancing at the ocean like it's about to rise up and swallow me. "Nah, I'm good here. Don't really feel like getting sand everywhere."

D just grins like he already knew I'd say that. "You sure? It's warm." He nods toward the water, where Luka's splashing around with Niko and Natalya. Even Yulia's out there, riding the waves like she was born in the ocean.

"I don't want sand all over my feet," I insist, crossing my arms over my chest like that's the final word.

Without a word, D steps forward, and before I can protest, he bends down and scoops me up like I weigh nothing. Just straight-up lifts me right out of my chair.

"D!" I shriek, my arms flailing, but he's already walking toward the water, Alex trailing behind him, laughing like this is the greatest thing he's ever seen.

"You said you didn't want sand on your feet," D says over his shoulder, not even breaking a sweat as he carries me to the ocean.

"Yeah, I didn't say I wanted to be carried like a damn princess!" I protest, but there's no real heat behind my words. His arms feel solid and safe, and I can't help but let out a half-hearted laugh.

"You'll thank me later," he replies, stepping into the shallow water. The cool waves lap at my legs, and I feel a shiver run up my spine. Damn him for being right.

"Put me down," I demand, even though part of me doesn't really mind being held. But of course, he ignores me, wading deeper until we're waist-deep in the water.

Finally, he sets me down, his hands lingering on my waist for a second longer than necessary, and I can't help but glance up at him. There's something in his eyes, something warm, and for a moment, I forget all about the fact that I'm now soaking wet.

Alex comes splashing toward us, grinning ear to ear, kicking up water like a little maniac. "Momma, come play!"

I glance down at him, then back up at D, who's still watching me with that half-smile.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, pushing the wet hair out of my face. "I guess I'm all in now."